Blabber’n’Smoke’s Top Ten for 2013

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I succumbed to the idea of a top ten for the first time last year and if nothing else it’s been useful looking back at it over the past few days and comparing it to the list below. Was it a good year for music? I don’t know. Has there ever been a bad year? All I can say is that I’ve enjoyed listening to music this year as much as the last one and the year before that and so on. Many of last year’s list still get regular plays here so at least I liked them and the number one, John Murry’s Graceless Age has had a second wind with its eventual release Stateside. It may seem odd to have an artist with two entries in the list but both albums by Michael Rank & Stag are simply superb examples of what Blabber’n’Smoke would define as Americana; rooted in the country with a frontier outlook and a fierce regard for the common folk. And a happy coincidence to have two works from Howe Gelb mentioned also as he continues to plow his singular field. Both albums have striking images of Gelb threatening to turn him into an Americana icon, part Mt. Rushmore, part Dorothea Lange, for Blabber’n’Smoke, he’s a hero. Anyway, here’s what rocked our boat over the past twelve months.

1. Doc Feldman & the LD50. Sundowning At The Station. This Is American Music

Soiled songs and dusty ballads sounding like a wounded Crazy Horse. A triumph for label of the year, This Is American Music.

And here’s the man himself

2. Michael Rank and Stag. Mermaids. Louds Hymn

Wracked and raw country folk and rock from North Carolina’s Michael Rank. In the space of two years he’s delivered three albums (one a double disc set) that in a fit of hyperbole we said it sounded as if Keef had left the Stones in ’69, joined The Band and recorded with Neil Young frying honeyslides in the kitchen. At the very least it comes close.

3. Israel Nash Gripka. Israel Nash’s Rain Plains. Loose Music

Guitars weave and wander with a ferocity and lyricism that defies description and he repeats this throughout the album and there’s a moment in the title song where the guitars fizz and burn just like the best firework you’ve ever seen.

4. Cam Penner. To Build A Fire. Independent

“Ukuleles, guitars, banjos were strummed. Floors were stomped. Kick drums were kicked. Feet stumbled. Thighs, knees, hands, slapped, clapped. Voices strained and bent. Fingers gripped, grabbed, picked. Arms and hands flung. Skin wrapped tight strained and stretched. Body and sound thrown against wood and metal.”

5. Michael Rank & Stag. In The Weeds. Louds Hymn
No apologies for the second appearance from this tall, stick thin North Carolina rock’n’roll ragamuffin. The sonic slurry he conjures up is nothing less than mesmerising.

6. Sam Baker. Say Grace. Independent

Baker’s wounded heart goes from strength to strength

7. Diana Jones. Museum of Appalachia Recordings. Proper Records.

She’s not well known but whenever we mention her there’s a flurry of activity from folk who recognise Jones’ ability to sound as old as the hills and bang up to date, the thinking man’s Gillian Welch?

8. Birds of Chicago. Birds of Chicago. Independent.

JT Nero makes an honest woman of Allison Russell as they formally pair up for a laid back celebration of harmony singing and some Tupelo honey.

9. Dead Flowers. Midnight at The Wheel Club Hee Haw Records

Dark and deep, vocally and lyrically, a trip through North America and the soul.

Dead Flowers – The Beach from deadflowers on Vimeo.

10. Wynntown Marshals. The Long Haul. Blue Rose.

Local heroes, The Wynntown Marshals survived some turbulent years with band members coming and going. With new crew on board they came up trumps with a bigger, more layered sound and another fine songwriter in the shape of bassist Murdoch McLeod who penned the amazing Tide. Topping off a great year for them the band were snapped up by the very discerning blue Rose label.

Honorable mentions

Howe Gelb. The Coincidentalist
Howe Gelb. Dust Bowl
Mark Collie & his Reckless Companions. Alive At Brushy Mountain State Penitentiary.
J. R. Shore. State Theatre.
The Coals A Happy Animal
Benjamin Folke Thomas. Too Close to Here
Slaid Cleaves. Still Fighting The War
Thriftstore Masterpiece presents Lee Hazlewood’s Trouble Is A Lonely Town.
The Quiet American. Wild Bill Jones
Amanda Pearcy. Royal street
Heidi Talbot. Angels Without Wings
Jim Dead I’m Not Lost
Rachel Brooke. A Killer’s dream
Great Peacock E. P.

Rachel Brooke. A Killer’s Dream.

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Regular readers might know that we’re suckers for the darker side of Americana, the underbelly, the dank, dangerous deadlands where a switchblade might be as handy as a guitar. Be it under a blistering desert sun or on a spooky New Orleans backstreet, murder, mayhem and madness do brighten up the day’s listening. With this in mind Rachel Brooke’s latest album, A Killer’s Dream, was almost predestined to land here with its promotional tag line of American Gothic Roots music, a fairly good description. Looking as if butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth (aside from a prominent tattoo on her arm) Ms. Brooke appears to dwell in a twilight world of misty menace peopled with the ghosts of country past, R’n’B ghouls and faded jazz divas and the album is a collection of portentous songs filled with omens and foreboding.
With an extremely able backing band Brooke ranges from old time country, rockabilly, gutbucket blues and New Orleans jazz as easily as one changes a shirt. In addition to guitar and vocals she manages tympani, xylophone, vibraphone, bass drum and percussion while slide guitar, fiddle, musical saw and trumpet all feature over and above the bass and drums. The album kicks off in fine style with her lonesome voice on the 38 second Have It All before the band crashes in with the magnificently sloppy blues of Fox In A Henhouse where Brooke’s waiting for a love rival with a .38 in her hand. Late Night Lover is slinky, sexy and spooky while a cover of Fats Domino’s Every Night About this Time would sit well in the sleazy roadhouse in Twin Peaks. Away from the raucous rough and tumble of the opening songs Brooke tumbles into a country mode with Life sentence Blues, a spare cry from the heart while Old faded Memory, a duet with Lonesome Wyatt features an elderly pair reminiscing and regretting on a live spent together that they never had. The most delicate song on the album it’s the highlight here as Brooke sings clear as a mountain stream. It’s back to the louche side of life on the slippery trumpet driven Ashes To Ashes while The Black Bird hints at sinister goings on. The title song closes the album and weirdly enough is the most upbeat song here with a sound not too far removed from early sixties girl group offerings from the red Bird label. It’s sassy and almost tongue in cheek compared with its predecessors. A hidden track at the end closes the album on a sombre note.

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