Thursday, January 9, 2014


Eaglesmith has landed again, delivering as always a solid collection of thoughtful stories, rich in detail and full of groove.  There's mystery shot through this one, from the vintage studio echo sound to snapshots of hurt characters in the tracks.  The touchstone is the sound of 1966, garage band arrangements right down to the Farfisa and organ tones from producer Scott Merritt.  Guitars twang, there's hand clap percussion, sharp drums snap out.  Above it all sings the weary and road-tested troubadour, writing for all the folks in all the small halls he packs day in and day out on his constant travels.

Like Rick Danko, Eaglesmith sings with a voice soaked in sadness, rough and beautiful.  The words are simple, but the stories complex and truthful, like Engineer, where he sings about the love who left him: "Somebody ought to tell that paper boy throwing it up against my door, I sure could use some news/It's been too many years, I've cried too many tears, I've paid too many dues."  But he has fun too, like on Can't Dance, admonishing security for trying to stop kids in the crowd from enjoying the show.  Whether he's singing about himself, or any of the thousands of unsung heroes of rock and roll, from the 60's to now, Eaglesmith gets the magic of the moment, and why his fans really get it, too:  "I love my electric guitar, I love it when I play it way to loud/I ain't ever gonna be a star, but I sure do know how to please a crowd."  From the dreamy waltz of Drunk Girl to the Tex-Mex honk of Train Wreck, Eaglesmith taps into the best sounds around.

No comments:

Post a Comment