Dave Alvin has always split the difference between blues journeyman and folk troubadour (with a dash of Bakersfield country), and the result has been a body of work that showcases his considerable songwriting talents while celebrating the rich tapestry of American music that has influenced Alvin. Over the past decade, his output has been steady, but much of it has been in the form of live releases, cover collections and tributes. As a producer and guitarist, he has lent his talents to several singer-songwriters (Amy Farris, Christy McWilson, Katy Moffat) and paid tribute to a number of key influences (Merle Haggard, Mississippi John Hurt). This work continues with the Alvin-produced tribute to his late friend and bandmate Chris Gaffney, Man Of Somebody's Dreams, which will be released May 26 on Yep Roc.
That same day will mark the release of Alvin's first record since 2006's West Of The West. In the wake of Gaffney's death, Alvin opted to record not with his usual Guilty Men but instead collected a jaw-dropping list of female talent to back him. The result is Dave Alvin & The Guilty Women, possibly his most collaborative effort since he joined with John Doe and Exene Cervenka in The Knitters. Not by any means a solo effort, DA&TGW is charged with a fresh energy that's been absent from most of his solo work. Though it doesn't quite return Alvin to the songwriting heights of King Of California and Blackjack David, it's great to hear him sharing so much of the spotlight with his newfound bandmates. Cindy Cashdollar, steel and dobro player-extraordinaire, particularly shines here, as does co-vocalist Christy McWilson. Amy Farris lends her violin and viola skills, as well as occasional vocals. Overall, this album leans much more heavily on Alvin's folkier side (unlike the more muscular blues workouts of Ashgrove), but it's still a lively and engergetic set, punctuated by a positively un-Doris-Day version of "Que Sera, Sera (What Will Be)".
If Dave Alvin hasn't quite delivered an album on par with his masterpieces (both King Of California and Blackjack David, imho), he's probably delivered his best record since they were released over a decade ago. Though it lacks the heft of his best work, Dave Alvin & The Guilty Women finds one of my favorite troubadours in great form, with a group of backing musicians who are each formidable in her own right, but as whole - and with Alvin - are something quite special.
(Dave Alvin & The Guilty Women will be released on Yep Roc next Tuesday, May 26. If you pre-order the album with the Chris Gaffney tribute, you'll save a few bucks as well as be entered to win one of 20 signed prints of the Guilty Women album cover.)
(You can read all about each of the talented Guilty Women here. You can listen to the entire album below...)
UPDATE: You can read about Alvin's Chris Gaffney tribute at this year's SxSW here, courtesy of the Houston Press' Chris Gray.
I can often gauge how much I like a record by how many times an attempted review suffers a false start. In the case of Tim Easton's new album Porcupine, I've discarded no fewer than three attempts, while the disc itself has continued to have heavy rotation around the house.
So let me keep it simple, in the spirit of producing something at all. I've enjoyed Tim Easton's work for years, but Porcupine is the best front-to-back listen in the bunch (which includes four previous releases). Much will be made of the fact that this is his rockin' album, but it's easy to draw a line from his previous albums to this one. He's still a singer-songwriter rooted deeply in acoustic blues but with a knack for catchy melodies. This set is s definite shift away from his earlier polished studio gems (The Truth About Us, Break Your Mother's Heart), relying instead on spontaneous bursts of energy, thanks in large part to his fellow musicians including guitarist extraordinaire Kenny Vaughn.
The title of the record obviously invokes the term "prickly," and the record bristles with a jittery energy that only ebbs for the ballads, which are lovely and graceful, especially the string-laden album closer "Goodbye Amsterdam."
I never really gave Easton's last album Ammunition a fair shake, as it was so much quieter and reflective than his previous album. But as companion pieces, Porcupine and Ammunition work quite well together. On the surface, it's easy to dismiss Easton as just another singer-songwriter. But I'd argue that he's a much rarer talent than he's given credit for, and Porcupine ought to bring him to the attention of a lot more listeners. It's certainly one of my favorites - if not most favorite - of 2009.
(BTW, Porcupine is available in limited vinyl, with hand-painted album covers by Easton. They are pricey, but I have to say, very cool. And yeah, I bought one from the Yard Dog in Austin.)
If, like me, you think country-punk pioneer John Doe is the fuckin' Man, then you're already excited about his new collaboration with space cowboys The Sadies (due Tuesday). If you don't, then what is wrong with you?
Granted, John Doe's solo career has been hit or miss at times, but as a whole, his post-X body of work has more than lived up to the standards set by his former band. He continues to mine a rich vein of American musical influences and graft them together effortlessly. In the post-alt-country universe, that may not seem revolutionary, but few pull off the punk/country intersection as convincingly as Doe.
The song choices on Country Club (mostly covers) are audacious, to say the least. Wiser men would steer clear of classics like "Stop The World and Let Me Off", "The Night Life" and "Help Me Make It Through The Night." But I'll be damned if Doe and The Sadies don't find new ways to work over these standards, without really screwing around with the arrangements. There are a surprising number of country weepers, considering that Doe is backed by one of the shit-hottest bands on the planet. But after a few listens, even the slower numbers allow The Sadies to shine through in unique ways (check out the so-reverbed-it's-almost-psychedelic guitar work on "The Night Life"). However, if you're looking for some of that hot shit, skip straight ahead to the reactionary Haggard classic "Are The Good Times Really Over For Good" (featuring Kathleen Edwards on vocals).
Let's face it: I'm a sucker for any record that includes "Help Me Make It Through The Night." If you can't already tell, I'm pretty much a sucker for anything that involves John Doe or The Sadies. So you might say this is a bit of a dream collaboration from my vantage point. Maybe in the future, they'll write some original material together, but this'll do for now.
You probably won't find a straight-up, ballsier album opener this year than "Do It For Free," the leadoff track from the new album from Sarah Borges & The Broken Singles. Subtle it ain't - the "do it" in the title is the do it you're thinking of. And you won't read any description of it that doesn't invoke Joan Jett (rightfully). If it sounds like the song is intended to convey plenty of 'tude, I suspect that was by design. It's groovy and rockin' in a mindless sorta way, and I guess much of The Stars Are Out embraces that approach.
Not in a bad way, mind you. But any record that pairs five originals with five covers has something on its agenda. Stars hits the ground running and gets things done pretty efficiently. It covers several stylistic bases, but it coats them all in a slick, polished sheen that should remind some listeners of Sheryl Crow before she pretty much sucked. Her previous two albums had gotten Borges pigeonholed into the roots-rock camp, but this record puts away any pretense at countrification entirely (read: the pedal steel is gone). Truth is, I'm not sure this sound doesn't suit Borges and the Singles just a bit better. Still, there's plenty here that will please fans of SBBS's previous albums, thanks in large part to her Broken Singles compatriots.
The results are occasionally a little uneven. A cover of Smokey Robinson's "Being With You" starts flat but gets better as it goes. However, the unnecessary cover of NRBQ's "It Comes To Me Naturally" is a bar-band-by-the-numbers track from the get-go (some people believe NRBQ should've been the next Beatles, but they're wrong). Much, much better are the lesser-known covers ("Yesterday's Love" and "No One Will Ever Love You") and especially the original tunes, which don't get enough attention on this album. If there's a dominant flaw exposed in The Stars Are Out, it is undoubtedly the decision to shortchange Borges' original material. It is solid throughout, and a couple of B-sides (available on Amazon) indicate that there should've been a few more of Borges' cuts mixed into the final tracklist.
There's a quaint record-industry-heyday vibe to The Stars Are Out. Whether it's the beefy '90's-style production or the cheesy '80's-style publicity photos (or a bass player named Binky), the record sounds determined to distinguish itself from the glut of sensitive female singer-songwriters. It's certainly a success on those terms and, to my ear, in several other areas as well. It has a few problems, but mostly it's gonna sound pretty rockin' blasting out of the speakers with the top down. And that's not a bad thing at all when the first week of Spring is staring us in the face.
(The Stars Are Out is out now on Sugar Hill Records. More info over at the band's official website. SBBS also appear on the new Doug Sahm tribute album, but their cut is only available on the Amazon exclusive version CD or download.)
It's tough for me to review Buddy & Julie Miller's new album Written In Chalk outside of the context of their larger body of work, which includes five Buddy solo albums, two Julie solo records (not including her previous Contemporary Christian albums), and a self-titled duo album. Though Written In Chalk is only their second co-billed album, everything with the Miller name on it since Julie's last CCM album Orphans & Angels has more or less been a joint effort, with Julie providing much of the songwriting muscle and Buddy handling the production and guitar duties. Every single one of these albums have been recorded in the living room setting of their home studio, with a stable of hyper-talented musicians who have become a tightly-knit extension of the Miller family.
The beginning for me can be traced to Buddy's second Hightone album Poison Love, which was released while Emmylou Harris'Wrecking Ball held me thoroughly in its grip. Buddy would go on to play guitar in Emmylou's band Spyboy for the better part of decade, the same span of time that produced the bulk of Buddy and Julie's recent output, particularly their albums for the Hightone label which came in rapid succession. Poison Love quickly led me back to Buddy's Your Love & Other Lies and Julie's Blue Pony, and from that point forward, I've been a very big fan of the couple's work (in case you hadn't noticed).
The couple's harmonies are as natural and instinctive as those of Gram Parsons and Emmylou, a comparison that has been made many times over. Buddy's instinct for classic country and Southern soul music somehow combines with Julie's witchy-woman persona to create something entirely their own. In many ways, Buddy's no-frills sensibilities run counter to Julie's naturalistic imagery, but they always manage to meet each other halfway. They sing Appalachian ballads with as much conviction as they do a Pops Staples tune. One generally assumes that making records requires a certain amount of ego, but if the Millers have any, it's difficult to detect. There is guilelessness to their records that belies the sheer amount of talent on display.
A switch to New West Records coincided with personal and physical difficulties in Julie's life, and Written In Chalk is only the second Miller album for the label, following Buddy's 2004 release Universal United House Of Prayer. Since about that time, Julie has quietly disappeared from public view, a development not likely to change anytime soon (she is notably absent from the promotional materials for Written In Chalk). But just seeing her name on the cover of this album is a welcome surprise, and hearing her in such fine form is heartening, to say the least.
The first voice you hear on Written In Chalk is that of longtime drummer Brady Blade, a laugh followed quickly by the counting off of beats. Larry Campbell's fiddle answers the call before Buddy's acoustic guitar introduces the song proper. "Ellis County" is among the finest duets Buddy and Julie have recorded, and the song transcends its obvious nod to nostalgia (Julie's family is from Ellis County, TX) by focusing on the simplicity of life without material comforts, a sentiment with particular relevance. As always, Julie's songwriting is deceptive in its directness, but she knows just when to throw in a curveball chord change or two for an emotional punch. Pulling punches is not something one associates with the songs of Julie Miller (she writes nearly every original song on the record), which can be almost disconcerting in their nakedness.
"Gasoline and Matches" is a sly nod to combustible romance and will lead many to believe there is more to the Millers' marriage than simplistic, doting affection. Similarly, the first of Julie's ballads "Don't Say Goodbye" will leave some listeners wondering about the stability of their relationship (though it's worth noting this is familiar territory for the Millers). Still, few write or sing about heartbreak as convincingly as Julie Miller. It's part of her unique gift that she seems so quirky and upbeat in public but has such a open connection to the darkness of the soul. Witness the disc's centerpiece "Chalk", which is brought home by Buddy with a wrenching harmony by Patty Griffin.
Interestingly, despite its co-billing, Written In Chalk often sounds like a solo record from either Buddy or Julie. Buddy shares vocals with guests on the album's three covers, not the least of which is a gritty version of Mel Tillis' "What You Gonna Do Leroy" with none other than Robert Plant (Miller was the guitarist for Plant and Alison Krauss on their recent tour). Regina McCrary, a key player on Buddy's last album Universal United House Of Prayer, stops by on two tracks. And Emmylou Harris closes the album in grand fashion on Leon Payne's devastating "The Selfishness Of Man," a sterling example of Buddy's ability to pluck obscure gems for his records. Julie grabs the spotlight for a handful of tracks, and her vocals achieve new heights with the smoky, almost jazzy "A Long, Long Time."
But of course, it's the duets that seal the deal. "Smooth" (aka "Memphis Jane") is a slithering snake of a song, that shows off the couple's multiple talents (especially Buddy's razor sharp guitar leads). And "June" is a tribute of sorts to Johnny and June Carter Cash, appropriate since many fans see parallels in the Millers. Though the album was reportedly - and obviously - pulled together from multiple sessions, it hangs together remarkably well, serving as a rather concise overview of the Millers' body of work. It lacks the thematic cohesion of, say, Universal United House Of Prayer, but in its place is a loose charm that sounds carefully crafted without feeling overworked. In short, Written In Chalk ranks among the best of Buddy and Julie's work, and that is high praise, indeed.
It's worth mentioning that a small cloud hangs over the release of this album, as Buddy Miller was forced to undergo emergency triple-bypass surgery less than two weeks ago. There is no more tireless presence in the world of Americana, and hopefully his recovery will mirror that of one of his heroes, Bob Dylan. But even if Buddy Miller never recorded or produced another record, his contribution to the world of music - my world of music, especially - would be enshrined forever. But I have a feeling that Written In Chalk is just the latest, not the last, entry in a body of work unmatched by just about anyone else.
(Written In Chalk will be released March 3 on New West Records.)
UPDATE: I got my official copy today, and I gotta say it one of the nicest packages I've seen in a while. The track-by-track descriptions by (former No Depression editor) Grant Alden are the most lovingly crafted liner notes I've read in ages. Major kudos to New West for the extra effort.
The day I heard the Heartless Bastards' new album The Mountain, I also (legally) downloaded the band's first two albums Stairs and Elevators and All This Time. That's a pretty heavy endorsement in my book, but with all of the albums placed on such equal footing, it's been tough to nail down my favorite Heartless Bastards album. On the one hand, Stairs and Elevators is a raw and pounding assault, and the only of their albums to really merit the endless Black Keys comparisons (both bands also hail from Ohio). On the other hand, All This Time shows vastly more texture and nuance than its predecessor, sometimes at the expense of all that raw power. Both albums are impressive on their own merits, but taken together, they don't paint a clear picture of exactly who the Heartless Bastards are.
With their third release The Mountain, that picture should come into sharper focus. First, let there be no doubt that the band is the vision of frontwoman Ericka Wennerstrom. Following the dissolution of the original trio, Wennerstrom relocated to Austin, where she ultimately reunited with Dave Colvin and Jesse Ebaugh, who actually played on the original Bastards demo. But in the meantime, Wennerstrom hooked up with producer Mike McCarthy and let him tap some local talent to form the musical core of The Mountain. The result both reasserts the Bastards' muscular appeal and stretches the band further than ever before. The deliberate (and rather brilliant) sequencing, which highlights a largely acoustic middle section, will frustrate some fans. But repeated listens reveal a tricky dynamic that steers the album up a dusty trail of folk and blues before crashing back to sea level with a fiery thud (the album-closing one-two punch of "Witchy Poo" and "Sway").
It's perhaps this daring path that sets The Mountain apart from the band's two previous efforts, but it's also notable how clearly an assertive force Wennerstrom has become. At a crucial juncture in the band's development, Wennerstrom has impressively delivered a record that fulfills the promise of the Bastards' first two albums, as well as hints at potential yet to be fulfilled.
The Mountain is out TODAY on Fat Possum Records (download the title track here). They'll pay a visit to Letterman on Feb. 10. And if you're a fellow Houstonian, you'll be able to catch them twice in the coming months, on Feb. 14 at the Last Concert Cafe and opening for Andrew Bird on Mar. 21 at the House Of Blues. More tour dates here.
Also, check out this performance from last year's ACL Festival...
UPDATE: The Ramblings will be having a little Heartless Bastards contest next week. Check back Monday for details (especially you Houston readers).
UPDATE II: Lots 'o love from the critics for The Mountain:
It's very nearly the second anniversary of the release of Like Love, Lust and The Open Halls Of The Soul, the third record from Jesse Sykes & The Sweet Hereafter. As I sit here and listen to it yet again, it's worth noting that I stand very much by my original opinion of the album, and then some. It has steadily grown into one of my favorite records of the past few years.
In related news, you can download four tracks from the band's recent Daytrotter session here. While Sykes & Co. work on their next album, you can also pick up the recent Gentleness Of Nothing EP on the band's website (the download version is hi-quality 320kbps files, btw).
UPDATE: In honor of Dan's comment, here's a poster from the show he noted. How cool is this poster art?
Well, we're a few weeks in, and there have already been some notable 2009 releases. Here's a ranked list of my recent listening:
Buddy & Julie Miller - Written In Chalk Plenty more coverage to come as the March 3 release date approaches, but what is there to say really? Classic Buddy & Julie through and through. Perhaps not their best album, but probably toward the top of the list. Which is to say, it is awesome.
Heartless Bastards - The Mountain Possibly not as strong as its predecessors - which I only recently picked up - but still my favorite so far of the year (due Feb. 3).
Andrew Bird - Noble Beast This one has quickly grown on me. At first, I was put off by Bird's style, but I'm on board now.
Derek Trucks Band - Already Free Doesn't quite leave behind the jam-band, blues-rock label in the dust, but emphasizes song as much as performance in most cases. Some really strong tracks standout among some generic sounding material, but it's a great effort nonetheless.
AC Newman - Get Guilty Most everything you love about the New Pornographers (less Neko), and none of what you don't (Dan Bejar).
Animal Collective - Merriweather Post Pavillion I... just... don't... get... it. I guess I'm uncool or something, but I don't see anyone listening to this album in a year. It sounds like a mashup of Beach Boys and Flaming Lips to me, but recorded underwater. Need more time to digest it, I suppose.
As for that new Springsteen album due next week... uh oh. And, oh crap.
A sticker on the cover of Susan Tedeschi's new album Back To The River says, "Susan Tedeschi returns to her signature sound." That's certainly true to some degree, but this definitely isn't the same old Susan Tedeschi. Back To The River showcases her astonishing talents - singer, guitarist, songwriter - like nothing she's released before. In short, Tedeschi has raised her game across the board and released easily one of the best albums this year.
When Tedeschi recruited Joe Henry to produce her last album Hope & Desire, it hinted that she was interested in subtly shifting away from the "blues" tag that had always been pinned on her work. Henry and Tedeschi put the emphasis squarely on her singing, leaving all of the guitar duties to Tedeschi's husband Derek Trucks and Doyle Bramhall II. The result was her most impressive vocal performance to date, but the move no doubt alienated longtime fans who probably admired her guitar playing at least as much as her singing. And even though Tedeschi had not yet consistently proven her songwriting chops, the all-covers format (every selection a great pick) probably didn't curry any favor with fans either. Still, Henry is an exceptional producer, and Hope & Desire was a great-sounding album with several career highlights.
But it would seem that Tedeschi has eased herself back toward her comfort zone with Back To The River. What she added this time was co-writing credit on nearly all of the songs, traveling across the country to work with writers like Gary Louris, Tony Joe White, John Leventhal and Sonya Kitchell. Furthermore, she nabbed producer George Drakoulias whose sweet spot is just the kind of rock-soul-gospel-blues throwdown for which she was obviously aiming. As a result, Back To The River rocks harder than anything Tedeschi has ever recorded, yet sacrifices none of the melodic strength of the songs. It's this razor-sharp focus on the songs that sets the album apart from nearly anyone else broadly working in a blues or blues-rock format. Think Bonnie Raitt fronting the Black Crowes or Gov't Mule and you might get some idea.
Tedeschi is probably known as a singer first, guitarist second and songwriter third, but these distinctions become significantly more hazy on Back To The River. For the first time, she comes across as a genuine triple-threat. Though her guitar playing sounds more vital than ever, Trucks and Bramhall return, as well as guitarist Dave Yoke - there's an absolute feast here for guitar geeks. And Tedeschi's singing is simply one of the great female voices out there today. But, of course, what makes the record truly special is the quality of the material, which surpasses by a substantial margin even the carefully picked songs on Hope & Desire. The lone cover song here - a face-melting rendition of Allen Toussaint's "There's A Break In The Road" - fits perfectly with the rest of the tunes, which vary the tempo and mood enough to give the listener a full picture of just how talented Susan Tedeschi truly is.
I first stumbled onto Tedeschi when I was digging around for some Rock N Soul mamas in the vein of Tift Merritt's Tambourine (I also sniffed out Grace Potter around this time). It's no small surprise that Back To The River has a lot in common with Tambourine, which was also produced by Drakoulias. But whereas Merritt's roots originate in the country music realm, Tedeschi still obviously starts with the blues as her primary reference. Modern blues, particularly the white-blues-rock variety, gets stale pretty quickly these days. But Susan Tedeschi has served notice with Back To The River than those roots can still blossom into something quite extraordinary.
A few links...
Great piece about Susan and the new album over at Blues Blogger.
I screwed up. I hopped back on the Ryan Adams bandwagon a coupla weeks ago and read some of the early reviews of Cardinology. And I got my hopes up - too up, in fact. I was hoping for the career album that has eluded Adams (at least since Heartbreaker), but Cardinology isn't quite it. Rather, it's a worthy addition to his work with the Cardinals, containing some substantial highlights and fleshed out with some appealing-but-not-quite-great tunes.
If there is a surprising aspect of Cardinology, it is the subtle shift in sound toward Adams' Rock N Roll and Love Is Hell albums. Anthemic songs like "Fix It" and "Cobwebs" are among the slickest, catchiest things in the entire Adams catalog, though they don't entirely abandon the country-rock template established by the Cardinals. But other than that subtle shift, there aren't abundant surprises on Cardinology. For all of his substantial talents, Adams exhibits no signs whatsoever of being an edgy or surprising artist (other than his occasionally erratic behavior). This is perfectly pleasant stuff, easy on the ears without degenerating into pure saccharine. Absolutely nothing wrong with that, but let's at least call it what it is (and wonder why the indie-snoots at Pitchfork continue to be mildly obsessed with Adams - note their dig at Paste magazine, which seems to agree with them on Cardinology).
Having heard some of these tracks live (and seeing Adams on Letterman Wednesday night), it seems to me there's an increasing disparity between the Cardinals' live show and their recorded output. Songs that catch fire in concert tend to simmer on the ablum. This is the case with many great live acts - and the Cardinals are among the finest touring today - but there's no doubt that Adams takes the album format seriously. It's also obvious that he's acquired a razor-sharp focus on quality studio work, but it may be that seriousness that keeps Cardinology from truly taking flight. Adams and the Cardinals have a knack for churning out lovely records, but no one outside of Adams' fanbase is going to mistake them for masterpieces.
Still, Cardinology is a worthy addition to the Cardinals' discography, easily the most consistenly enjoyable phase of Adams' capricious and prolific career. It certainly makes the case that Adams is probably capable of unearthing a masterpiece in the future, and the Cardinals are most certainly the bandmates to help him dig it out.
