Tag Archives: Country

Chris Laterzo: West Coast Sound

ChrisLaterzo_WestCoastSoundCanyon country with echoes of Neil, Gram, Jackson and the Byrds

There’s always been a note of Neil Young’s high, keening tone in Chris Laterzo’s voice, but on his fifth album, backed by twanging alt-country, the notes are more plentiful and apparent. That’s not a criticism, it’s a compliment, as Laterzo doesn’t copy Young so much as sing original songs in a style that echoes Young’s work from the ‘60s and ‘70s. You can also hear flavors of Shannon Hoon in his high notes and Chris Robinson in his tremelo, and the loping rhythms of Laterzo’s American “cowboy rock” also connect him to the cosmos of Gram Parsons. The album’s title track finds Laterzo surrendering not just to the natural elements of his adopted California, but also to the the country-tinged rock that once flowed freely from Laurel Canyon.

Laterzo sings lovingly of his former neighborhood, “Echo Park,” memorializing the people, places and lifestyle of an important point in his life. Dan Wistrom’s pedal steel is particularly potent on this track. Laterzo is settled in Los Angeles, but having grown up in Denver, Boston and Brussels, he harbors a wanderlust that’s satiated as a touring musician and as the rambler of “Tumbleweed.” The road beckons more darkly as an avenue of escape for “Someday Blue,” with a tempo and acoustic guitar that suggest the despair of the Rolling Stones’ “Angie.” Despair turns to resignation in “Drag,” as Laterzo concludes you can’t negotiate with a closed book, and resignation turns to spite in “Subaru,” despite the lyric’s claim to the contrary.

There’s a wistfulness to Laterzo’s singing that merges memories with realizations. The backward glances of “The Bradbury” and “Chaperone” aren’t nostalgia, they’re the slightly stoned, or in the case of “Chaperone,” fantastically dreamed, building blocks of experience. The latter is stripped down to acoustic guitar and snare drum, and played at a tempo that perfectly paces the sleepwalking vocal. Laterzo often sounds lost in thought, as if his thoughts are extemporaneous and still forming as they’re being related; it’s a powerful way to draw listeners into songs. The album is low-key, but Laterzo’s reflections are bright and engrossing, and will entice fans of Young, Jackson Browne, the Byrds and other canyon dwellers. [©2015 Hyperbolium]

Chris Laterzo’s Home Page

The Supersuckers: Holdin’ the Bag

Supersuckers_HoldinTheBagLong awaited country sequel to 1997’s “Must’ve Been High”

The Supersuckers have come a long way since the punk rock of their early releases. But it’s been twenty-five years since they began dropping the singles that became The Songs All Sound the Same, and lineup and management changes have paralleled musical excursions that included the country side road of 1997’s Must’ve Been High, the album’s demo sessions and live companion Must’ve Been Live. Oh, and an EP collaboration with Steve Earle. Country continued to thread into the group’s heavier rock, with catalog classics like “Creepy Jackalope Eye” getting numerous new treatments as the band’s membership and sound shifted.

2013’s Get the Hell showcased their guitar rock, but this year’s album is a treat for fans of the band’s country sounds. With cowboy hats tilted toward the setting sun, and guest appearances from Hayes Carll and Lydia Loveless, the band tackles ten originals, an updated cover of Hank Jr.’s “All My Rowdy Friends (Have Settled Down),” and on the CD and LP releases, an energetic cover of Billy Joe Shaver’s “Georgia on a Fast Train.” Recorded in Austin at Ray Benson’s Bismeaux studio, the sessions also include appearances from Mickey Raphael, Jeff Pinkus, Jesse Dayton, Jason Roberts and Nathan Fleming. The band’s current lineup is led by the unflagging Eddie Spaghetti on vocals and bass, and features guitarist Marty Chandler and drummer Chris Von Streicher.

Spaghetti has been dedicated to the band since its 1988 founding, but the resurgence of his singing and songwriting after a bout with throat cancer is the stuff of legends. Having poured his energy into recording and performing for so long, it must have been difficult to shift himself into recovery; and having done that, now shift back into performing. Spaghetti is clearly one tough dude. Even though the cancer diagnosis came after the album was recorded, many of the songs evince the badass, survivor’s attitude that is no doubt a part of Spaghetti’s wellness plan. And though a badass can be thorny and sarcastic (and very, very funny), they can also be surprisingly sensitive, as shown by the album’s songs of relationship turmoil.

The title track opens the album with romantic wariness that turns into bona fide doubt for the double entendre “High and Outside.” In turn, there’s annoyance (“Jibber Jabber”), mourning (“I Can’t Cry”) and, finally, acceptance (“This Life Would Be a Whole Lot Better If I Didn’t Have to Share it With You”). The album cover’s western shadows are paid off with the trail rhythm of the nameless “Man on a Mission” and the waltz-time “That’s How It Gets Done,” and though the arrangements are threaded with harmonica, banjo, mandolin, accordion, fiddle and steel, the band breaks out late-70s-styled rock ‘n’ roll for “Shimmy & Shake.” Well into their third decade, the Supersuckers sound better than ever, and with any luck, they’ll take this album on the road in 2016. [©2015 Hyperbolium]

Supersuckers’ Home Page

Tawny Ellis: Ghosts of the Low Country

TawnyEllis_GhostsOfLowCountryAmericana singer finds a soulful new sound in Muscle Shoals

Tawny Ellis has always delivered her music with a soulful edge, but her latest EP, recorded at Muscle Shoals’ FAME studio, takes things up a notch. The title track’s studied tempo, full stops, lap steel and Hammond B3 push Ellis into a vocal space she hasn’t really visited before, with long, full-throated notes shot through with thought and emotion. You can tell the band – the Five Eight’s Sean Dunn and Patrick Ferguson, bassist Peter Hamilton, and Ellis’ regular collaborator Gio Loria – were feeling the space in which they were recording. Ellis sings “Evolve or Die” more fervently than the 2008 original, prodded by Ferguson’s drumming and Loria’s deep bass pedals. The set closes with a cover of “Walking After Midnight” whose understated vocal feels particularly distraught. It’s a nice finish to a project that’s brought out new dimensions of Ellis and Loria’s talents. [©2015 Hyperbolium]

Tawny Ellis’ Home Page

Darrell Scott: Ten – Songs of Ben Bullington

DarrellScott_10SongsOfBenBeullingtonStirring tribute to a brilliant, largely unknown songwriter

The fellowship of songwriters is one that evokes appreciation in place of jealousy, and more often spurs “how’d you do that?” rather than “why didn’t I?” Songwriters appreciate one another’s songs at the emotional level of listeners, but also at the intellectual level of craftspeople. And when they play another songwriter’s material, it’s a compliment and possibly a favor, but mostly a way to better understand and enjoy the song and the songwriter. Darrell Scott hits all these notes with this album of ten songs by the virtually unknown songwriter Ben Bullington, and in interpreting another songwriter’s material, he tells the songwriter and the listeners something about himself.

Scott and Bullington developed a deep friendship that lasted only a short time before Bullington’s 2013 death, and much of that time was spent as friends, rather than musical colleagues. It wasn’t until a year before Bullington’s passing that Scott heard many of Bullington’s songs, and it wasn’t until only a few months before Bullington’s death that Scott began singing his friend’s material. Bullington had a full-time medical practice in Montana, and though he self-released several CDs, his touring, and thus his public renown as a songwriter remained limited during his lifetime.

Scott began recording his songs with an iPhone and sending them for his friend to hear during his last few months. The last track on the album, the prophetically titled “I’ve Got to Leave You Now,” is one of those recordings. Eight of the tracks were laid down in three days, just Scott, single instruments (guitar, banjo or piano) and Bullington’s songs. The tenth track, Bullington’s sharp slap, “Country Music I’m Talking to You,” was recorded live on tour. These performances express pure appreciation for the craft of a master songwriter, and they’re played and sung by a master performer, who is himself a master songwriter. Bullington’s songs aren’t good for a doctor, they’re just good. Really good.

Bullington was both an imaginative writer and a fine craftsman. His first-person narratives bring the listener into his experiences, illuminating moments that the listener may have experienced for themselves. His language is poetic in its plain spokenness, wonderful in the way that seemingly extemporaneous speech is made to rhyme in rhythm; doubly so in the hands of Darrell Scott, who sings the melodies, but more strikingly tells the songs as stories – just the way Bullington wrote them. “Born in ‘55” recounts the puzzling sadness young people felt in the wakes of JFK, MLK and RFK’s passings, and the awareness and anger that grew with each passing assassination. Scott’s elegiac piano is as sad as the lyrics, and gives the song the feel of something Jackson Browne might have written.

Raised in Virginia, Bullington attended college at Vanderbilt, soaking up the roots music that had first grabbed him in high school. After a spell in the oil industry he attended medical school and settled into a practice in a small Montana town, where he found time to re-engage with music. His original songs led to self-produced CDs which found numerous fans among Nashville’s roots music elite, a 2012 date at the Station Inn, and now this tribute. Scott has selected several songs that lean on memories, and whether they’re actual memories or a songwriter’s creations, they evoke immediate resonance, whether or not the listener had a problematic step-father, a love that faded away or has spent time in the wide open spaces of the northern states.

Bullington’s original recordings are available through his website, and tracks can be streamed on ReverbNation and YouTube; one can’t help but leave behind a digital trail these days. But as a songwriter, and particularly as a songwriter whose own performing career was circumscribed by professional choice, there’s an extra layer of meaning in hearing his songs live in another musician’s voice, and in seeing his writing form links in the folk music chain. Darrell Scott brings his best qualities as a singer, musician, colleague and friend to these performances, and in doing so, stokes the soul of these songs. [©2015 Hyperbolium]

Ben Bullington’s Home Page
Darrell Scott’s Home Page

Roy Orbison: The MGM Years – 1965-1973

RoyOrbison_TheMGMYears1965-1973Deluxe restoration of Roy Orbison’s MGM catalog

Roy Orbison’s titanic career had four distinct phases. His late ‘50s work for Sun set him up for his most commercially successful period at Monument in the early 1960s. And his return to stardom in the 1980s came after a period of retrenchment. In between, from 1965 through 1973, Orbison recorded a dozen albums for MGM, but edged only a few titles into the lower regions of the U.S. Top 40, including 1965’s “Ride Away” and “Breakin’ Up is Breakin’ My Heart,” and 1966’s Johnny Rivers-styled “Twinkle Toes.” Orbison’s late ‘60s and early ‘70s releases fared better in Australia, Canada and the UK, but amid the rising tide of of the British Invasion, folk rock and psychedelia, competing releases from Monument, and a lack of consistent promotion from MGM, the stateside success of these recordings remained limited.

Orbison left Monument on a high note, with the chart-topping success of “Oh, Pretty Woman,” but in moving to MGM he left behind producer Fred Foster, engineer Bill Porter, and RCA’s Nashville studio. Orbison expected that MGM would expand his career into film and television, but other than the B-movie The Fastest Guitar Alive (whose soundtrack is included here) and a few song placements, his multimedia dreams failed to come true. What he did get was an extraordinary degree of artistic freedom that resulted in the production of eleven MGM album releases in nine years, all of which are included here. Also included in the box set is a twelfth album, The Big O, released in the UK by London in 1970, and a collection of non-LP singles and B-sides.

Though not the hit-making machine of his Monument days, Orbison courted commercial success by writing and recording an enormous number of tracks, touring in support of his releases, and staying true to his core strengths as an artist. His first album for MGM, There is Only One Roy Orbison, retained the string accompaniment of his biggest hits, but with songs that don’t reach the emotion-searing crescendos of his Monument material. There’s a country element to many of the productions, with tinkling, slip-note piano and Mexicali-flavored acoustic guitars providing melancholy sorrow in place of heart-breaking drama. Orbison’s vocal on a remake of “Claudette” is nicely engaged, though the backing arrangement has neither the simplicity of his Sun-era demo or the revved-up energy of the Everly Brothers’ B-side. The album doesn’t really hit full stride until the middle of side two, with “Afraid to Sleep,” one of the few non-original titles, but a classic Orbison-styled drama.

His second MGM album, The Orbison Way, mixed orchestral ballads with pop numbers backed by the Candy Men. The orchestral numbers reached greater emotional heights than his previous album, but the singles (“Crawling Back” and “Breakin’ Up is Breakin’ My Heart”) found a lot of new competition on the charts of late 1965, and the album, released early in 1966, failed to make a commercial impression. Whether the style was out of step with the sounds of the time, or MGM failed to provide adequate promotion, the songs are excellent, the arrangements solid, and Orbison deeply invested in his performances. There are several memorable album tracks, including the stalwart “Maybe,” and a soulful electric piano solo by future Atlanta Rhythm Section founder Dean Daughtry on “Go Away.”

His next album, The Classic Roy Orbison, fared even worse commercially, with only the go-go “Twinkle Toes” denting the charts. The arrangements again include orchestration and band numbers, and though not as strong as the previous album, there are some true highlights, including the falsetto-laced “Pantomime,” the double-tracked vocal of “Going Back to Gloria” and the groovy beat of “Just Another Name for Rock and Roll.” The mid-tempo numbers don’t have the gravitas of Orbison’s best material, and the vocals don’t always sound deeply engaged. With his own writing failing to create hits, Orbison turned to an album of Don Gibson covers for 1967’s Roy Orbison Sings Don Gibson. It’s a comfortable, countrypolitan album, and Gibson’s songs fit Orbison well. Particularly worth hearing are Orbison’s reshaping of the classics “Sweet Dreams” and “Give Myself a Party.”

A similar songwriting detour for 1970’s Hank Williams the Roy Orbison Way, met with a similar lack of commercial success. The album’s rock-inflected sound was neither fish nor fowl; not rootsy enough to catch the attention of rock audiences, and too pop to find favor with country radio. One could imagine these arrangements being used on a mainstream television variety show. The tracks that work best, like “You Win Again,” find Orbison’s croon meeting Hank Williams’ sorrow half way, though even here, a background wah-wah guitar provides a distractingly dated touch. Orbison’s 1967 foray into film, The Fastest Guitar Alive, didn’t fare much better commercially. The soundtrack’s western-themed, folk-styled arrangements are unusual within the MGM catalog, and remain terrifically listenable. The closing “There Won’t Be Many Coming Home” was written to the film’s Civil War theme, but had a resonance with the Vietnam war that made it problematic for a U.S. single release.

Orbison’s operatic tenor, flights into falsetto and orchestrated rock ‘n’ roll grew increasingly nostalgic as the distance to his early-60s commercial prime widened. On the one hand, his releases weren’t climbing the domestic charts, on the other, he demonstrated unflinching artistic integrity in refraining from chasing trends. 1967’s Cry Softly Lonely One is filled with songs that would have been major hits four or five years earlier, but amid the psychedelic explosion of 1967, the three singles, including the superb Joe Melson-written title track, barely cracked the charts. The more reserved Many Moods features terrific displays of Orbison’s singing and an unusual number of covers, including the Righteous Brothers’ “Unchained Melody,” Gilbert Bécaud’s “What Now, My Love?,” the film theme “More,” a pair of Mickey Newbury songs, and a wonderfully melancholy reading of the Fantastiks’ “Try to Remember.”

Cover songs again dominate 1970’s Big O, including an eclectic selection of material from John D. Loudermilk (“Break My Mind”), the Beach Boys (“Help Me, Rhonda”), Motown (“Money”), the Platters (“Only You”), the Louvin Brothers (“When I Stop Dreaming”), Wilson Pickett (“Land of 1000 Dances”) and Orbison’s Sun-era B-side, “Go, Go, Go (Down the Line).” Recorded in the UK with backing by the Art Movement, Orbison’s enthusiasm pulls together this seemingly disparate material with performances that are spirited and charming. MGM passed on a stateside release at the time, making this album particularly unfamiliar to U.S. ears.

1972’s Roy Orbison Sings includes material co-written with Bill Dees, as well as Monument-era foil, Joe Melson. By this point, Orbison’s commercial success had fully evaporated, including his UK and Australian chart action, markets in which London had found success with singles that MGM couldn’t move in the US. Despite the lack of commercial response, Orbison kept investing himself in both his songwriting and recording, and nearing the end of his contract, he was still coming up with a few great tracks on each album. His cover of “Rings of Gold” is heavier than Don Gibson and Dottie West’s hit, and the vocal on Eddy Raven’s “Plain Jane Country (Come to Town)” reaches back to the sound of his Sun singles. 1972’s Memphis has a few nice moments, including a soulful cover of Don Gibson’s “I Can’t Stop Loving You,” the original “It Ain’t No Big Thing (But It’s Growing),” and a thoughtful expansion of the classic “Danny Boy.”

Closing out his contract with MGM, 1974’s Milestones feels like the end of a long haul. Ever the professional, Orbison gave the songs his best, highlighted by the original “Blue Rain (Coming Down)” and a cover of the Bee Gees’ “Words.” Capping the box set is a disc of sixteen non-LP singles and B-sides whose quality lends weight to Orbison’s complaint about MGM’s lack of promotional. Most of these A-sides could have been international hits, and even B-sides like “Shy Away” and “Flowers” should be better-known among Orbison’s recorded legacy. Though the albums were sprinkled with treasures, MGM B-Sides & Singles is a solid collection of memorable songs, clever productions and top-notch vocals. And even more so than the albums, the lack of commercial exposure and digital availability will make these single sides fresh to all but the most educated fans’ ears. The seven-minute, five-part “Southbound Jericho Parkway” is worth the price of admission on its own. The masters for this disc are stereo, except “So Good” and “So Young,” which are mono.

This is a monumental box. Each disc is delivered in a mini-LP reproduction of the original cover and screened with a period MGM label. The 64-page booklet features photos, covers, ephemera, and detailed liner and album notes by Alex Orbison. The audio was painstakingly transferred from the original multitrack tapes and mixed with the original albums as guides. The three years of work put into all aspects of this set (as well as the accompanying lost album, One of the Lonely Ones) has made it a true labor of love. Though the material could have been squeezed onto fewer discs, there’s a thrill to unboxing the individual albums and honoring their original configuration; those who opt for vinyl should find themselves fully transported back to the original artifacts. Orbison’s years at MGM may not have been as commercially fruitful as his time with Sun, Monument and Virgin, but the catalog is home to many artistic treasures that will be dear to the singer’s fans. [©2015 Hyperbolium]

Roy Orbison’s Home Page

King Curtis: The Complete Atco Singles

KingCurtis_TheCompleteAtcoSinglesSuper collection of King Curtis’ Atco singles – A’s and B’s

King Curtis’ saxophone may have been better known to record buyers than King Curtis himself. In an extensive career as a session musician, his horn provided iconic hooks and solos on singles by the Coasters (“Yakety Yak” “Charlie Brown”), Buddy Holly (“Reminiscing”) and LaVern Baker (“I Cried a Tear”). Curtis’ “Hot Potato,” originally released by the Rinkydinks in 1963, reissued as “Soul Train” by the Ramrods in 1972, and re-recorded by the Rimshots, was used as the original opening theme of Soul Train. But Curtis was also a songwriter and bandleader who produced dozens of singles under his own name, most notably “Soul Twist,” which he waxed for Enjoy, “Soul Serenade” for Capitol, and a number of hits for Atco, including “Memphis Soul Stew” and covers of “Ode to Billy Joe” and “Spanish Harlem.”

While at Atco from 1958 to 1959, and again from 1966 to 1971, Curtis released a broad range of singles that crossed the pop, R&B and adult contemporary charts. His sax could be tough, tender, muscular, smooth, lyrical and humorous, and his material included originals, covers of R&B and soul tunes, contemporaneous pop and country hits, film themes and even Tin Pan Alley classics. He recorded with various lineup of his own Kingpins (though perhaps never a better one than with Jerry Jemmott, Bernard Purdie and Cornell Dupree), but also with the players of the Fame and American Sound studio. He teamed with Duane Allman for the Instant Groove album, kicking out a Grammy-winning cover of Joe South’s “Games People Play,” and recorded “Teasin’” with Eric Clapton.

King Curtis’ singles catalog was filled with interesting selections, including superb covers of Big Jay McNeely’s “Something on Your Mind,” Rufus Thomas’ “Jump Back,” Buddy Miles’ “Them Changes” and a warm take on Mel Torme’s “The Christmas Song” that was lifted from Atco’s Soul Christmas. Curtis’ originals were just as good, including the twangy “Restless Guitar,” the go-go “Pots and Pans,” the manifesto “This is Soul,” the funky “Makin Hey,” and the frantic “Pop Corn Willy.” Of particular interest to collectors are the many singles that didn’t appear on original King Curtis albums, including eight of the first ten tracks on this set. Other non-LP singles include the guitar-centered “Blue Nocturne,” an early rendition of Donny Hathaway’s “Valdez in the Country” titled “Patty Cake,” and the yakety-sax oldies medley “Rocky Roll.” Of paramount interest is Curtis’ previously unreleased final Atco single, “Ridin’ Thumb,” which closes disc three and includes a rare King Curtis vocal.

With more than a third of these tracks having been originally released only as singles, this set will fill a lot of gaps, even for fans who’ve collected Curtis’ albums. The quad-panel digipack includes a 16-page booklet with liner notes by Randy Poe, photos, label reproductions and discographical detail. It would been great to get detailed session data, particularly on the bands and session players (and particularly the excellent guitarists), but such note taking wasn’t always on a producer’s mind in the 1960s. Curtis’ sides for Enjoy and Capitol are essential elements of his catalog, as are his early dates as a sideman; those new to his catalog might start with a multi-label best-of, but once you’re hooked, this collection of Atco singles (in pristine mono!) is a must-have. [©2015 Hyperbolium]

Charlie Rich: 25 All-Time Greatest Hits

CharlieRich_25AllTimeGreatestHitsCharlie Rich’s biggest country hits

Varese’s 25-track set collects Charlie Rich’s biggest hits from his decade on the Epic label, including all nine of his 1970s chart-toppers, and nearly all of his Top 40s. It also threads into the track list the mid-60s recordings for RCA that the label issued as singles in the 1970s in a successful effort to ride the coattails of Epic’s success. These sides represent Rich’s biggest hits, including the landmark “Behind Closed Doors” and the across-the-board smash “The Most Beautiful Girl in the World.” Missing is 1975’s “It’s All Over Now” (#23 Country), some lesser charting sides and singles released in the 1970s by Mercury, Elektra and United Artists.

Rich’s soulful delivery and musical range, exemplified by the jazz piano slipped into the pop “Nice ‘n’ Easy,” was unusual among his fellow Nashville hit makers. There’s some contrast between the earlier RCA sides and the Billy Sherrill-produced orchestrations on Epic, but they fit together surprisingly well. This is an excellent collection of Rich’s most commercially fertile years, but only scratches the surface of his artistic versatility. To get a broader view of the Charlie Rich story, supplement this set with collections of his work on Sun and Smash. [©2015 Hyperbolium]

Jeff Crosby: Waking Days

JeffCrosby_WakingDaysLaurel Canyon gets some twang

The Laurel Canyon-styled music heard earlier this year on Matthew Szlachetka’s Waits for a Storm to Find gets a running mate with “City Girls,” the opening track of Jeff Crosby’s third full-length album. Though his voice is more rustic, the production – particularly the bass playing of his brother Andy – is highly reminiscent of Fleetwood Mac’s Rumors, and particularly the song “Dreams.” It’s not the only sound swimming around Crosby’s head, as the album’s split between Los Angeles and Nashville studios adds twang to the West Coast vibe, and the solo acoustic passages, such as the intro to “Red, White and Blue,” play as singer-songwriter country.

Crosby’s voice is strong, but his songs plaintive, describing his struggle to reconnect with the evocative lyric “first day of Spring back home, and I’m just standing here like a payphone nobody uses anymore.” He wonders whether different life choices might have led to better outcomes on “I Should Be Happy,” ponders his place in the world on the album’s title track, but looks outward with the observational “The Homeless and the Dreamers.” Crosby’s material is mostly bittersweet, though he turns optimistic as he takes stock with “The Only One I Need.” The album’s canyon echoes reverberate in a pleasantly familiar way, but the songs are fresh and personal. [©2015 Hyperbolium]

Jeff Crosby’s Home Page

Denny Lile: Hear the Bang – The Life and Music of Denny Lile

DennyLile_HearTheBangA sad, brilliant gem of early ‘70s singer-songwriter country

Talent and hard work aren’t always enough. They can pave the path, but fame is at the end of a road pockmarked with “timing” and “connections” and “luck.” And though hard luck provides grist for the artistic mill, it can also keep a career from catching fire. Such was the case for Louisville singer-songwriter Denny Lile, whose talent, ambition and artistic brilliance weren’t fully rewarded by the popular recognition they deserved. Other than a song turned into a 1987 Top 10 Waylon Jennings hit (“Fallin’ Out”), Lile’s music, including this long-lost 1973 solo album, were consigned to virtual obscurity. His hometown renown brought feelers from New York and Nashville labels, but the sensitivity that made his songwriting so touching also fueled the alcoholism and self-doubt that sabotaged his career.

Lile wended his way through a number of Louisville bands, including Soul Inc. and Elysian Field, before striking a deal for this solo album. At only twenty-two years of age, his voice was decades older, with the weary, wary confidence of someone who’d logged more miles on his soul than his feet. His singing offered elements of Jim Croce’s melancholy, Gram Parsons’ grief, and, unusually in this company, Neil Diamond’s power; but even among those monumental touchstones, it was the candid voice of his lyrics that really stood out. Backed by guitar, fiddle, steel, dobro and a tight rhythm section of bass, drums and piano, Turley Richards’ productions of “Hear the Bang” and “If You Stay on Solid Ground” garnered a well-deserved offer from Hilltop Records; but while Turley was selling the single in New York, Lile signed with the local Bridges label, in a deal that would haunt him to his 1995 death.

Bridges’ distribution agreement with Nashville’s Starday-King did little to help the single or subsequent album gain traction, and both disappeared without much more than local notice. It’s hard to imagine in this hyperconnected, digital age that an album this good could vanish so completely, but Lile’s deal had surrendered both the recordings and his song publishing, and as the accompanying DVD documentary explains, it took more than four decades to untangle the rights and find the tapes. Once revived, the tapes revealed productions that are crisp and spacious – the sort of record that made your mid-70s stereo system shine – and performances that hold listeners in thrall with their confused and wounded heart. And that heart, Lile’s heart, was worn quite visibly on his sleeve as he sings of loving, leaving and being left.

Lile found that fading love doesn’t always fade evenly, and that its slow decay may not even be noticed until realizations are past due and apologies are rejected. Resignation to sad truths permeated Lile’s life, and in turn, his best songs. It led him to recoil from opportunity and sabotage possibilities for success. By the time his solo album was ready he said “Every time I’ve tried to get out of town – with Field, with Soul – something’s gone wrong. Every time I turn around an older musician is telling me his plan for making it. But nothing so far has worked. I think it’s better not to plan.” That feeling of futility suffused his songwriting, even as he spent years honing his lyrics and melodies to perfection.

The productions include many terrific touches, including congas on “If You Stay on Solid Ground” and phased fiddles on “Rag Muffin,” and there are several optimistic songs of love on the horizon (“She’s More to Me Than a Friend” and “After All”) and in full bloom (“Oh Darling” and “Rag Muffin”). But it’s the sad songs that will haunt you, especially after you’ve viewed the accompanying biographical documentary. “Will You Hate Me When I’m Gone” offers a prophetic echo as Lile’s daughter speaks of his passing, and “After All” could be a memo from Lile to himself as he sings “so tell me how you’re feeling today, tell me if I got in your way.” As the documentary shows, Lile’s alcoholism often got in his way as the industry tried to help him capitalize on his talent.

Lile had a knack for sabotaging himself, starting with his momentum-killing solo contract, and extending through numerous fumbled opportunities. Worries about his marriage and his duty as a father – a hangover from his parents divorce – kept him from touring, and a chance to play FanFest in 1973 fell prey to one-too-many nerve-calming drinks. Follow-up meetings with Waylon Jennings’ staff also suffered from the rough shape in which his alcoholism often left him. Even an accident that landed him in the hospital with broken bones and a lacerated liver didn’t deter his drinking. His world narrowed to a home studio purchased with the royalties from Jennings’ single, and then to a custom van in which he lived the last few years of his life. He died alone in the van, estranged from his family, at the age of 44.

Lile’s one stroke of luck came twenty years after his death, when former bandmate Marvin Maxwell bought the production company that owned Lile’s album. That led Lile’s nephew Jer to send a copy of the album to Fat Possum’s Bruce Watson, who immediately put this reissue in motion. The album stands as a lost classic, but fleshed out by Jer’s documentary interviews with family, friends, bandmates and industry associates, the package draws a picture of an artist more interested in art than fame, and a writer whose fragility and sadness were simultaneously his muse and his downfall. Big Legal Mess’s reissue includes five bonus tracks recorded during the album session, the DVD documentary and an eight-page booklet, all of which adds up to one of the year’s best vault discoveries. [©2015 Hyperbolium]

Jeanne Jolly: A Place to Run

JeanneJolly_APlaceToRunBlue country soul from talented Raleigh, NC singer-songwriter

Raleigh, NC singer-songwriter Jeanne Jolly has a voice that you could only be born with. A naturally rich instrument whose nuances were brought out – rather than boxed – through classical voice training. There’s nothing mannered in her expression as she soars through the eight new recordings – and seven original songs – of her latest solo release. Produced by her longtime collaborator Chris Boerner and self-released on Jolly’s Ramblewood imprint, the album shows the sort of care and sophistication one can layer into projects that don’t have a major label’s commercial ambitions loitering in the control room.

The eight-piece studio band includes pedal steel player Allyn Jones, keyboardist James Wallace, Bon Iver drummer Matt McCaughan, and Megafun’s Phil and Brad Cook. Together they explore country, soul, and even a bit of Memphis with the horn chart and solace of “Gypsy Skin.” Jolly’s vocals reach past the notes (which for someone of her abilities, are table stakes) to hit every emotion dead center. She soars from intimacy to strength in a single note as she wrestles with the fatalism of “California” and declares her need on “Boundless Love.” The latter’s soulful background vocals – all supplied by Jolly – are particularly mesmerizing.

Whether or not her writing is autobiographical, Jolly’s songs of rekindled memories (“Matches and Gasoline” “Circles in the Sky”), rediscovery (“Without You”) and admiration (“Good Man”) ring true. It’s rare to hear someone with such technical control turn notes blue without feeling as if they’re calibrating just how blue to let them turn. But Jolly sings from an emotional place and her voice responds to what she’s seeking to express; it’s the sort of connection between soul and voice you hear in the singing of Patty Loveless, Bonnie Raitt and Joni Mitchell, and well worth hearing for yourself. [©2015 Hyperbolium]

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