Tag Archives: Country

Laura Benitez and the Heartache: Heartless Woman

Twangy, throwback country meets modern-day relationships

California singer-songwriter Laura Benitez may profess a disinterest in “recreating the past in a recording or at a show,” but her steel-infused second album has a lot more in common with country music of the decades before her birth than the note-perfect arena-ready crossover productions of modern Nashville. Much like Dee Lannon, another country singer bred of the San Francisco Bay Area, Benitez sings rock ‘n’ roll-tinged honky-tonk with a lyrical outspokenness that carries on the works Kitty, Tammy, Dolly and Loretta. Together with her road band, the Heartache, Benitez has laid down a set that sports the give-and-take of live performance, rather than the metronomic perfection of endless studio retakes.

The album’s opening kiss-off, “Good Love,” forges self-appreciation out of romantic ashes, echoing the personal discovery and emotional strength found in the great run of hits by Patty Loveless, Martina McBride, Jo Dee Messina and other female country singers of the 1990s. Benitez isn’t afraid to ask for what she wants in “Take Me Off the Shelf,” nor does she shy away from the other woman’s truth of “I Know You’re Bad” or the poison of “This Empty Bottle.” When it’s time to hit the road, Benitez doesn’t hesitate, though the rebuke of “Imitation of You” is tangled with recrimination, and the wishes of “Heartless Woman” are perhaps only half-hearted.

The band’s rhythm section is solid but restrained, and the harmony vocals – many provided by Benitez herself – add flavor without compromising the leads. Ian Taylor Sutton’s steel guitar favors Don Helms’ classic work on “Where You Gonna Be Tonight,” and Benitez’s forlorn vocal suggests Linda and Emmylou. The album closes with a cover of Gillian Welch’s “Tear My Stillhouse Down” whose 2/4 beat and electric guitar shift the lyrics from remorse to self-anger. Benitez isn’t one to sit around and mope, so even her most troubled songs have an upbeat feel, ala the Derailers or Buck Owens. And like the Derailers, classic country twang provides a jumping off point for Benitez and the Heartache, rendering their music fresh, but anchored in an era before ProTools, auto-tune and crossover striving. [Â©2014 Hyperbolium]

Laura Benitez and the Heartache’s Home Page

Ronnie Fauss: Built to Break

Late-blooming Americana singer-songwriter brings punk-rock brio

Singer-songwriter Ronnie Fauss seemed to materialize from the ether with his 2012 label debut, I Am the Man You Know I’m Not. And though his public career as a musician started late, he’d been self-releasing EPs alongside a life that included both profession and parenthood. Like many late blooming artists, Fauss came to his craft with something more to express than the intense, but often callow emotions of youth. As a Texan and label mate of John Hiatt and Steve Earle, Fauss’ characters and stories are informed by the state’s songwriting heritage, but his music mixes a healthy dose of rock ‘n’ roll with its twang. He takes it down to acoustic guitars and fiddle for several tracks, but electric guitar, bass and drums form much of the album’s core, suggesting the Long Ryders, David Lindley and others who straddled the divide.

Fauss’ singing may remind you of Social Distortion’s Mike Ness, with a similar punk-rock brio fronting the wear of every day living. Fauss’ protagonists are long on enumerating their shortcomings, though often short-changed on remediation. The down-tempo “The Big Catch” offers a bleak picture of dysfunctional parenting echoing from one generation to the next, and “Never Gonna Last,” sung as a duet with Jenna Paulette, turns on the hook, “I ain’t never been more lonely / than the time I spent hanging around you.” His characters race one another to be the first out the door, leaving them oddly disappointed when they lose. The Old 97’s Rhett Miller guests on the trucking-themed “Eighteen Wheels,” supplemented by Chris Tuttle’s rousing piano, and a cover of Phosphorescent’s “Song for Zula” repatriates its opening nod to “Ring of Fire.”

Those with holiday depression may want to steer clear of “I’m Sorry Baby (That’s Just the Way it Goes),” in which Fauss relates an aging mother’s lonely Christmas. Whether the song is arch or callous is unclear, but it’s effective. There’s a note of remorse in “I Can’t Make You Happy,” but the tone is more fatigued surrender than prolonged sorrow. The closing “Come on Down” is a poignant lament whose siren’s call and working-class strength are underlined by Devin Malone’s sorrowful steel guitar. The song provides a thoughtful ending to an album that reflects on the realities of adulthood and their roots in (and on-going repercussions to) childhood trajectories. Those who enjoyed Jonny Two Bags recent Salvation Town will find a kindred musical spirit in Ronnie Fauss, and those who haven’t heard either should start right here. [Â©2014 Hyperbolium]

Ronnie Fauss’ Home Page

Paul Thorn: Too Blessed to Be Stressed

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Optimistic album of soul and funk

Mississippi singer-songwriter Paul Thorn returns with his first album of originals in four years. His previous album, What the Hell is Goin’ On?, was stocked with cover songs that essayed Thorn’s finely selected influences and showed off his talent for interpretation. Returning to his own pen, Thorn’s taken a broader tack in his songwriting. Where his earlier albums tended to autobiography, his latest collection makes a purposeful reach for more universal and upbeat themes. There’s personal inspiration in each of these songs, but rather than telling the story of a specific situation, Thorn’s dug to each story’s roots to express thoughts and feelings that resound easily with each listener’s own life.

These songs show Thorn to be an optimist, rather than a Pollyanna. His protagonists look to the sunny side, but they see storms and expect a cloud break rather than an endless stretch of clear weather. He anticipates the healing cures for loneliness rather than cataloging its pains, and he’s a clear-eyed romantic who sheds no tears with his goodbyes. As the album’s title states, Thorn is “Too Blessed to Be Stressed,” and he advises that you “Don’t Let Nobody Rob You of Your Joy.” That latter message neatly extends into a self-directed resolution as the moral lapse of “I Backslide on Friday” is redeemed by Saturday’s reprieve and Sunday’s repentance.

The optimism fades into the exasperation of “Mediocrity’s King,” as Thorn laments the commonness of superstores and oppositional politics, and in its unstated subtext, an apathetic electorate whose dreams of progress have turned into a voracious appetite for cheap prices and mindless entertainment. Thorn’s gruff, blue-soul vocals are weary but hopeful, and the album’s potpourri of soul, funk, gospel, country and rock recalls the hey-day of Memphis and Muscle Shoals, without ever imitating either one. The road-hewn band finds many deep grooves, and Thorn sings with a smile that shines on you with an optimistic glow. [Â©2014 Hyperbolium]

Paul Thorn’s Home Page

Kelley Mickwee: You Used to Live Here

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Trishas vocalist soaks her Texas twang in the Memphis River

It takes literally two seconds to feel the Aretha-in-Muscle-Shoals vibe of this disc’s opener, “River Girl.” The electric piano clues you in and the guitar nails it. And if you somehow still didn’t get it, the organ’s answer to the piano and the deep soul of the vocal leave no doubt that Kelley Mickwee has returned home to her native South. After five years in Austin as a member of the Trishas, Mickwee’s reconnected with the musical sounds of her youth, and the results are every bit as good as you might imagine. In fact, it’s startling how much this doesn’t sound like Texas music. The bass has a relaxed groove, the guitar tone is thick, and the drums linger even when they lope into a shuffle. The music hangs in the air like humidity and clings toÂ the spiritual qualities of Mickwee’s singing.

Mickwee’s return to the River City has stirred both musical and life roots, and her songs explore both the overall feel and specific memories of Memphis living. The opener is a declaration of faith that’s echoed by the homesick longing of the follow-up, “Take Me Home.” Co-writer Kevin Welch adds a tremendous guitar solo to the former, and the latter is given some country flavor by Eric Lewis’ pedal steel. Mickwee’s passion runs deep, brooding in “You Don’t Live Here,” beseeching in John Fullbright’s “Blameless,” and prowling in the sultry “Hotel Jackson.” She sings full-throated, like Linda Ronstadt in her Capitol years, and her Austin/Memphis connection provides a double shot of soul. [Â©2014 Hyperbolium]

Kelley Mickwee’s Home Page

Listen to “River Girl” and “Hotel Jackson“

The Revelers: Swamp Pop Classics, Volume 1

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Hot covers of four swamp-pop favorites

Founding members from two of Louisiana’s freshest bands of the past decade – the Red Stick Ramblers and the Pine Leaf Boys – have joined together to produce this four-song salute to swamp pop. Swamp pop is a label given to the late-50s amalgam of southern R&B, soul, doo-wop, country, Cajun and zydeco influences heard in chart hits like Jimmy Clanton’s “Just a Dream,” Phil Phillips’ “Sea of Love” Grace and Dale’s “I’m Leaving It Up To You,’ and most famous of all (due to Bill Haley’s rock ‘n’ roll cover), Bobby Charles’ classic “Later Alligator.”

The EP opens with a Cajun-influenced arrangement of “Let the Good Times Roll,” that combines accordion, horns and second-line drumming with electric guitar and bass that lean to Chicago R&B. Bobby Charles’ “Grow Too Old” brings the R&B focus back to New Orleans, and Jerry LaCroix’s “Lonely Room” echoes the ’50s vocal thread that runs through many swamp pop originals. The closing “Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf” is a horns-and-organ soul instrumental [1 2] juiced with a hot tempo, Blake Miller’s accordion, and a sizzling sax solo from the band’s newest addition, Chris Miller.

The Revelers’ Home Page

<a href="http://therevelers.bandcamp.com/album/play-the-swamp-pop-classics-vol-1">Play the Swamp Pop Classics Vol. 1 by The Revelers</a>

Matt Harlan: Raven Hotel

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Texas singer-songwriter is a poet and storyteller

Matt Harlan is a singer-songwriter whose original folk tunes are leavened with country twang and dusted with Texas soul. He’s tramped the blue highways of the U.S. and Europe (and written this album’s “Raven Hotel” about the ravages of touring), played intimate stages, house concerts and festivals, was lauded as last year’s Texas Music Award singer-songwriter of the year, and was featured alongside Guy Clark and Lyle Lovett in the documentary For the Sake of the Song. After a sophomore effort recorded with a Danish backing band, he’s returned to Texas to lay down a dozen new originals with help from Bukka Allen, Mickey Raphael and other area luminaries.

Harlan’s both a storyteller and a poet, illustrating his stories with memorable similes, and realizing his images with narrative detail. His lyrics of hard times take on the weary tone of Chris Knight, but unlike Knight’s often unrelenting bleakness, Harlan’s troubles are redeemed by dreams of forgiveness and the possibility of progress. The wounds of “We Never Met” are addressed with a fatalism that points forward, and the haggard trucker’s regrets in the superbly drawn “Second Gear” are grounded in hard-worn pride. Social commentary and glances towards the exit are juxtaposed in “Rock & Roll,” with an electric backing and matter-of-fact vocal that echoes Dire Straits.

Harlan turns to jazz with “Burgandy and Blue,” and to blues with “Slow Moving Train”; the latter features Mickey Raphael’s unmistakable harmonica and a duet vocal from Harlan’s wife, Rachel Jones. Jones brings a delicate, whisper-edged lead vocal to the free-spirited “Riding with the Wind.” The album closes with its most overt declarations of hope and dreams in “The Optimist” and “Rearview Display,” though as is Harlan’s way, his protagonists are clear-eyed as they contemplate the burdens of both limitations and freedom. This is a deeply written collection, sung with a storyteller’s magnetism and a poet’s magic. [Â©2014 Hyperbolium]

Matt Harlan’s Home Page

<a href="http://mattharlan.bandcamp.com/album/raven-hotel">Raven Hotel by Matt Harlan</a>

Carolina Story: Chapter Two

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Strong country duets from Nashville husband and wife

The empathy shared by great duet singers can take your breath away. The ways in which a duo’s voices complement, compete and provoke one another, the weaving of a harmony line above, below and around a melody, and the connection of two voices as they race around banked curves make listeners eavesdroppers as much audience. The Nashville-based Carolina Story, Ben and Emily Roberts, is just such a pair, a married couple whose duets bring mind the the Everly Brothers, Richard & Mimi Farina, and the more recent twang of Holly Golightly and the Brokeoffs.

The opening pair of tracks from this six-song EP sets the bar high. The first finds the duo rolling along to acoustic guitar, banjo, steel and a light beat as they celebrate the forging of their professional and matrimonial relationships in the crucible of a tour. The follow-on “Crash and Burn” is touched with blues, Dan Dugmore’s hard-twanging steel and a vocal that careens into a yodel. As memorable as are their duets, their solo turns on “When I Was Just a Boy” and “The Stranger,” show off lyrical voices steeped heavily in emotional reflection.

The set rolls to a close with the irrepressible duets “I Won’t Let You Down” and “I’m Gonna Love You Forever.” The former would have fit nicely into the 1990s era that found Mary Chapin Carpenter, Patty Loveless and Martina McBride breaking through to radio; the latter is an upbeat love song whose thesis is as direct as the song’s title. Paired with last year’s Chapter One, these six new tracks extend a partnership whose personal dimensions continue to pay off in artistic wealth. [Â©2014 Hyperbolium]

Carolina Story’s Home Page

Willie Nelson: Band of Brothers

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Willie Nelson returns to songwriting

Willie Nelson’s having quite a renaissance. With Sony’s Legacy division having broadened their scope from reissues to include new material from heritage artists, Nelson’s settled into a surprisingly comfortable home. His turn to classic Americana with Country Music and Remember Me, Vol. 1 led him back to his longtime home at Columbia (now part of Sony) for 2012’s Heroes, last year’s stroll through a set of standards, Let’s Face the Music and Dance and a set of duets, To All the Girls. On his latest, Nelson supplements his resurgent vocal and performing talents with a return to songwriting, penning nine new originals for this set of fourteen tracks.

At 81, Nelson still sounds remarkably fresh, and the cleverness of his lyrics is (as always) buoyed by deeper truths. The songs include the emotionally penetrating lyrics for which he’s renowned, ranging from low-key introspection to the mid-tempo cheek of “Wives and Girlfriends” and “Used to Her.” Nelson’s hiatus from songwriting is the subject of “Guitar in the Corner,” but in typical fashion there’s more than one layer, as he could just as easily be singing about rekindling an interpersonal relationship as returning to songwriting. The selection of covers include titles by Vince Gill, Shawn Camp and Bill Anderson; the latter’s “The Songwriters” is an apt selection for an album on which Nelson’s own pen has reemerged.

Buddy Cannon’s production and the hand-picked band (highlighted by Tommy White’s steel and Jim “Moose” Brown’s piano, and featuring the ever-present harmonica of Mickey Raphael) are spot-on, leaving room for Nelson’s gut-string guitar and idiosyncratic vocal phrasings. Jamie Johnson is the album’s only guest, adding a Waylon-like gravity on a duet of Billy Joe Shaver’s “The Git Go.” Nelson’s artistry is no surprise, but his continued enthusiasm for recording, and his revived interest in writing, is producing unexpected dividends for his many fans. [Â©2014 Hyperbolium]

Willie Nelson’s Home Page

The Farewell Drifters: Tomorrow Forever

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Superb melding of acoustic roots, folk-rockÂ and pop

Nashville’s Farewell Drifters are often likened to the Avett Brothers, Fleet Foxes and Mumford & Sons, and though there’s merit in these comparisons, lead vocalist Zach Bevill’s earnest tone often has more in common with the uplift of Tim DeLaughter’s Polyphonic Spree than acoustic roots acts. The group’s anthemic unison singing, and the addition of drums and electric guitar, bring to mind the Spree’s larger productions, and the Farewell Drifters’ citation of Brian Wilson as a primary influence is heard in touches of 1960s harmony, such as the opening chorale of “Starting Over,” and the instrumental production.

The opening “Modern Age” spins up from its plaintive start to a rousing mid-tempo awakening, with group vocals and an orchestral chime for extra lift. The acoustic strums of “Bring ’em Back Around” similarly build into a full-on rock song (with nostalgic lyrics that press many the same emotional buttons as Jonathan Richman’s “That Summer Feeling“), and “Motions” turns from spare piano into a drum-and-strings crescendo, transforming the lyric’s pessimistic premise into an optimistic expectation. The productions aren’t as grandiose as Art Decade‘s orchestral rock, but they draw inspiration from the same pop-rock well.

The group’s harmony singing and Americana roots show in the Band-like “Brother,” as well as the martial drum and banjo of “Tomorrow Forever.” The album’s forward motion – both musical and lyrical – is often stoked by backward glances. The chime added to the shuffling drum of “Tennessee Girl” adds a modern sound to a classic rhythm, just as the protagonist’s advance is connected to his past. There are threads of disappointment and hope throughout the album, suggesting that growth comes more often from studied failure than a safe lack of trying. It’s an empowering message, and one the Drifters communicate winningly in both words and music. [Â©2014 Hyperbolium]

The Farewell Drifters’ Home Page

NRBQ: Brass Tacks

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Terry Adams’ latter-day NRBQ keeps chugging along

The discussion no doubt rages on, as to whether founding member Terry Adams’ reconstituted lineup should be using the NRBQ name. Even Adams wasn’t so sure back in 1989. But with the band’s long-time lineup starting to fray in 1994, and an official hiatus ten years later, a number of interrelated projects took the group members in various directions. Adams, who turned out to have been dealing with throat cancer, returned to full-time music-making with the Terry Adams Rock & Roll Quartet in 2007, and four years later, with the rest of NRBQ still dispersed in other bands and projects, reapplied the NRBQ name to his quartet for the album Keep This Love Goin’.

Is it NRBQ? Many of the original band’s fans would probably say ‘no,’ but Adams, guitarist Scott Ligon, drummer Conrad Choucroun and bassist Casey McDonough, certainly carry on the NRBQ ethos of musical taste, deep knowledge and an irreverent sense of adventure. You need a pack full of hyphens to describe their mosaic of R&B, jazz, sunshine pop, country, folk and rockabilly, and their topics range from sweet (“Can’t Wait to Kiss You”) to loopy (“Greetings from Delaware”) to fantastical (“This Flat Tire”), and their music even stretches to a cover of Rodgers & Hammerstein’s “Getting to Know You” that’s more California sunshine than old Siam. Call them what you will, just make sure to call their music really good. [Â©2014 Hyperbolium]

NRBQ’s Home Page