Christmas in the Smokies
4 stars (out of 5)
By Chris Shouse
It’s the time of the year that jolly old St. Nick is checking his list and parents are hanging their stockings with care. Pinecastle Records is in on the festivities with the 15-track, 45-minute Christmas in the Smokies.
I’ll be the first to admit that I’m not a huge fan of Christmas albums but just like Brylcream, a little dab will do ya. Now before you start mailing me lumps of coal for this statement, Mr. Grinch, I really like this album and I found myself tapping my toes and enjoying the fabulous picking and singing from Pinecastle artists past and present, including crooners like Charlie Waller (with a grand “White Christmas”), Larry Stephenson (on the lullaby “Away in a Manger”), and Josh Williams (“My Christmas Dream”).
Other clever renditions of classic songs that everyone will recognize include a lush arrangement of “The Christmas Song” and a jazzy “Santa Claus is Coming to Town” from Newton and Thomas, and grassy takes on “Winter Wonderland” and “Go Tell it on the Mountain,” from Wild and Blue and Special Consensus, respectively. Celebrated pickers Phil Leadbetter (“Jingle Bells”), Ross Nickerson (“Oh Come All Ye Faithful”), and the trio of Scott Vestal, Wayne Benson, and Jeff Autry (“Frosty the Snowman”) chip in crisp instrumentals.
Two of the less familiar songs are welcome additions to anyone’s bluegrass Christmas playlist: “It’s a Time for Joy” from Matt Wallace and Jesse Gregory and the title track from Lorraine Jordan and Carolina Road.
If you are a bluegrass fan and in the Christmas spirit, this would be a nice album to play while the children are opening presents by the fireplace in any home, not just in the Smokies.
3½ stars (out of 5)
By Rick Saenz
I admire listeners who can navigate the subtleties of old-time music—the tunings, the geographical distinctions, the techniques—but I am not one of them. And so at first I was hesitant about reviewing this CD, a collection of 15 lesser-known old-time tunes (I only recognized three titles) with sources and tunings duly noted. But the unusual instrumentation (fiddle plus lap dulcimer/mandolin) intrigued me, the resulting sound drew me in, and the sensibilities of the players closed the deal.
Jason Cade is my kind of old-time fiddler, with a powerful rough tone, double stops everywhere, a love for the lower register, and a strong rhythmic pulse whether the tune is sprightly (“Far in the Mountain”) or more leisurely, as in his excellent solo take on “Highlander’s Farewell.” Cade embraces a broad view of his instrument, having fiddled for bluegrass/hip-hop group Gangstagrass and country music group the Weal and Woe. Rather than approaching the tunes here as museum pieces, he wrestles them to the ground and insists they yield their secrets. Sometimes they do.
Rob McMaken accompanies not on banjo but the less expected mandolin and (especially) lap dulcimer—well played, but the overall results are uneven. Often the fiddle overwhelms, and when the dulcimer takes a lead, energy drops quite a bit. The sound is richest when interplay is limited and the dulcimer/mandolin takes a support role—providing a lush droning bed for Cade to play atop, either doubling the melody for extra power or supplying parts of the melody so that Cade is free to go exploring.
The CD saves the best for last, so begin with the final cut, the driving “Hog-eyed Man.” The fiddle is the star here, but the mandolin is put to best possible use, sometimes doubling the fiddle work, sometimes adding a bed of chimes, sometimes dropping out altogether—making for One Big Instrument you’ve never heard before but will want to hear again. Then move on to the penultimate tune, “Winder Slide,” a stately march reminiscent of “Bonaparte’s Retreat”—the pace is slow enough that the dulcimer reinforces the rhythm, and the resulting rich blend is a sound that likely inspired this project in the first place.
I Can’t Wait
Red Beet Records
4½ Stars (out of 5)
Rather than complain about the lack of ‘country’ within current country music offerings, how about we do some work and go looking for music that will satisfy our desires?
One might certainly start with the likes of Ashley Monroe, Brandy Clark, Kasey Musgraves, and Holly Williams. Lee Ann Womack’s latest would be another fine place to visit. Craig Moreau and Doug Seegers recently released albums that would decidedly fall within most folks’ definition of country, and don’t forget Chuck Mead, Jim Lauderdale, Rodney Crowell: call ’em Americana if you like, but that’s country, too.
Which brings us to Fayssoux McLean, someone that many have heard but many more will not recognize. Back in the last century, Fayssoux Starling received vocal credit on early Emmylou Harris albums, ones that should be on most of our shelves: Pieces of the Sky, Quarter Moon in a Ten Cent Town, and Blue Kentucky Girl. While she counts Harris, Linda Ronstadt, and the aforementioned Crowell as admirers, Fayssoux (her albums are credited to her first name only) has released only a single album previously (2008’s Early,) one of the first to earn the Red Beet imprint.
I Can’t Wait is a pretty exquisite country music album. Again, call it Americana if it makes you feel better, but with its emphasis on instrumental support, vocal clarity, songs of quality, and clean production, this reminds me of the finest country music I’ve heard. I am well aware most country music isn’t acoustic (as this album is), and I’m also well aware that not all country music sounds like this, and thank goodness for that because we don’t need twenty identical albums released every month.
Fayssoux has a vocal approach that is assured, but measured; she isn’t out-belting the karaoke Patsy Clines and Miranda Lamberts. She sings with just enough passion and spirit to allow the song room to breathe. She sings, “You may rise, you may fall, that’s the way it rolls…it’s hell on the poor boy,” within RB Morris’ dark song (“Hell On A Poor Boy”), and you wonder how others have left this song unrecorded. Given a female voice, another layer of desperation is revealed within “Mama’s Hungry Eyes,” likely the most recorded song on the album, and there is no reason “When the Thought of You Catches Up With Me” shouldn’t be on every country playlist this autumn…well, beyond the obvious quality it represents.
Fayssoux contributes five originals to the set, each of which can unabashedly stand with the songs from Lauderdale, Kieran Kane (and Sean Locke and Claudia Scott), and Mose Allison not already referenced. The swinging “Ragged Old Heart” recalls a long-gone time (and has some beautiful fiddling from Justin Moses to boot,) while her co-write with album co-producer Peter Cooper, “Golightly Creek,” captures an entirely different mood within its reflections and remembrances.
A pair of songs Fayssoux co-wrote with Cooper and the album’s other co-producer Thomm Jutz are the shining jewels within an album of gems. “Running Out of Lies” (“I’m running into trouble ’cause I’m running out of lies”) is worthy of Harlan Howard, and the Civil War-themed “The Last Night of the War” softly conceals its intensity within its bouncy bluegrass-infused trappings.
With core instrumentation provided by Fayssoux (acoustic guitar), Jutz (more acoustic guitar), Brandon Turner (even more acoustic guitar), as well as Sierra Hull (mandolin, natch), Moses, and Mark Fain (bass), the album benefits from acute vision. Cooper and Donna Ulisse provide vocal harmony, as do Jutz and Turner, again lending to the cohesive qualities of the album’s production. The addition of the splendid “I Made A Friend of a Flower Today,” recycled from the Red Beet Tom T. Hall set of a couple years back, does nothing to upset this balance.
Do you like gentle country music? Appreciate superior lead and harmony vocals within country music? Crave the clean lines of acoustic music and the clarity fine songwriting affords a listener? I Can’t Wait, out last month, should provide the satisfaction such descriptions suggest.
Cahalen Morrison & Eli West
I’ll Swing My Hammer with Both My Hands
4 stars (out of 5)
By Donald Teplyske
Inspired equally by the spirit of the classic forebears of old-time music and later arriving artists who have continually refined the music as an important contemporary art, Cahalen Morrison and Eli West have now released three albums of modern minimalist musical lore, each exceeding that which came before it.
A taste of bluegrass, a dollop of folk, a sprinkling of modern stringband adventurousness, and a healthy measure of fresh approaches to old-timey songs, and you have the recipe to distinguish this duo within the multitudes creating modern folk-based, acoustic music.
Morrison and West are stalwarts of the Pacific Northwest music scene, and I’ll Swing My Hammer With Both My Hands finds them incorporating additional musicians within their fold. Most prominent perhaps are fiddlers Ryan Drickey and Brittany Haas who twin up and complement Morrison and West throughout. Working without liner notes, I’m unable to distinguish between who is playing bouzouki where—O’Brien, Morrison, and West each contribute on that instrument, while O’Brien and Morrison also play mandolin.
Morrison’s old-timey banjo playing is beautiful, especially on songs like “James is Out” and “Fiddlehead Fern,” while West’s guitar parts are equally impressive; “Ritzville”/”Steamboats On the Saskatchewan” is a veritable showcase for the ensemble, and West’s guitar on “Livin’ in America” is captivating.
Vocally, Morrison continues to take most of the leads—deep, gritty expressions of open spaces, challenged individuals, and sorrowful times. West’s vocal harmony is rich, an ideal foil to Morrison, who is vocally reminiscent of O’Brien. West also takes the lead on the exceptional “Pocket Full of Dust.”
The duo’s intrinsic vitality provides the album with a consistency in sound, firmly ingrained in their experiences. Grounded by the music of Norman Blake, Kelly Joe Phelps, and certainly producer Tim O’Brien as they are, one can also appreciate their wholly original approach to acoustic roots music. “The Natural Thing to Do” is a straight ahead ‘tear in my beer’ country shuffle, whereas the wordy “Anxious Rows” clips along at the pace of a fiddle contest burner, but with an emotional depth seldom encountered .
As with the previous Our Lady of the Tall Trees, the majority of the songs are Morrison originals but there are a few familiar songs included as well. The Louvin’s mournful “Lorene” is given a gorgeous treatment. Alice Gerrard’s melancholy “Voices of Evening” is appropriately aching, while “Green Pastures” raises the spirit.
With this stellar creation, Cahalen Morrison and Eli West are sure to continue to expand their listening base, and it shouldn’t be too long before they are widely appreciated by those who enjoy riveting, fresh expressions of old-time music.
By Larry Stephens
Bluegrass fans love a mystery, especially with some murder thrown into the plot. The title track of Poison Cove gives us a good dose of that. A young boy hides in the bushes and watches his father, a moonshiner, kill a revenue agent. That’s a secret he has to carry all his life. Some might call songs like this a celebration of violence but I don’t see it that way. This is a story of life disrupted, not a celebration. When the song kicks off I hear a resemblance to “Brown Mountain Light,” evidence that there are a finite number of notes and ways they can be pleasingly arranged, and sometimes songs will trigger memories of each other. “Yellow Jacket Mine,” an uptempo number about an 1869 disaster, is another one that triggers a musical memory, this time from an (unfortunately) obscure Tim Ryan CD.
Miller’s career has been that of a sideman and composer. IIIrd Tyme Out’s “Pretty Little Girl From Galax” is his composition. On his first solo release he’s penned (or co-composed) all the songs but one and proves himself as adept with words and melodies as he is with strings. On various cuts he plays guitar, mandolin and resonator guitar. He’s backed by familiar names like Shad Cobb (fiddle), Randy Kohrs (resonator guitar), Scott Vestal (banjo) and Ron Stewart (fiddle). Mark Winchester plays bass and wrote the one song Miller didn’t compose. “Swept Away,” like the title song, is going to be one of those songs I put in my favorites folder. It’s a lament, the story of a young girl swept away in a flood.
Swept away by muddy water
Damn the river, blame the rain
Swept away my only daughter
Left me here drowned in pain
The refrain ends on a minor chord and you can feel the pain in your heart. That’s good music: make you laugh, make you cry, then make you smile again.
This cut also underlines my only criticism. Miller sings lead with Buddy Melton singing tenor and Darren Nicholson (both members of Balsam Range) singing baritone. You can hear the harmony vocals, but barely, and on other tracks they are even harder to make out. I would have liked it better being able to clearly hear the harmonies along with some creative note shifting by the tenor. But this is a minor point on an otherwise great CD. I like what he gives us better than some recent top-name releases.
He starts off with some humor, a man who is going to make it to his notion of big one day because he’s “Savin’ Up For A Cadillac.” I like the sense of urgency and continuity he creates by the extended instrumental ending of “Cadillac” and the immediate jump into “A Little Bit Of You.” It would be fun to hear that on more CDs (and especially at more shows, where, to borrow a phrase, “a little less talk and a lot more action” would be appreciated).
He gives us some blues, a man who has the love of his life but takes her for granted until she leaves, and now she’s “Playing Hard To Forget.” His one gospel number, “Whose Name Do You Call,” illustrates the strength of creative arranging: every song doesn’t have to start with a banjo riff. And then there’s the Irish connection.
Some instrumentals that have been handed down through the old-time days have Irish connections, but you don’t hear many new vocal numbers that overtly mention an Irish theme. “The Saddest Man In County Clare” tells a tale repeated in all countries, a quiet tale of lost love, but set in Ireland with references to Dublin and County Clare. I asked Miller about this and he tells me, “My wife and I were spending the night in Ennis in late June 2010, and ended up listening to some tunes at a place called Patrick’s. Things were slow in town that evening, and only a few other people were in the pub. The young man in the next booth was sharing with a friend about a chance encounter earlier that day with his former love interest. Although he was trying to play it cool, it was apparent that he was still very much in love with this woman.” And that, folks, is one way to write a good song.
The other song is “Spike Island Blues.” “As we were looking out at the [Queenstown/Cobh] harbor one evening, a friend who lives there started telling me about Spike Island and the efforts that were underway to open the island for tours. He gave me an overview of the history of the prison, … . It seemed like great subject matter for a bluegrass song … During our last trip in October 2012 the prison was open … It was even more gruesome than the vision I had in my mind when putting the song together. It made Alcatraz look like a five star hotel.” History makes good bluegrass, too.
Good music from start to finish. This one’s worth every penny you’ll pay for it.
Eric Brace and Peter Cooper
The Comeback Album
Red Beet Records
4 stars (out of 5)
By Donald Teplyske
The fourth album from Nashville singer-songwriters Eric Brace and Peter Cooper may not be their best album (I continue to favor You Don’t Have to Like Them Both, their 2008 debut), and neither is it the strongest release of this calendar year. It will not change the course of music history, and it is not likely to be the subject of scholarly writing throughout the next decade.
It is a wonderful collection of music that has provided me with hours of enjoyment; I suspect it might do the same for others who appreciate thoughtful, melodic interpretations of country and roots music that owes as much to Tom T. Hall (the subject of their previous tribute album I Love) and Jerry Jeff Walker (who gets name-checked within the album’s lead track “Ancient History”) as it does the likes of Todd Snider and Kieran Kane.
I feel quite inadequate attempting to describe music executed within such an accomplished setting. The collective musicianship contained within The Comeback Album is staggering, continually engaging, and the composition of the songs—the ebbs and flows, the changes in tempo and mood, as often as not indicated by subtle shades of acoustic and electric guitar—sometimes attributed, as in the playing of Thomm Jutz on the lead track, elsewhere not- is profound.
Lloyd Green, Cooper’s collaborator on the earlier The Lloyd Green Album, plays pedal steel on every second song, and consistently does just enough to make each track stronger than it might have been without his efforts.
The album comes in at forty minutes, and during that time the duo examine or at least consider subjects both significant and light. From a Tennessee jail cell to the remnants of a life spent searching for ambition in a dead-end job and a never-ending bottle, and no few opportunities to examine matters of lust, love, and loss, Brace and Cooper write and perform songs that are as memorable and substantial as they are even-handed and self-aware.
Apparently unflappable, Brace and Cooper bring in the unlikely trio of Mac Wiseman, Duane Eddy, and Marty Stuart to perform one of Tom T. Hall’s earliest songwriting hits, “Mad.” Described by Phil Kaufman (related in the song notes) as ‘The Neverly Brothers,” Cooper and Brace are that unlikely duo of (seemingly) even-minded, focused individuals who are greater for their collaboration.
As they have in the past, Brace and Cooper share material written by others, in this case Karl Straub (again) and David Halley, whose “Rain Just Falls” closes the disc.
Never shying from self-deprecation, the pair are equally adept at self-evisceration, as on the needs-to-be-a-classic “She Can’t Be Herself.” Coloured in heartache by Green’s waves of blue steel, this Brace/Cooper composition should be accompanied by the number for the local mental health helpline. Brace’s “Kissing Booth” reminds me of John Wort Hannam, and I realize that reference means little outside of Alberta…but it shouldn’t, ’cause JWH is amazing: small town life and individual perspective magnified by shared experience and universal emotion. Beautiful stuff, if anguish inducing.
Eric Brace and Peter Cooper’s The Comeback Album is eminently appealing, and should keep listeners enthralled with clever phrasing, both lyrical and melodic, accomplished lead and harmony singing, and especially impressive instrumentation.