Son Volt "Trace" (Warner Brothers, 1995)
Boomeranging out of the implosion of Uncle Tupelo, guitarist-lyricist Jay Ferrar founded yet another alt-country touchstone, the highly regarded Son Volt, mixing grunge and twang with an ironic, sideways world view. Well, count me in the minority: this really doesnŐt do much for me. I mean, I can see how this furthers the cause of country-rock as an artform, and I can see Ferrar's attraction for punky types who want to hear some alt-country with more substance than the same old chicken-pickin' guitar licks and lowbrow white trash stereotypes... Good for them! If this music rocks their world, more power to 'em. I, on the other hand, find the vague, oblique, artsy lyrics to be a bit of a bore -- what the hell is he talking about? -- and Ferrar's fake-old geezer vocals are kind of lumpen and uninvolving. I'm sure if I devoted enough time to this album, it would richly reward a closer reading, but I just don't care enough to put in that kind of effort. The musical end, particularly the pedal steel, is very solid, and they definitely raise the bar in all aspects of the genre. But you really have to be of that certain, shall we say, youthful temperament where you either find pleasure digging for meaning in obscurantist wordplay, or you just don't care what the hell the singer is singing about, and just get off on how the band sounds. Me, I've got plenty of records that excite me more, so I can pass on this one. (Amusing use of Teen Fanclubby guitar solos, though...!)

Son Volt "Straightaways" (Warner Brothers, 1997)
This is kind of standard-issue twangy alt-country-rock fare, with overly-growlly vocals (do they go to some kind of class to learn to sing that way?) and aggressive power rock guitars. This disc doesn't suck, but it's also not very subtle or graceful... A little too muscle-headed for me, and formulaic. It's OK though; I've definitely heard lots worse.

Son Volt "Wide Swing Tremelo" (Warner Brothers, 1998)
Opening with a much more crunchy guitar sound and LOTS of processing on his vocals, Ferrar appears to be giving the big old hi-de-ho to crabby true-country fans like me who keep carping about the too-rockiness of his approach. The second song, though, "Driving The View," has a really nice, easygoing, power-pop feel to it -- it's a nice catchy little song. But there's a lot of production chicanery going on, and a seeming deemphasis on the lyrics, an obscuring of their audibility that nudges the band towards an REM-ish incomprehensibility. Which is fine: throwing their lot in more clearly with artsy college-rockin' altie-ness does make things simpler. The rural musical touches become just that -- musical and textural affectations, simply a few more colors in the palette; sonic touches instead of statements of purpose. Other than a couple of tunes where they try to make the music stick out at odd angles, this is a very listenable record, one that I could see having on in the background, or at a backyard barbeque. I still have no idea what the f**k Ferrar is singing about, but the album feels very upbeat and cheery.

Son Volt "Okemah And The Melody Of Riot" (Sony-BMG, 2005)
For many in the alt-country community, a new album from Jay Farrar is cause for wild, riotous celebration... That's particularly true when it comes under the banner of his long-dormant, legendary band, Son Volt. Here, Farrar pays tribute to the great folk forefather, Woody Guthrie, by naming an album after Guthrie's childhood home of Okemah, Oklahoma, and by exploring newfound political preoccupations -- fretting about environmental decay, far-flung global warfare and the ongoing social dissolution of the good old U.S. of A. You might be hard-pressed to figure that all out by simply listening to the album; the intellectual content is masked by sweet melodies and jangly guitars, as well as by the oblique, artsy poetic lyrical style of the indie/lo-fi scene, which additionally comes draped in the lazy vocal elisions that Farrar seems to favor (along with oh, so many others...) It's as if sincerity and earnest concern for the state of the world is too uncool for indie rockers to openly embrace, so in order to not chase the hipoisie away, he has to make it all sound mysterious and ironic, and hope that some of his message will seep in through the margins. Farrar himself seems conscious of the problems using the pop medium to address the thorny problems of harsh reality: on "Gramophone," he laments the ability of "vinyl discs with power to hypnotize" to reinforce our worst, most solipsistic tendencies, in effect letting us dope ourselves up with comfortable, disposable, emphemeral popular culture. And yet, here he is, apparently enveloped in detachment and irony, half-pretending not to care, or at least not to believe that there's any hope for a solution. Obviously, it's a hard row to hoe when you're a pop musician trying to grapple with serious issues and real philosophical dilemmas -- what rock star would want to be seen as a dull grind? But these are times when the real world -- and I do mean the real world -- is about to catch us by the collar and make us all do some serious reevaluation of what we've been up to for the last century or so, and much to his credit Farrar seems to realize it, and wants to explore what this means. So, three cheers for Jay: his new album sounds nice and it's a sincere effort to puncture the complacency that shrouds us from our future... And, with the imprecision of his lyrics, there's a fill-in-the-blanks Rorschach-iness to it, where listeners can decide on their own just how glum the days to come might be... Who knows, maybe things aren't as bad as we think!

The South Austin Jug Band "Pickin' & Grinnin' " (?)

The South Austin Jug Band "The South Austin Jug Band" (Blue Corn, 2004)
A fine set of funky, raggedy, jam-oriented blues-&-twang from some young'uns on the Austin scene... An enjoyable set filled with original material and heartfelt performances, lively acoustic music with real drive to it, and more earthiness and substance than many likeminded contemporary bands such as the Old Crow Medicine Show, et. al. Songwriter James Hyland, who put out a couple of fine albums on his own a few years back, is a guiding force in this band, but they definitely have the feel of a group of equals, each adding their enthusiasm and skill... If you like folks like Doug Sahm or the Yonder Mountain String Band, you might wanna check this disc out... It's tasty!

The South Austin Jug Band "Dark And Weary World" (Blue Corn, 2005)
Another great outing from this dynamic, delightfully eclectic altie-ensemble, seamlessly mixing bluegrass, honkytonk and stringband jazz in a distinctive and delightfully personal style. James Hyland continues to shine, both as a vocalist and songwriter, penning gems such as the fog-blown, evocative road song, "Dark And Weary World," a Steve Earle-ish number that opens the album and sets a very high bar. The rest of the album holds up its end as well, propelled by some of the most lively, enthusiastic picking you're likely to hear for a while, along with a wealth of original material. Bassist Will Dupuy contributes several songs on a more novelty-oriented variety, including "Karma" and "Coon Ass," each with a captivating melodic bounce. On the musical end, fiddler-mandolinist Dennis Ludiker emerges as a guiding force, providing both power and restraint, from the Celtic-flavored, Grismanesque "Overdrivin' The Mic" to the sweet, swinging version of Gershwin's "Lady Be Good." Another well-chosen cover is Bruce Robison's "She Don't Care About Me," revived from a long-lost Kelly Willis EP of years gone by... All in all, the SAJB remain one of the most dynamic, cohesive acoustic swingbilly bands around... and this is another mighty fine album. Recommended!

Southern Culture On The Skids "Mojo Box" (Yep Roc, 2004)
A fine, fun album full of bouncy, hook-heavy retro-rock -- surfabilly, Southern soul, and a smattering of tongue-in-cheek country. The lead track, "Smiley Yeah Yeah Yeah," lets you know where their heads are at on this one: it's a melody-heavy party record that doesn't take itself too seriously, and just lets the good times roll. The de-emphasis on white trash stereotypes and renewed attention to musicianship is most welcome, as far as I'm concerned. Recommended!

Split Lip Rayfield "Never Make It Home" (Bloodshot, 2001)
Even as a dutiful former son of Lawrence, KS, I didn't have high hopes for this hometown outfit... I guess the dopey bandname kind of put me off. Turns out they're a pretty decent, old-time-ish stringband, along the lines of the early Red Clay Ramblers albums, and their album is surprisingly good. Their material is almost all original, and balances rambunctiousness with a certain fresh approach... Sure, it's a little cluttered and a little forced in the hick schtick department, but far less so than I would have imagined. If you're looking for something new and original in this field, then check these guys out. This isn't the kind of album that sends me into the stratosphere, but I am really curious to find out where they go from here.

Split Lip Rayfield "Should Have Seen It Coming" (Bloodshot, 2004)
One of the finest acoustic twangcore albums of recent vintage... Now, I may be a little biased since these fellas are from my old hometown of Lawrence, Kansas, but really I thought this was an impressive set of tunes. Building from a bluegrassish base of banjo and mandolin, the Rayfield quartet use a scrappy sound to mask their abundant talent (check out that mandolin solo at the end of the title track... that boy can really play!), and leave listeners to concentrate on the lyrics, which turn out to be pretty darn good. Songwriters Wayne Gottstein and Kirk Rundstrom both tilt towards novelty material, but they manage to keep themselves above the lowest-common hick joke standards of the altabilly scene, and on occasion they craft a truly resonant tune or two. Some of the novelty songs are still tossoffs ("C'Mon Get Your Gun," et al) but the performances reveal an intelligence and affection for the style that puts these guys a notch or two above their contemporaries, and indeed, on the album's closer, "Just Like A Gillian Welch Song," they ably lampoon one of the giants of the genre. This may not be a purty-sounding record but it's still purty good.

Split Lip Rayfield "Should Have Seen It Coming" (Bloodshot, 2004)
Ooops... this one sat on my shelf for so long, looks like I reviewed it twice! Anyway, here's review #2: This is one fine, slam-bang twangcore/speedgrass set, from one of the finest bands currently on the Bloodshot roster. These Kansas fellers bring an injection of new life into the bluegrass scene, giving the stringband sound a punky little goose without sacrificing much in terms of the music -- they write some fine songs and pick pretty well (they're not dazzling, but they ain't bad...) Mainly, it's the songwriting that impresses me. This is an album full of original material, mostly split between guitarist Kirk Rundstrom and mandolin picker Wayne Gottstine, each of whom has his quirks and strengths. Gottstine's "Hundred Dollar Bill," which kicks the album off, is a really nice piece of country songwriting, while I had to check the liner notes to make sure that Rundstrom's "Used To Be" wasn't actually an old Merle Haggard song I'd somehow forgotten about... Seriously, it's that good. There are some lamentable moments that traffick in white trash stereotypes -- "Redneck Tailgate Dream" is thematically dull, and "C'Mon Get Your Gun" isn't much better -- but even these songs are delivered with more skill and depth than is the norm among many twangcore bands. All in all, this is a fine album, definitely worth checking out!

Max Stalling "Wide Afternoon" (Blind Nello, 2000)

Max Stalling "Comfort In The Curves" (Blind Nello, 1999)

Max Stalling "One Of The Ways" (Blind Nello, 2002)

Max Stalling "Sell Out: Live At Dan's Silverleaf" (Blind Nello, 2006)

Max Stalling "Topaz City" (Blind Nello, 2007)
(Produced by R. S. Field)
Folks who love their country music full of pedal steel and slinky, slurred guitars, smoky vocals and well-crafted lyrics should go ga-ga over this latest album by indie-oriented Texan songwriter Max Stalling. The set opens with a pair of mellow, novelty-ish tunes -- "If Only The Good Die Young" and "Never Need To Fall In Love Again" -- that recall the glory years of the 1970s when commercial country and the indie scene intersected: clever yet earthy, they would have fit in nicely on an old Johnny Duncan album, or something by Don Williams. Stalling himself has a laid-back vocal style that falls midway between Merle Haggard and George Strait, and he's easily as soulful and compelling as either of those country icons. Every song on here is an original and every one is a gem -- Stalling is a country singer who apparently can do no wrong. It's the kind of record that I can listen to for weeks on end, and plan to keep around for years to come... You owe it to yourself to check this one out!

Tammy Faye Starlite "Used Country Female" (Diesel Only, 2003)
A rock-heavy twangcore concept album about a sex-drenched country evangelical gal who likes nooky and drugs as much as she likes going down on her knees to praise the Lord. It opens with a foul-mouthed, sacreligious parody of Rick Springfield's "Surrender," and amplifies the theme with numerous songs such as "Misguided Magdalene," "Highway 69," and the menstrual-themed "Ride The Cotton Pony," as well as cover tunes like the Jules Styne showtune, "I Knew Jesus (Before He Was A Star)" that seem to fit into the album's theme. I think they're aiming for a profane, "Rocky Horror"-ish shock value, and for rebellious listeners recently in the thrall of a Christian education, the transgressive mix of religious and sexual themes may provide a great cathartic thrill. However, if you were already paying attention to the punk and Goth rock revolution of the late '70s and early '80s, you'll probably find all of this pretty old-hat: Wayne County or Diamanda Galas approached a lot of the same issues with much greater artistic impact. For those of us not caught up in Catholic or Evangelical theology, it's all one big shoulder shrug. Also: this isnŐt as "country" as one might hope; Tammy and her boys seem to have been having fun, but it doesn't mean a lot to me. I did enjoy her version of Marshall Chapman's "Don't Make Me Pregnant," the only performance that really stands on its own, outside of the context of the album.

The Star Room Boys "Why Do Lonely Men And Woman Want To Break Each Other's Hearts?" (Checkered Past, 1999)

The Star Room Boys "This World Just Won't Leave You Alone" (Slewfoot, 2002)
Bummed-out, traditionalist honky-tonk with pretty good lyrics and strong musicianship. The production is a little thin, but in a good way, as if to say, "hey, we're just real folks who can't afford a big budget... take it or leave it, dude." Songwriter Dave Marr seems to take his craft pretty ernestly; he coasts near the kind of broadly drawn, miserable-ole-me bathos that folks like Rex Hobart take all the way into camp, but I think Marr is serious about his down-in-the-mouth lyrics. At any rate, his John Anderson-y growly vocals are nice, and the band is pretty sharp. Nice to hear a twangy new band that doesn't mire itself in white trash stereotypes... for once!

Dave Stuckey & The Rhythm Gang "Get A Load Of This" (HighTone, 2000)
I always suspected that Dave was the brains behind the late, great Dave & Deke Combo, and that Deke just had the looks... Now, with the release of Dave's first solo album, my suspicions are confirmed. This is a flat-out awesome ton of fun -- Dave Stuckey playing upbeat western swingabilly along with a passel of hot-shot pickers from Austin and surrounding environs. Among the musicians pitching in on here are the picker's pickers, Biller & Wakefield, Whit Smith and Elana Fremerman of the Hot Club of Cowtown, and several other Gang members of equal note. The best part, though, is Dave himself. Half the songs on here are his originals, but they're so true to the style that you'd easily believe they were written back in the '40s and '50s, along with the oldies by Boudeleux Bryant, Benny Goodman and Harold Hensley. Stuckey is a for-real scholar of authentic, old-time, smirk-while-you're-singin' countrybilly music, and he stands heads above many other would-be retro-novelty singers, in his depth of knowledge, his excellent comic timing and feel for the material. (Plus, as a big Decca Records fan, I really dig the album art!) If you dug the Combo, you gotta check this album out.

Trent Summar & The New Row Mob "Trent Summar & The New Row Mob" (VFR, 2000)

Trent Summar & The New Row Mob "Live At 12th & Porter" (DCN, 2003)

Trent Summar & The New Row Mob "Horseshoes And Hand Grenades" (Palo Duro, 2006)
Yeahhhhhh!! Let's hear it for the dark underbelly of Nashville! Songwriter Trent Summar is doin' fine for himself as a Music City songsmith (you might recognize his Steve Earle-styled rebel anthem, "Guys Like Me," from its earlier incarnation on a Gary Allan album...) but he's also one helluva alt-ish hard country artist all on his own. This is a flat-out awesome, smokin' set of hard-edged, cheerfully rowdy, rollicking material, from the twangy title track, to the power-chord, Southern Rock heaviness of "She Knows What To Do," kind of the guys-eye view of the Gretchen Wilson schtick. One song stands out as a potential Top 40 smash: "Supposed To Do" is a mournful, shimmering ballad about all the things that add up, in their little way, to a broken heart: the truck that took her away, etc., and while I could easily see any number of Nashville stars taking this one on, Summar's own vocals are perfect on this tune... In a just world, a song like this should sail to the top. Other highlights include "Really Never Loved Her Anyway" (another fine novelty song) and "Girl From Tennessee," which extols the virtures of the local gals, and is a fine tune, despite strong thematic (and structural) similarities to Willis Alan Ramsey's "Northest Texas Women..." The only weak note on the entire album is Summar's cowpunky rave-up on his cover of the George Jones oldie, "He Stopped Loving Her Today," but one dubious tune stacked up against ten winners ain't a bad ratio. This disc is highly recommended.

Sunny Sweeney "Heartbreaker's Hall Of Fame" (Self-Released, 2006)
God bless Texas! That little state has got more real country music in its little finger than the rest of the country has in its collective craw. Newcomer Sunny Sweeney is the latest example of the Lone Star State's amazing ability to produce the sort of super-twangy, super-indie honkytonk that makes folks like me look forward to tapping our toes and drinking our beers for year to come. Possessed of a squeaky little rasp that seems equal parts Tanya Tucker and Iris Dement, Sweeney sings with true conviction and pure delight, infusing each song with sincere emotion and a swinging sense of fun. Her band twangs along at a rapid-fire clip, slathering on sweet fiddle, pedal steel and bouncy guitar -- all pure catnip for the hard-country crowd. The song selection can't be beat, either, ranging from several great Sweeney originals to a pair of Jim Lauderdale tunes, a cover of Lacy J. Dalton's ode to Nashville, "16th Avenue," and a version of Iris Dement's "Mama's Opry" that's so achingly sincere, you'll find it hard to believe Sweeney didn't write it herself. Lauderdale makes an appearance himself, singing a fine duet on Keith Sykes' "Lavender Blue," while fiddler Bobby Flores -- a longtime indie-Texas stalwart -- helps anchor the band. All in all, a really nice record and a kickass debut that should set Sweeney on the path to win a much wider audience. Recommended! (See her website for more info: www.sunnysweeney.com )

Jesse Sykes & The Sweet Hereafter "Reckess Burning" (Self-Released, 2002)

Jesse Sykes & The Sweet Hereafter "Oh, My Sweet Girl" (Barsuk, 2004)
On her debut album, Seattle's Jesse Sykes proved herself an able reinterpreter of the folk-country tradition, crafting unusual, alluring acoustic-based numbers that nodded towards an indie-rock background, but held their own on the playing field of acousto-crossover music. On her second record, Sykes delves more explicitly into rock music, with leisurely, deliberate electric guitar lines that snake through her allusive lyrics, and some of the most beautiful vocals and baffling lyrics you're likely to hear for some time. Sykes has set herself squarely in the firmament of mature, mysterious artists such as Beth Orton and Elliott Smith, singers whose melodies and songwriting will echo seductively in your mind, even if their allusive interior monologues prove impentrable to the outside world. This is an album filled with one gorgeous song after another. The meandering words draw you in, even if their meaning slips away faster than your apprehension, and Sykes herself has taken on a new gravitas as a singer, echoing the soulful depth of England's June Tabor or the incandescence of Sinead O'Connor. Sorry if I'm being too effusive, but this is a record that will stick with you for years to come, a disc you have to live with and love, an album that will change its appearance each time you listen to it, like a plain-looking river rock that becomes opalescent when wet. And, yes, the country elements are still in there -- seems like everybody in indieland loves the pedal steel these days; albums like this represent the highwater mark of its appropriation. This is a really nice record, well worth checking out.

Keith Sykes "Let It Roll" (Fat Pete, 2006)
A songwriter's songwriter, Keith Sykes straps on an electric geetar and fires it up with a full band, getting into a big, Muscle Shoals-y, roots-soul groove. I found that the muscularity of the arrangements frequently pulled me away from the lyrics, which was unfortunate, since Sykes's sly, Rodney Crowell-ish vocals sound pretty swell. But folks who are into the rock-tinged work of alt-twangsters such as Robert Earl Keen, Radney Foster and Gurf Morlix will find a kindred spirit here. For those of us who like simpler stuff, his stripped-down version of Richard Leigh's sly barroom ballad, "What Are We Waiting For," will be an album highlight. Nice to hear a '70s old-timer still kickin' up some dust and causing a ruckus.

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Hick Music Index

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