Missouri born Israel Nash continues to sound larger than life on his eighth album Ozarker, the title a nod to his family’s roots although he has long been domiciled in Texas. From folky beginnings Nash swelled into being a flag bearer for cosmic country music on albums such as Rain Plains and Silver Seasons, albums which shone with a psychedelic sheen.
On Ozarker Nash continues to roll back the years although here his template is the sweet sugar rush of prime time American rock’n’roll as delivered by the likes of Tom Petty and Bruce Springsteen. Gone are the almost Pink Floyd like guitar explorations (although he can still toss out explosive solos) of his more recent albums to be replaced by songs which, while not exactly pop fodder for the radio, trim any excess fat. In fact, if you could strip away the biker and storm trooper concerns of the early Blue Oyster Cult albums and concentrate on the sheer sonic joy of the songs then you might be able to imagine how Ozarker sounds.
The album opens with the swirling sounds of Can’t Stop, almost FM Fleetwood Mac in its infectiousness until Nash’s huge voice weighs in, no airy fairy Stevie Nicks here. It’s a punchy song with colossal chords and stinging guitars buzzing throughout. Roman Candle has a similar intro but Nash takes a left turn into Bob Seger land here with the song sounding as if Night Moves has been working out at the gym. The title song is next and it finds Nash in a sweet and sour mood as he parleys a story about his great-grandfather’s love tryst while delivering it in a cranked up to an eleven E Street Band vibe.
Behind the raw bravado of much of the songs here Nash actually is whittling down into the state of America these days. Lost In America, the lynchpin of the album is almost spectral as it opens before swelling into a blue collar anthem while Travel On has a degree of optimism contained within its muscular delivery. Going Back finds Nash ensconced in Texas and pondering (quite loudly) on his Missouri background and Shadowland closes the album with Nash returning to the Ozarks and again Bob Seger comes to mind as the song unrolls celebrating the importance of community.
Big, bold and brash, at times quite exhilarating, Ozarker is a powerful reminder of Israel Nash’s commanding presence.
Three years on from her excellent debut album (the wonderfully titled Jesus, Red Wine & Patsy Cline) Victoria Bailey trots back into view with an equally excellent follow-up which finds her standing tall in the saddle and embracing her inner cowgirl.
As on the first album Bailey clings fast to a traditional country sound replete with fiddle, mandolin and banjo and she remains a superlative singer. While Jesus, Red Wine & Patsy Cline had a honky tonk/ Bakersfield like sound to it, A Cowgirl Rides On is more akin to bluegrass with several of the songs having gospel like undertones. As such it’s a more immersive, and, dare one say it, a more emotional and personal listen than its predecessor. On occasion Bailey reaches into the pure Appalachian sounds of The Carter Family for inspiration and she delivers treasures such as the sublime Sweet By And By, a glorious song which resonates with the god fearing tradition and heavenly aspirations of early settlers. More upbeat but in a similar vein is the jaunty Down From The Mountain which is melodically similar to the old chestnut Give Me That Old Time Religion with both songs sounding simultaneously as fresh as a daisy and as old as the hills.
The album opens in a more contemporary vein with the title song which was inspired by Bailey’s reading of Distant Skies, a memoir penned in the ‘70s by Melissa Priblo Chapman which detailed her journey on horse across the US continent. The book resonated with Bailey who herself keeps a horse and she transforms it into a song about a spiritual voyage, a drifter, secure enough in the saddle who is buffeted and occasionally tempted (“Along came a cowboy from San Antone, he wanted to marry and build her a home) but instead she just moseys on along. It’s a tremendous song which deserves to be considered along with the likes of Gram Parson’s Grievous Angel in its portrait of a faded American dream. She tops this however with her own inner travelogue on End Of The Line, a five minute exploration of how best to battle on despite her travails.
Throughout the album, Bailey’s band (producer Brian Whelan, who also co-wrote some of the songs, on guitar, Ted Russell Kamp on bass, Philip Glenn on fiddle, mandolin, and banjo, Jeremy Long on pedal steel and Dobro and Leeann Skoda on background vocals) are on excellent form. They can whip it up as on the high spirited Snake Trails, a devil may care gallop of a song, or lay down a wearied cantina like patina on Sabina which is soaked with a liquor infused sense of revenge. There’s a slight return to the mode of the first album on Forever, You & I, a mid tempo tale which finds Bailey drinking alone and reminiscing about the man who walked out on her. Bailey closes the album with a fine rendition of Ricky Skaggs’ Waiting At The Gate, a return to the bluegrass gospel sound we mentioned earlier.
We reckoned Victoria Bailey was a name to watch back when Jesus, Red Wine & Patsy Cline came out and it’s gratifying to see that she hasn’t failed us. A Cowgirl Rides On is a tremendous step up and is destined to be one of our favourite albums of the year.
Rod Picott, currently touring the UK in advance of this album’s release, follows on from the superb Paper Hearts & Broken Arrows with the equally superb Starlight Tour. For anyone familiar with Picott there’s little here that is new or innovative and that’s not a bad thing. Indeed, the old idiom if it ain’t broke don’t fix it certainly applies here as Picott has steadily released a series of albums which have met much acclaim while he remains a huge favourite on the UK touring circuit.
Starlight Tour finds Picott once again in the company of producer Neilson Hubbard who also drums while Lex Price on bass and Juan Solorzano on guitars, keyboards and trumpet complete the band set up. They can whip up a fine rocking sound as on the driving diatribe against the opiate epidemic scourging the States which is Wasteland or delve into junkyard blues on the pulverising Digging Ditches but for the most part the band are more restrained, allowing Picott to play to his strengths – the raw emotional impact he carries when he strips his songs back to the bone. He goes straight for that emotional jugular on several songs here with Television Preacher a pitch perfect capture of a dirt poor family sending their money to a televangelist while the title song finds Picott at his best, finding poetry amidst misery and cruel fate.
A songwriter who has turned his hand to writing novels and short stories, Picott is a supreme chronicler of the loss of the American dream. Homecoming Queen (co-written with Amy Speace) tells the tale of a small town girl, once feted, now faded, while Pelican Bay finds an army veteran recalling the love of his life and their resultant daughter as he wanders lonesome on a beach, scratching his wife’s name in the sand and watching the ocean wash her away.
The band feature heavily on the opening song Next Man In Line, adding a fine muscular tension on this ode to Picott’s ailing father which contrasts his prime moments with his latter decline and ponders on his bloodline. At the other end of the album Time To Let Go Of Your Dreams finds Picott in an elegiac mood, not raging at the dying of the light, instead, proposing an acceptance of the inevitable, a good life followed by a good and peaceful death. It’s a wonderful song, tender and moving, a perfect close to a powerful and moving album.
It’s poignant that Rab Noakes’ last album release is a tribute to one half of The Everlys, the brother Don. Noakes made no secret of his love for The Everlys. They were the first concert he attended when he moved to Glasgow from his native Fife back in 1963 and when asked to pick a favourite vinyl disc to play and discuss when at Perth’s Southern Fried Festival a few years ago, he chose one of their albums to enthuse about.
Having long harboured an ambition to record some of Don Everly’s compositions, considering him to be severely underrated as a songwriter, Noakes found a fellow disciple in the shape of American Brooks Williams, a long time fan of Noakes. The pair met when Williams invited Noakes to play on his Glasgow recorded album Lucky Star and happened to mention his love of The Everlys, the spark which ignited this album. It took them a couple of years and a pandemic to eventually get together and do it but do it they did and it’s a glorious listen.
Taking their cues from a mimeographed Don Everly songbook which Noakes had picked up in Nashville back in the 1980s, the pair eschew the hits with most of the songs here originally released as b- sides or album cuts. With the focus primarily on Don’s songwriting there’s not much evidence of the brothers’ trademark sound, their celebrated sibling harmonies. Noakes and Williams do harmonise on several of the songs here but the impetus is on reinterpreting the songs, Noakes famously disliked the concept of just covering a song. It’s a measure of the album’s success that if you had no idea of its provenance, you’d be delighted to hear such a triumphant collection of songs.
With an A list of a backing band (Hilary Brooks (piano and accordion), Kevin McGuire (bass), Conor Smith (electric guitar and pedal steel) and Signy Jakobsdottir (drums)) Noakes and Williams turn in perfect deliveries ranging in style from country rock to rockabilly and all out teenage romance. They open with a bang on the keening pedal steel led It Only Costs A Dime, a sumptuous dip into classic country rock with Noakes sounding quite superb in his lonesome yearnings. Sigh, Cry, Almost Die follows with its slap double bass and walking rhythm harking back to heartbroken teen idols crying their hearts out back in the ‘50s. Should We Tell Him then delves into the early Everly sound as Noakes and Williams join in on the harmonies while the band update it a bit with slippery pedal steel interludes and some tremendous acoustic guitar playing. Williams takes over lead vocals on the sweet country lament of Hello Amy, another song which features the excellent pedal steel playing of Smith who excels throughout especially on the woozy waltz time of I’ll Never Get Over You.
An electrifying performance of Since You Broke My Heart finds Noakes and Williams vying to be considered as honorary members of The Travelling Wilburys on what is a tremendous thrash, a feat they repeat on I’m Not Angry with the band delivering a grand frat-rock rhythm. I Wonder If I Care As Much winds things down with a carousel like arrangement and with Noakes and Williams harmonising perfectly and the album closes on an appropriate note with the valedictory lament which is It’s Over, ironic really as it’s the last song we’ll hear from the much missed Rab Noakes.
It’s been a while since we heard from Glasgow’s Steve Grozier, an artist and songwriter who Blabber’n’Smoke, along with several other websites and publications have lauded for his reflective songs which, as he says are “about the darker aspects of life.” He returns to the fray with this four song EP, surprisingly, a collection of previously released songs but recorded in a stripped back fashion live in Glasgow’s La Chunky Studios with Johnny Smillie at the recording helm.
If you’ve seen Grozier live then you might know what to expect here. His guitar is almost caressed, tenderly picked and played, as his lonesome voice delivers the oh so lonesome lyrics. There are three songs gathered from his album All That’s Been Lost along with a revisit to his E.P. Take My Leave. Stripped of their previous robes (which included Neil Young & Crazy Horse like country grunge and sweet water pedal steel rock) these songs find Grozier in a much more confident solo stance than he was when we last encountered him on stage pre pandemic. He must have been practicing.
Power In The Light, according to Grozier his most popular song on Spotify, ditches the sweeping strings and muscular guitar solos from the album version and arrives here in, strangely enough, a more redemptive fashion. Whereas the original had an inherent sense of helplessness woven within it with Grozier’s voice like a cry from the wilderness across frozen wastes, here it’s much warmer, his voice less prophetic and more hopeful. Charlie’s Old Mustang/Graveyard, originally a dusty alt-country outing, here, stripped back to its basics, allows this poignant tale of a graveyard visit its full measure.
Twenty Third Street was the very attractive opening song on All That’s Been Lost, delivered in a sweet country rock style with lashings of pedal steel and twangy telecaster. Grozier totally dials it down here taking the song at a much slower place and giving it a fine wintry New York feel as if he’s following in the slushy boot heels of Dylan on the album cover of Freewheelin’ while the mention of losing his mind in the Chelsea hotel inevitable invokes memories of the late and much lamented L. Cohen. It’s the most successful makeover here and is beautifully delivered. The E.P. closes with Take My Leave, a song originally released back in 2016 in an already stripped back acoustic fashion. It might only be seven years in between but this new version does seem to portray a singer who is less strident and more comfortable in his own skin.
While a new set of songs from Grozier is much awaited, this slight return is much appreciated and, with a set of live dates lined up, hopefully will alert folk to a local artist who has much to offer.
Blabber’n’Smoke has long been a fan of Annie Keating’s passionate songs which sashay from blue collar rock to country soul with ease. Hard Frost was released a few months ago but with Keating embarking on an extensive UK tour this weekend it’s well time for us to lend an ear.
She opens the album with a twanged guitar introduction on Lies And Dynamite, a classic Keating number. It’s slow and moody with Keating’s voice sounding at times like Patti Smith on a song replete with vivid images of America which she imbues with a sinister touch. She maintains this tough, road tested soul survivor persona on Sunshine Parade which has sinewy guitar battling it out with synthesised strings on a smouldering song while Lovesick Blues is a gut bucket bluesy number with Keating wallowing in her post relationship mess. This is one of the songs from the album which Keating previewed on her most recent UK appearances and, live, she and her UK band ripped the song to shreds, rivalling The Blasters in their ferocity.
Aside from her street savvy songs, Keating has always revealed a more tender side on her albums and none more so than on Belly Of The Beast where she sounds quite vulnerable and almost childlike at times. Again she’s singing of lost love and its emotional hangover – “Heartbreak like a bullet” she sings – but after an almost Dylan like litany of metaphors she comes out as a survivor. A survivor, she reminds us on Wrong Guy’s Girl, who is also a travelling and romantic troubadour. Here, over a wonderfully bruised backing (think of the ragged Dylan songs on the Rolling Thunder tour), Keating delivers a sly travelogue which mentions places she has played which she has fallen in love with while also recounting amorous mishaps which occurred in some of them including the wonderful line “I’ve been chased out of Corfu for kissing the wrong guy’s girl.”
There’s much to admire here. Keepsakes And Heartbreaks is a delightfully frothy folky number which finds her, post divorce, pondering on what to do with her wedding ring while Feels Like Home has a sense of wintry comfort which echoes of Joni Mitchell in its bones. She closes the album with her rendition of The Police’s So Lonely, drastically altered to suit Keating’s style but this listener would have preferred to have heard another Keating song. It’s the only fly in this wonderful ointment.
1/9 – Ashcroft Arts Centre – Fareham, UK 2/9 – Little Rabbit Barn – Essex, UK 3/9 – Bob Harris “Picnic” House show & the Tap that night – Oxford, UK 5/9 – House Concert – Liverpool, UK (email info@anniekeating for info) 6/9 – The Atkinson – Southport, UK 7/9 – Glad Cafe – Glasgow, Scotland 8/9 – Biggar Corn Exchange – Biggar, Scotland 9/9 – Filey Americana – Filey, UK 10/9 – The Live Rooms – Saltaire, UK 12/9 – Kitchen Garden Café – Birmingham, UK 13/9 –What’s Cookin (Double bill w/Steady Habits) – London area, UK 14/9 – Chapel Arts Center (Sean duo opening) – Bath, UK 15/9 –September Songs Festival 16/9 – Eastwell Village Hall – Eastwell, UK 17/9 – The John Peel Centre –Stowmarket, UK
Gemini Girl is another handsome reissue package from High Moon Records which goes some way to rehabilitate, indeed revive, the late Laurie Styvers, a Texan who gravitated to London in the swinging sixties and who released two largely forgotten albums on the Chrysalis label in the early seventies. Although well reviewed at the time and awarded the accolade of “single of the week” by the then trendy Radio One with Beat The Reaper, the lead song of her first album, Styvers faded into obscurity, returning to the States and living what appears to have been a fairly satisfying life, untroubled by her failure to leave her mark in the music industry.
Very much in the Carole King/Dory Previn/Judee Sill/Laura Nyro camp of singer songwriters, Styvers was somewhat unique in that she recorded her two albums (Spilt Milk and The Colorado Kid) in England. An earlier brief spell in folk rock band Justine had brought her to the attention of Hush Productions, owned by Shel Talmy and Hugh Murphy and it was these tin pan alley guys who helmed both of the albums. To their credit they gave full rein to Styvers’ beguiling songs and hired some of the cream of UK session men to record the songs but the albums lacked the allure of the stellar names who popped up on any number of LA Canyon releases.
This collection consists of the two albums along with a generous helping of unreleased songs and alternate takes. It opens with Beat the Reaper, the first song on Spilt Milk which does invoke the carefree and innocent ways of her Laurel Canyon contemporaries before Styvers launches into the emotional depths of Imagine That The Lights Have Gone Out, a song slightly drowned by its sweeping strings and horns but packing a powerful punch. Styvers belies her youth (she was only 20 when she recorded this) with a set of songs which are emotionally intelligent, mature and socially aware. The title song, Gemini Girl, is an acute dissection of her own fairly priveledged status while the glorious Five Leaves Left (not related to Nick Drake) finds her juggling hippy days out on Hampstead Heath with the daily routine of getting the shopping in. She returns to this on Eat Your Cornflakes, a sweet pedal steel flavoured song which comes across as her version of the secret diary of a frustrated housewife.
In between recording these albums Styvers returned to America and spent time playing with a bunch of Colorado musicians in a loose limbed combo called Little Brown’s Electric Band. She also heard Carole King’s Tapestry and both were to inform the making of The Colorado Kid. That album opens with You Are My Inspiration, inspired surely by King’s album although there is more than a smidgeon of Laura Nyro to be heard also. Tapestry also looms large on the plaintive piano ballad Take Me In Your Arms Again and the yearning Take Good Care. Nyro comes to mind again on the very impressive There’s Still Time (Follow Your Heart) where Styvers is accompanied on vocals by the perfect trio of Dyan Birch, Frank Collins and Paddy McHugh (a trio who sang with Arrival and soon went on to form Kokomo). It’s topped however by the dramatic delivery of You Be The Tide, I’ll Be The Bay, a song which predates Kate Bush by several years. It’s simply gorgeous.
Beautifully packaged and with an extensive and informative booklet, Gemini Girl casts a spotlight on an artist who deserves to be much better known. Fans of Judee Sill, Laura Nyro and Carol King will surely love this.
While Blabber’n’Smoke didn’t make it to this year’s Static Roots Festival, organised by our good friend Dietmar Liebecke, another good friend, Ken Beveridge did attend and he has graciously allowed us to post his thoughts on the weekend here…
The temperature is high as I walk the last few yards of my stroll from my hotel to the building that is hosting Static Roots 2023. It was only going to get hotter and hotter as the two days of the festival grew from hot, to sweltering to finally off the thermometer, as act after brilliant act raised not only the musical bar but the soaring heat of brilliance. Greetings are exchanged with organiser Dietmar Liebecke and MC Jeff Robson plus sundry friends from Glasgow, Kilkenny, Morecambe, Germany, Spain and more.
The first act to grace the stage were One Eleven Heavy, a band of mixed nationalities but with a sound that comes straight from the heart of Americana. A blistering set of psychedelic tinged rock numbers with hints of Little Feat, Santana, Steely Dan and The Grateful Dead. A marvellous opening act featuring great, tuneful songs and outstanding solos from all members of the band and a great start to the weekend.
Next to greet the audience is the waif-like Evangeline Gentle. A Canadian singer (via Peterhead). Evangeline played this festival last year accompanied by a band. This time she appears solo, which, for me suited her songs far better. She sings with an openness and honesty that catches you by the gut and transports you into her own emotional landscape. Fantastic songs from a fantastic singer.
This year’s act playing in the esteemed ‘Willie Meighan’ spot is Rowan, a three piece Irish-based (obviously) band, who, to me, were more ‘indie’ than Americana but, hey, none the worse for that. Both rocky and jingly-jangly they inhabited the stage as well as any of their coveted-spot predecessors such as the Midnight Union Band or The Barflies.
And so the stage is set for the evening’s final. Appearing for their third Static Roots in a row is the mighty and wonderful Cordovas. I heard someone mention a new-to-me ‘genre’ last week – Alternative Country Rock – a title that so aptly describes this band. From start to finish they play hi-energy, guitar-driven songs that have the crowd on their feet throughout. The two main men, Joe Firstman and Lucca Soria sound like they could have played for The Allman Brothers. A great finale to a wonderful day.
The next day begins with a super Dutch trio of female singers performing exquisite acapella harmonies. Woolf began their set a trifle nervously, but once they hit their stride, they had the whole audience in raptures. A fine, gentle start to the day.
Time to notch the gears up, if only slightly. The next act on stage were the husband and wife team of Mikaela and Jordan Burchill playing under the band name Beth / / James. Yet another tremendous duo playing exactly the sort of songs you would expect from a pair of singers from Austin, Texas. Their set is peppered with country-tinged ballads and rockers alike. Their obvious love of each other is evident in every song they perform. None more so than their final effort – a very special rendering of The Beatles’ Don’t Let Me Dow‘. A perfect end to a really super set.
Singer song-writer Dylan Earl is next up. Dylan hails from Arkansas, USA, and his country-tinged set reflect his strong passion for his homelands. Fresh from well received sets at Black Deer and Maverick festivals he is in superb story telling form.
This festival is one that just keeps giving and giving. With nary a moment to have a break for a bite to eat, a beer or a blether, the crowd are back in place to listen to the next performers, the upbeat and irrepressible The Hello Darlins. This Canadian band cover the whole gamut of whatever we know as Americana: a bit of blues here, a bit of old-time country there, some 1972 Laurel Canyon inspired songs over there. They play with great zest and enjoyment and have in Candace Lacina, a whole-hearted, stir-them-up dynamo of a front woman, who is amongst the best I have encountered. A very special set, in particular their blistering rendition of Neil Young’s Helpless.
So where to next? We have been to Ireland; we have been to Canada; we have looked in on America; enjoyed a trip into The Netherlands; how about some Norwegian. Please welcome Malin Pettersen.
Malin has broadened her range since I last saw her in Hackney two or three years ago. Both her peaceful easy voice and her songwriting have grown much stronger and more diverse. No longer constrained by genre she treats the audience to a pot-pourri of love ballads, R&B influenced rockers and the set is topped off by the marvellous Cry If I Want To.
An accident with a beer glass, the requirement to take in some solids and having seen them quite a few times before meant I missed the next act, Ferris & Sylvester. However, by all accounts they were excellent.
And so we reach the last act of this already fabulous festival. The mighty John Blek & The Rats. No strangers to The Static Roots audience, John and his band perform a tour-de-force of a set. With rocking blues, gospel-tinged sing-alongs and thought-provoking ballads; Blek has the audience in the palm of his hands. The resurrected Rats maintain a high-intensity back drop to a superb show-stopping performance. The highlight of the Festival; a festival where the bar was already set at an exceptionally high level.
For your writer, Static Roots forms part of a trilogy of events, including The Rambling Roots festival in High Wycombe and The Kilkenny Rhythm and Roots Festival. At all three the standard just keeps improving and improving. This year’s Static Roots line up was just incredible given the number of ‘unknown’ to me acts. It can only go onwards and upwards. I suggest that you book your tickets for 2024 now.
Thanks to Ken Beveridge for the words and thanks also to Pit Schultz for allowing us to share his pictures. And here’s a pic of Ken selling his book to Blabber’n’Smoke a few years back.
40 years on from their formation, Glasgow’s The Primevals remain committed to their original sins – a love of garage rock and the scuzzy underbelly of psychedelia along with hints of free jazz and kraut rock- on their latest release The Dividing Line. It’s the seventh album they’ve released since their relaunch in 2011 and, as with its predecessors, it shows that the band are more than happy to grow old disgracefully with no gentle slipping into the night for them.
The album opens with a throbbing bass line and electric piano on The Drop, immediately reminding one of The Doors although Morrison and his chums never sounded as ferocious as this. They return to The Doors influence on Suckin’ On Nothing Street although here it’s the more poetic side of Morrison which is envisaged. Being The Primevals they can’t resist taking the song into a nihilistic underground and while singer Michael Rooney turns in his finest Morrison croon on the quieter moments (and just about admits to stealing the melody) a gargantuan riff dominates the song.
There’s a Beefheartian soul surely within the pumping pomp of Sonic Highway with Rooney wailing away about a beast on the loose as the band play like a Martian blues band high on whatever Martians get high on. Drifting Away is more straightforward as it’s propelled by the barrelling rhythm section with the guitars set to stun and Hang Loose hits you in a similar manner with the band whipping up a mighty storm fuelled by a stone cold solid organ groove and more guitars than you could shake a stick at. Grit & Grime opens this groove up somewhat with thrashed acoustic guitars and a massed vocal chorus popping up amidst the musical mayhem while Rest In Power, an obituary for a departed comrade, allows guitarists Tom Rafferty and Martyn Rodger to indulge in a brief moment of Eastern mysticism. As for the oblique title of WTFHTU, a truly demented rocker, listen closely to the freaky coda at the end for all to be revealed.
High Street is a rare moment of biography from Rooney as he recalls his Glasgow upbringing, close to a prison which was the scene of an infamous shoot out (years before he was around mind you). If you want to really want know who influenced him then listen to the litany of sixties icons he references here. Most striking is the apocalyptic creep of The Will Of The People, a close companion to the claustrophobic songs of Second Nature, the band’s pandemic album. Here they prowl and snarl with poisonous guitars snaking around the gritty urban background. The album closes with some Farfisa pumped garage rock on Walking At Night with all cylinders on fire. Here they approach the feral ferocity of The Gun Club on a grand close to what is another mighty album from The Primevals.
An actual rodeo riding cowboy, Zach Aaron thrilled us back in 2020 with his album Fill Dirt Wanted to the extent that it was one of our favourite albums of that year. While that album mixed his Texas roots with some Oklahoma dirt (with a Woody Guthrie influence well to the fore) along with a fine dash of dark humour, his new album, This Lovely War, cleaves more to the folky singer songwriter tradition of Guy Clark and John Prine while Terry Allen hides in the wings. It’s a more full bodied disc with Fill Dirt Wanted’s spare instrumentation replaced by full band set ups laying the bed rock for Aaron’s sardonic songs.
The album opens on a grand note with Aaron and stumblebum accompaniment – plucked banjo and squirreling guitars – regretting the march of progress which has cast aside western traditions on May The Iron Horse Get Fed. Nostalgic and suffused with regret, the song captures some of that longing for simpler times which fed much of Bogdanovich’s Last Picture Show. Whether the protagonist of the next song, Fall Down Drunk, is a victim of this is perhaps moot but he’s certainly down in his cups as Aaron delivers a magnificent portrait of a drunk who see-saws between despair and hope, gulping down last orders while reckoning that Jesus could save him if “he could only get him on the phone.” It’s a classic George Jones like beer stained confessional and Aaron delivers it perfectly, reminding one of Sturgill Simpson’s reclamation of classic country mores. Closely allied is the tremulous It’s You, a more redemptive song which finds Aaron rising from the gutter having found a soul mate who will take him forward from his Kristofferson like Sunday morning comedowns. It’s followed by the sweet keening sounds of Songbird which suggests that the lovers can rise above their problems with Aaron giving the song a touch of classic Willie Nelson circa Red Headed Stranger vibe.
Elsewhere, Aaron digs into history on the dark waltz of Someone’s Got To Bleed, the dainty two step instrumentation something of a danse macabre on this bloody tale. Lightening the mood there’s Aaron’s version of Marty Robbins’ Cowboy In A Continental Suit, a fine western morality tale based on a rodeo and Aaron closes the album with another rodeo tale. Latigo Joe is a talking blues about a cowboy convict offered a chance to ride a wild horse which ends in his swift demise. It’s a throwback to the type of song which typified the excellence of Fill Dirt Wanted and it’s the topping here on another excellent album from Zach Aaron.
