Rabbit Wilde (formerly Wild Rabbit) is a bluegrass band from the U.S. Pacific Northwest, but they’d be right at home in the swampy Southeast. On Southern Winters, an EP that’s a follow-up to their 2013 debut record The Wild North, the group runs through five songs of ramshackle sweetness that’s bound to please those two bunny ears on the sides of your head. The group has a sound that is distinctly traditional, but is entirely modern sounding – one that blends female and male harmonies into a contemporary stir. In fact, there’s not much that’s old timey about Southern Winters, except the fact that it is rooted in bluegrass. There are no traditional murder ballads or anything of that sort. In fact, Rabbit Wilde has an easy slouch of a sound. There’s plenty of nimble banjo picking, and a bluesy harmonica makes an appearance on final cut “My Heart Is a Wandering Vessel” to much eardrum appealing delight. In fact, if there was an adjective to describe Rabbit Wilde, it would be, well, “delightful”. As far as these things go, Rabbit Wilde has more of a pop take on bluegrass, rather than leaning heavily on the country side of the fence.
“Howl”, which starts the album off proper, actually uses what appears to be a cello running underneath the guitar stuttering before vocalist / guitarist Miranda Zickler’s singing kicks into full gear with a trill in her voice here and there. Delightful! (There I go again.) You’ll get tangled up in this song. “Sailor and Siren” is another song that lurches ahead at full speed, bringing mandolins and banjos into the fore, with soulful male vocals that actually have me reaching for Frankie Valli. Strings come cascading in, and then we get those sweet pipes of Zickler’s. Delightful! (Groan.) “The Road”, meanwhile, is more of a haunting piece at the start with a squeezebox providing some gravitas, but not too haunting as this is a full pop rave up. “The Road” might be the EP’s most overt nod to Mumford and Sons – the barometer of all roots acts these days – but that just goes to show how pop this short album is. “Winters” is more of a slow, melancholic piece with that swoonful cello sawing its way into the jangle mandolin work. While the midsection might be more downbeat, the happiness returns with “My Heart Is a Wandering Vessel”, a rootsy major key song that wouldn’t be out of place on the Signature Sounds roster. Delightful! (Can I stop now?) Now, a full-length is expected to drop next year, but this EP is a fine statement on its own as a stop-gap release. For those who are about to folk pop, we salute Rabbit Wilde because they’ve delivered a pretty good statement of that kind of trendy sound with Southern Winters. It’s absolutely … well, you should know by now what it is. Starts with a d, if you need the hint.
Old Man Luedecke is not an old man, but his latest release, Domestic Eccentric, sees him growing up in many ways. While Luedecke retains his brand of quirky humour (this is a guy who once wrote a song about jonesing for A & W hamburgers late at night and, to wit, there’s a song titled “Yodelady” here – think about it), Domestic Eccentric is part of a musical maturation process. The album appears to be something of a concept album about meeting a fine lass, starting a family with her, and watching your toddlers grow into children. There’s a linear arc to the record, and that gives it a heft and gravitas, and makes it seemingly an artwork. It’s perhaps not odd that Luedecke would create something like that, given that his last full-length disc, Tender Is the Night (2012), basically namechecked everything from God to F. Scott Fitzgerald. (And, again, to wit, there’s a song on the new one titled “The Girl in the Pearl Earring”, which is a nod to Vermeer, who, too, gets a callout.) So Luedecke is a man who references other art in his art, which makes him a little different than many Americana-ish outfits, who are seemingly not as content to reference things they’ve read or seen in a gallery somewhere. However, Luedecke, if you know him, is a guy who can also go for the lowbrow: “Yodelady”? Well, it may bring to mind Slim Whitman.
There’s something else, though, that may come to mind when you hear Domestic Eccentric. More and more, Luedecke’s vocals are closely resembling that of Tom Petty’s, so if you always had a hankering to know what Petty would sound like if he took more of a bluegrass bent, well, here you go. Still, for all of the rockist overtures, Luedecke is firmly steeped in folk and bluegrass tradition, but he also isn’t afraid to stretch out beyond those boundaries: “Wait a While” has a grimy blues feel to it, and it feels two Scotches away from Tom Waits. Still, traditionalist will find much to rejoice here – Luedecke sings of people moving to the cities, but he went the other way and stayed in the rural backwoods. (Precisely, Mahone Bay in Nova Scotia, which isn’t too far away from a town steeped in time, Lunenburg.) As such, Luedecke is interested in intimacy. The LP was recorded in a cabin along with Grammy-winner Tim O’Brien. However, despite the presence of O’Brien, Domestic Eccentric is the type of album that seems suited for Luedecke’s solo live shows. The instrumentation is sparse – there is hardly any percussion to be found – and, often, it just feels like Luedecke and a banjo (or mandolin) with hardly any fussing or prettying up of the sound. To that end, Domestic Eccentric is an album that feels as though Luedecke is right there with you in your home.
More after this photo of the Old Man himself.
And, of course, the record is full of character sketches and narratives. You could literally grab just about any lyric from this album and it would paint a vivid picture. One song that stuck with me has Luedecke telling a tale of a supermarket parking lot, where there are toddlers in strollers eating Goldfishes, and wanting more. It is as though Luedecke has taken images and snippets of his own home life and blown them up into paintings that are vivid and imaginative – a feat, considering that this album is also about the plainness of such a life. “Now We Got a Kitchen” is, for instance, just about that: the wonder and amazement that you now have a house with a full kitchen, something that you thought you might not thought you’d ever have when you were younger. So, Domestic Eccentric definitely trades the late night partying of his previous album for the comforts that can only be found in an issue of Martha Stewart Living. Thus, you could say that Luedecke has reached middle-age in his songwriting, and seems happy and content to be a father figure, with “The Early Days” gradually receding into the rear view. And the album ends on “Happily Ever After”, which Luedecke muses is “not the easy part.” “It feels like you never wanted me around,” are the words that close the disc. Domestic Eccentric is a record that acknowledges that, while home life may be preferable, it still requires a lot of work and muscle. This is about as honest an album as it comes, and it works due to Luedecke’s plainspoken way with words.
All in all, Domestic Eccentric is a highly engaging and likable album and – though I haven’t trolled my way through the entire Luedecke catalogue – it may be his most varnished and humble record. It feels, even when it gets a little tongue in cheek as it does on “Real Wet Wood” and “Yodelady”, purely serious and touching. It really feels as though the artist has grown in small leaps and bounds since Tender Is the Night, and is more solidly focusing on the ordinary. In that way, Domestic Eccentric feels all the more easily to relate to, without sacrificing the awe and wonder of finally settling down and working your way through your middle years, hardships or not. I would go so far to say that Domestic Eccentric matches some of those works of art and literature that Luedecke was wont to tuck into his lyrics. Tenderness and humor abound in equal measure, and, while some may find Luedecke’s eccentricities to be strange, there’s something about Luedecke’s take on Americana, just done in a Canadian way, that’s wonderfully enjoyable. To listen to this album, you would never know that Luedecke necessarily plays folk festivals, because he seems so steeped in the comforts of home, and making the most out of whatever troubled waters on the domestic front may come his way. Domestic Eccentric is solid, and shows a remarkable upward curve in Luedecke’s songwriting. It seems as though the artist is gradually growing into the Old Man of his name, and he has never sounded as confident and wise as he ultimately does here. Luedecke is aging gracefully, and, in the end, it is the listener who reaps the rewards.
Rating: 8 outta 10
Album: Domestic Eccentric
Artist: Old Man Luedecke
Label: True North
Release Date: 2015-07-24
Adam Hill of Squamish, British Columbia, has been around for four albums now, but his latest, Old Paint is a unique take on an old formula: the covers album. He took 12 songs, some of which you may have heard on an old Folkways album, and gave them a once over with new arrangements and, in some cases, new lyrics. It’s an intriguing concept, and works for those who have a predisposition towards folk music. It’s sort of ironic in the sense that Hill wrote into me about this release and said, “It might not be your cup of tea.” Truthfully, I go through phases when it comes to anything remotely Americana-ish, and I think I’m in a phase where I’m more rock-ish than anything acoustic right now. However, that isn’t meant to dismiss the concept or the album’s musicianship. There’s some interesting things going on with Old Paint, whether it be the use of nickels and dimes as a percussion track on “Bentonville Blues” or Hill’s banging away on a guitar turned dulcimer with chopsticks on “Three Hundred Miles”.
I suppose what works against the album as a whole is the familiarity of some of the material. I think this is the third cover of “All the Pretty Horses” I’ve heard in the past year or so, and this version doesn’t really add anything new to the canon and, let’s face it, you have a heckuva challenge ahead of you covering that song when Calexico have released a take that is, in my view, the defacto standard to which all covers of the tune stand up against or fall down against. Still, Hill’s musicianship is unparalleled even if his voice is a little boyish and not haggard, which is a slight knock. Essentially, this is an album that is for fans of folk and bluegrass that have a passing familiarity with the material and want to know how it would sound like in the hands of a revisionist musician. To that end, this might be more “try before you buy”, particularly if folk or roots music is not your genre of choice either right now or over the long haul. Still, you cannot deny that the concept itself is worth buying into, and when it comes down to brass tacks, Old Paint is bookish – the one-sheet that accompanies the review copies even has footnotes – and if you’re interested in music as literature and music that updates tradition, then this might be a record just for you.
Rating: 6 outta 10
Album: Old Paint
Artist: Adam Hill
Label: Self-released
Release Date: 2015-06-05
Album: Sit Down! Get Up! Get Out!
Artist: Barnstar!
Label: Signature Sounds
US Release Date: 2015-02-03
UK Release Date: 2015-02-16 (Import)
Anyone who has been following Massachusetts-based roots rock label Signature Sounds know one thing: bands on the roster love the covers album/EP. Everyone from Lake Street Dive to Miss Tess has cut a covers record, and this trend continues with Barnstar! Sort of. The group, on its 2011 release C’mon!, covered everyone from Neil Young to the Travelling Wilburys, and here, on Sit Down! Get Up! Get Out!, the group tosses in the odd original while choosing to focus on a wealth of covers from the likes of Cat Stevens to the Faces to the Hold Steady. If that sounds like quite a diverse swath of artists to give the covers treatment to, well, you wouldn’t be wrong. That it generally holds up well serves as the primo reinforcement that Barnstar! – essentially a group comprised of session musicians for other musicians – is a worthy group all on its own. Now, part of the success of this record has to do with the fact that, on a personal note, I’d only heard one of these covers in their original incarnation, and that would be the Faces’ “Stay With Me”, which closes the album. Given that I think I know more about music than the average Joe – though I do have my gaps (I’ve stayed pretty far away from the Hold Steady simply because I can’t stand the singer’s voice on the cuts I’ve heard) – so it’s neat to see a band not making the obvious choices, which says something about their ears for music if not daring.
In fact, if you didn’t know this was a mostly covers record, you’d be mistaken for thinking these songs were Barnstar! originals. That’s how they transcend their original versions, as, here, they’re given the folk-bluegrass O Brother treatment. And things have a tendency to work, with the odd exception. The wry humor of the Hold Steady’s “Sequestered in Memphis” doesn’t really work well on the same record as an ode to death in “Six Foot Pine Box”, no matter the fact this record really covers the range of the human experience. Still, if you were to tune out the lyrics, and focus pretty squarely on the music, you’d have a pretty bang-up album. It’s evident that these guys are more than able-bodied hands for others because they do work very well together, and you can hear something between the grooves: these guys are clearly having a whale of a time. That must be a hallmark of the folk-rock sound, for most bands of this ilk seem to have carefree attitudes, and, in that regard, Barnstar! is no different. This is simply a record to enjoy whenever you’re going through a difficult spot, maybe skipping over opening cut “Six Foot Pine Box”, because the disc is so charismatic and upbeat.
More after this photograph (love the handlebar mustache):
Essentially, if I were to call Sit Down! Get Up! Get Out! anything, it is a patchwork quilt of Americana. For what it is, it’s pretty good – which isn’t surprising as this is out on Signature Sounds, and I don’t think I’ve heard anything less than a merely “good” album out of them (they’re not known for putting out terrible records or even mediocre ones). You’re not going to come to this record and expect to have to write some kind of thesis dissertation to gain entry into an exclusive club or anything along those lines. No siree. You’re just going to get a grand ol’ time here. If anything, the album moves from the morbid to the buoyant and bubbly, ending on a particularly energetic and nimble version of “Stay With Me” that retains that number’s mid-to-high tempo pace. All in all, there’s nothing really truly terrible, but does it feel like an album? Not really. I think, if anything, this record needs a few more originals or be all covers in order to have some kind of underlying thread. It’s really as though these guys simply threw a bunch of songs in the air and said, “Let’s record these.” So Sit Down! Get Up! Get Out! is an emotional experience more than anything. You have to almost turn your brain off for this. That aspect might work better in a live setting, maybe. Still, that said, this is pretty delightful.
Conclusively, it all comes down to whether or not you want to hear classic and indie rock songs (among other things) done up in an old timey style. If you do, great. Here’s an album for you. If you’re on the fence, maybe try to listen to this first and decide if it’s for you. If you would prefer a band really go out and do their own thing more often, well … this one would be a pass, but even then I would encourage the skeptical or jaded to give this one a poke and see if there’s a song or two in this style that turns your fancy. Where Sit Down! Get Up! Get Out! fits into a discography is not within the band’s own, or even the albums these members may have cut with others. No, this is a record that firmly is a commitment to Signature Sounds’ ability to be reverential. While the label name would imply originality being something of a character trait, in truth, the label seems to love it when its bands take on versions of other people’s songs, because, in a sense, it furthers the narrative of the label to be more broad reaching and inclusive. So, to me, it comes as no surprise that Barnstar! has chosen to record mostly covers – it suits the label very well. At the end of the day, Sit Down! Get Up! Get Out! firmly belongs more to Signature Sounds than any entity, and is another record you can add to the pile of EPs the label has put out by other bands that honor other bands. That’s where it fits. And it’s a pretty good addition to what is gradually becoming one of the storied labels for roots and Americana music in America. They should be glad to have Barnstar! These guys forward the narrative well.
Album: Take It Like a Man
Artist: Jim White Vs. The Packway Handle Band
Label: Yep Roc
US Release Date: 2015-01-27
UK Release Date: 2015-01-26
LP Release Date: 2015-01-13
This disc from Jim White and the Packway Handle Band is a very special album. At least, for me personally. You know, there are times in your life when you get an album that seems to speak directly to you. This is one of those albums. Anyone who has been following this blog when I’m in personal mode, and before I feel that I have to delete everything personal not to leave a negative lasting impression about me, either from ordinary readers and music lovers or potential employers, knows that 2014 was not a good year for me, financially or otherwise. And 2015 seems to be bringing its share of grief, too. At this point, I’m looking forward to the Chinese New Year (isn’t it in February?), as that might be when my fortunes finally turn around and I land a decent job that I like and turn the boat around. But that’s beside the point. The point is, when you get a record that’s concerned with the downtrodden as this one is, and you’re exactly in that kind of situation – being on the losing end of the stick – you cannot help but feel that the record was made especially for you. Consider the opening lyrics of the first song, “Smack Dab in a Big Tornado”. (An aside, I knew I’d like this record right away as I always wanted to stormchase – that’s on my bucket list. Which is another way of saying, yep, this LP speaks to me personally.) They go, “He lost his job / After 18 years / When a big tornado / Carried him away / For so long, he was smack dab in a big … big ol’ tornado.” Who can’t relate to that if you’re in a precarious situation?
Before we go any further, you might be wondering why I’ve dubbed this album “Welfare Music” up above. Well, aside from the lyrical themes of those facing hardships, that’s also the name of a song by the Bottle Rockets. And if you know the Bottle Rockets, you’ll know they’re an alt-country act of some renown. Well, ergo Jim White and his cohorts in the Packway Handle Band. This is sterling Americana, as far as genre goes. The backstory is basically that Jim White is kind of a country-folk rocker, and the Packway Handle Band is more of a bluegrassy band. Both acts are based in Athens, Georgia, and, as things naturally went, the paths of both acts crossed and one thing led to another, and, basically, White sort of “joined” the Packway Handle Band to make an album – this very one we’re concerned with here. And, basically, they’ve made the Great Great Recession Album. Second song, “Breathing Room” wonders “Why such a long time / For such a shortfall?” and “I’m not looking for a handout / I’m just asking for a little breathing room.” Amen, brothers. You’ve just effectively summed up what it feels like to be unemployed, but want to be a contributing, functioning member of society. I mean, really, kudos. These guys nail it on the head. And what’s particularly neat is the use of a trombone toward the end, making the song swing away from country and into Dixieland.
More after this picture … .
You could probably go on and quote the entire album (“This is not a song / This is a cry for help”) and realize just how profound and on the mark the entire thing is. However, what makes this an interesting record, and a bit of a counterpoint, is that the music is happy. Depressing lyrical themes, joyous music that makes a racket. This is practically the Americana equivalent of a Smiths album. “Not a Song” is a roof raiser, complete with brass and handclaps. “Jim 3:16” is a nimble little banjo ballad. “Sinner!” is an old timey gospel number. “Blood on the Fiddle, Blood on the Bow” is, of course, a fast and quick fiddle tune. There’s variety to spare on this album, and none of it grows old on repeat. The juxtaposition between the joyous and the helpless is both an asset and a liability – while these guys are out to largely show you a good time, given the gravity of today’s economic situation sometimes calls for a little moment of pause, and less wink-wink as on display here. Still, that’s just quibbling, and truthfully “Sorrow Shine” is something of a serious moment, so I may be just quibbling too much. This is simply what they call entertainment, and it’s wrapped up in a nice bow. I don’t think there’s a complete misfire on the entire record, though, truth be told, I probably have my favourite songs and my not so favourite songs. Still, the album works as an album. There’s something of an arc.
In the end, you may call me biased. Since I’m facing tough times, it would only be natural to enjoy an album that said something about the state that I’m currently in, as this platter does. That may be true. However, if anything White and Packway do and do well is make that suffering less sufferable, which might be another way of putting it as this is an album that addresses one’s troubles, and then does something to mitigate those troubles. That says a lot. Basically, each and every one of us goes through valleys, and sometimes you need a real pick-me-up as this album is. So, long story short, this is a record about the honest human experience, and it’s pretty nearly brilliant. As a reviewer, you get albums sent to you digitally, usually, and it’s always a crapshoot whenever you open up that file download as to whether it’s going to be something surprising, enjoyable and exhilarating. Well, having known absolutely nothing about White or the Packway fellas, this album is all three of those things. I’m really hopeful that they make this pairing permanent because it seems as though they have something important to say and they just make beautiful music together. Take It Like a Man is about as life affirming as it gets. For that, I’m grateful. This is a record that just happened to come along at the precise right point in my life when I needed it, and I couldn’t be more overjoyed to hear this. If there’s any doubt as to what record you should spend your welfare check on, let there be none. This is it. This is the album. This is about as perfect an encapsulation of what it means to be poor in 2015 that we’re probably going to get. And maybe that says something beyond the realm of personal experience.
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