For all the acclaim we accord (and rightly so) to American musicians who mine the rich loam of the south, the tales and traditions, the history, sound and even feel of the muddy Mississippi and the swamplands, it’s gratifying to hear a home grown musician burrowing into those self same tales with grit and determination along with a real sense of authenticity. And so it is that John Alexander’s latest album, Face The Wind, deserves to be considered alongside albums by the likes of Rodney Crowell, Ray Wylie Hubbard along with Robbie Robertson’s first solo outing.
Face The Wind is replete with an ominous darkness, danger lurking around every corner. Alexander’s voice is redolent of doomsayers, weighed with gravity for the most part as he prowls through the songs accompanied by some superb guitar picking, be it acoustic flurries or evil sounding electric slide. The album opens on a relatively mellow note with Bullets In The Rain, a gorgeous song which ripples with regret just as the guitars ripple and twist throughout. It’s a folk like song, somewhat akin to a mix of Townes Van Zandt and Lowell George with Alexander’s voice perfectly complemented by the vocal harmonies from Iona MacDonald (of Doghouse Roses). MacDonald appears again on the eerie frostbitten Living To Stay Alive and on the rough hewn country rock rumble of White Noise.
Throughout the album Alexander digs deep into dark Americana vibes. One can see why several of his songs have been grabbed up by several television series looking to add atmosphere and mood to their offerings. A perfect example is to heard on Don’t Start A War, an apocalyptic number with ominous percussion and flailing guitars. Even more ominous is the slow creep of Blood In The Water but amidst this doom and gloom Alexander, while not exactly lightening the mood, moves on from his Neil Young like sojourn in the ditch to provide several songs which are more supple. Face The Wind recalls the early days of John Martyn while Fault And Blame is a finger licking and finger picking dark country blues song. The album ends with the delightful This Side Of The Glass, an almost upbeat number despite its wonderfully wearied delivery. It’s a song which, probably for the first time, reminds one simultaneously of Kris Kristofferson, Gerry Rafferty and Ronnie Lane.