by Tom Hallett

QUOTE OF THE WEEK: “The bad news is that I drove the van right off the road, she’s half-buried in a swamp, and a State Trooper saw it all happen. The good news is that not one beer bottle broke in the crash.” – Jake Wisti

SONG OF THE WEEK: “Knock ‘Em Back” – Paul Westerberg

Hallett’s Top Five Birthday Drinkin’ Songs For July, 2006:

1) “I’m Drinking Again”—Jeff Beck. Yeah, sure, scroddy Rod Stewart croaks an’ cracks his way through this pitifully short, pre-Faces B-side, but that slightly unsure, wobbly vocal contribution only serves to drive home the straight-ahead, no-bullshit electric groove ol’ Beck is wringing from his axe like it’s the absolute last drop of whiskey he’ll get down his throat for the next 100 miles. Or at least until he starts a needless verbal battle with The Scrod so he can lovingly stash his six-string weapon and slide under one of those ubiquitous, collectible hot rods he actually prefers spending time with. Either way, this one makes me wanna count out my pennies, stagger to my nearest package shop, an’ load up on a 30-Pack of Old Milwaukee. Tasty, warm and unpretentious.

2) “Loaded And Lonely”—The Midnight Evils. What’s up with these semi-local Twin Cities guys, anyway? One minute they’re alcohol-fueled local rock demons, the next they’re signing record deals with hoity-toity Brit labels, then they’re back to gleefully rending innocent eardrums bloody and ringing right here in the big city. Frankly, when I crank up their album Straight Til Morning, I honest to God wish they were sitting right here in my office, offering me a snort off of their bottle and asking if I mind that they’re turning the volume knob up to “11.” Fuck no, I don’t mind, lads—CRANK IT UP!!

3) “Long-Distance Drunk” —Modest Mouse. When these eclectic, electronic-based mod thrill-seekers bust out a jam, you can bet you’ll be hearing a different groove each time. Whether it’s the ska-tinged musical bungee-jump of “Lounge (Closing Time),” the punky, thrashing yowl of “Shit Luck,” or the lean, staggering flow of my pick, Modest Mouse has an amazing (and thrilling) ability to pull out the ol’ karma chameleon at the drop of a hat (or the flick of a tongue ...), and THAT, my friends, is why they’re one of the most interesting, inspiring and challenging bands around these days. Besides, “Long Distance Drunk” reminds me of all the great (for me, anyhow) years of late-night, long-distance drunk phone calls I’ve made in the past. Steve Birmingham, I’m sorry. Ralph, Danny, Jamie, Mark and Patti-Cakes—I’m sorry. But not really. Heh. Heh. What the hell—I’ll say I am, over and over, because that’s about all ya can do when ya make scarcely remembered, long-distance DRUNKEN phone calls ...

4) “Salt Of The Earth”—The Rolling Stones (from Rock And Roll Circus). Naw, the Stones were never really known as a big-time drunkard outfit (Opiates, hash and sweet sister cocaine were much more popular, save for Keith’s legendary whiskey intake), but they hit the nail right on the head with this ode to the stressed out, liquored-up, late-night pub crowd who lined their pockets over the years feeding quarters to many a jukebox and hoisting a cold one to this refrain: “Let’s drink to the hard-working people ... raise your glass to the good and the evil / Let’s drink to the salt of the earth / Say a prayer for the common foot soldier / Spare a thought for his backbreaking work / Spare a thought for his wife and his children / Who burn the fires and still till the earth ...” Spine-tingling.

5) “Whiskey Glass Eye” —Slobberbone. From their album Crow Pot Pie, this story-song ebbs and flows in all the right, liquified spots, and easily sucks your all-too-willing soul along down the river of whiskey it feeds. Yeah, it’s got a vaguely country-rock/roots/ Whatever-the-fuck-they-call-REAL-music these days vibe, but I swear Brent Best sounds like a bona fide, hell-bent backwoods rapper who could carry off a career under the moniker Lil’ Bubba and nobody would probably be the wiser. My favorite line: “It don’t look like you’re gonna ever free yourself from drinkin’, smokin’, fightin’, cryin’ an’ sinnin’ / But, I know what you’re feelin’ / I know what you’re thinkin’ ... you’re lookin’ with your whiskey glass eye ...” Almost as cool and refreshing as a Texas-size shot of ice-kissed Chivas Regal on a fiery July afternoon. Matter of fact, ah reckon ah’ll pour myself a tall, cold one while I share this tasty nugget o’ new(er) music with ya’ll. Bottoms up! And now on to our regularly scheduled music review section ...

John Swardson
Ablaze
2006
Self-Released

Local man-about-town John Swardson has crafted a gorgeous, soul-soothing batch of back-parlor pickin’, dark, devil-may-care ditties, and high lonesome, love-lost-to-the-trail-tales on his latest release, Ablaze. Kicking off with the dreamy, string-augmented drift-along “Faster,” he and his mighty backing band immediately establish their style and clearly revel in the abandoned gusto with which they present it.

The title cut, “Ablaze,” leaps, snaps and moans its way along heartbreak ridge with a loping backbeat and Swardson’s casual, shrug-and-a-grin vocal delivery. The lyrics are intelligent yet universal, the band rides along like a loyal, burro-bound deputy, and one can almost smell the “cold wind” that John recalls here. Dribbles of Eddie Vedder’s laconic delivery, shooters of Gram Parsons’ ancient soul-wisdom, and the genius-laden, inebriated schoolroom randiness of Robert (Guided By Voices) Pollard all drift through this devastated devil’s dance like some rocked-up musical Doppelganger of Leone’s “Man With No Name.” Catchy, memorable and thought provoking, this breath-taking campfire reminiscence sets the pace for the tales to come.

“Gracefully” skitters and bounces its way into your psyche, Swardson pleading with his ex-love’s latest flame to treat her kind, don’t mess with her mind, when she sees the darker side of him ... OK, it’s got a driblet of Neil floating across the surface (but then again, one of my favorite local multi-instrumentalists, Dave Boquist, contributes to this one, and his playing—solo or with Farrar & Son Volt—has always evoked a flash of Young-ian brilliance in my booze-soaked brain), but then those weeping, battle-scarred guitar licks take over and the tune veers off the beaten path and onto a one-lane wagon rut that only Swardson and co. will be capable of helping you wend your way through. Tight, to-the-point and surprisingly brittle—do it like it’s 19- or even 1870, yessir ...

“1989” is a jumpy, Fogerty-meets-Reckless Eric-in-a-portside-rum-locker-inspired slice of cut-throat bayou boogie. This is the kind of rocka-rolla number that evokes the dim days of the Empty Eighties, with Swardson focusing on that “One” relationship that defined the era for him and a bevy of his peers, yet also manages to update us with just the right sprinkling of modern-day references and in-the-moment technology. “She says she knows a few things for sure / That she works too late for her / And her cool midnight breeze / Is the closest she’ll get to Paris ... sometimes I dream that you’re still my girl ...” Swirling, Cars-meet-Roxy-Music-in-Hazelden keyboard riffs, triumphant, pop-a-riffic axe work, and genuinely wistful pleas like: “In all my travels I can see / I still think about it ... walking hand in hand...” bolster that supposition. Romantic, doomed and deliciously dark...I’m bettin’ it’d go down just as smoothly with a Mickey’s Big Mouth and a spin around a frozen lake in a battered 1979 Gremlin as it would in a cool, canopy-covered gazebo down South Georgia way, too. Ahhh—remember Mickey’s Big Mouths? Back when them little green barrels had trippy little puzzles under the caps for us semi-literate drunks to enjoy, cops were few an’ far between, and Guns N’ Roses triumphantly shared radio air-space with Social Distortion, Green Jelly and Queensryche ... man, this is the first time I’ve missed 1989 since ummm ... ever!

“Tracks,” a duet between John and Rachel Swardson, rings out clear, true and vibrant. Rachel’s delicate, emotion-wracked vocals make for a perfect balance with John’s darker, more dire delivery, and the lonely trailer vibe snaking its way through this heartbreaking ballad stands as a fo’ sho, down-right awesome showcase for their meant-to-be vocal melding. “Beautiful Day” finds the band crankin’ out a mixture of Blue Mountain/The Possibilities-style roots-pop, Swardson blasting out urgent guitar riffs, back-up singer Billy Bisson adding extra, burning brimstone to the mix.

“Vegas” eases in like a professional dice-man slippin’ into a swank, late-night casino. Over softly strummed acoustic guitar, Swardson recounts falling in love and willingly slippin’ over the edge in Sin City. I see Gram Parsons pushing a shopping cart with one bad wheel through a cheesy Strip liquor store à la Nick Cage in “Leaving Las Vegas,” but this time he’s got a ratty St. Paul Music Club sweatshirt, knee-ripped blue jeans, and Mike Leonard’s funky tennis shoes on. OH, and for some reason, in my John Swardson daydream, the hooker who gives her all to save him from his rampant alcoholism resembles sharp-tongued comedienne Sarah Silverman. Hmmm ... I wonder how much a one-way ticket from Anchorage, Alaska, to Las Vegas is this time o’ year?

Album closer “High Above The Earth” rings out soft, true and soulful, Swardson’s honest, comforting pipes proudly shining through the pain and loss that fairly drips from this cut. Sure, it’s simple, sure, it’s mellow, and yeah, it’s mildly derivative of a hundred other “lost classic” indie rockers, but ya know what? When John half-weeps, half-chokes the line, “Say you’re a star / Say you’re hungriest / Wasted fallin’ off your chair / Say you’re a star, say you’re hungriest / Hangin’ into space, high above the Earth ... shadow length thins, sun it slowly sets ... say Oh God, why should you care ...” I recognize those heartfelt, lonesome, hope-against-hope threads weaving their way through my own heart, and I bet you will, too. This album’s title may suggest a roaring, red-hot, rambunctious batch of fiery rock and roll, but the very fact that it’s able to accomplish all of the above with such fortitude, drive and understated volcanic activity proves that it, and the über-talented crew behind the scenes, are definitely lit up, about to blow, and ready to leave the listener hot, happy and undeniably ablaze. Fire in the hole!!

A sublime, understated, well-thought out batch of local music chock full of memorable lines and musical phrases that will surely find its way to the right audience over time. Just remember ya read it here first, ya funky monkeys. You can check out John (and his CDs for sale, band info and upcoming gigs) at myspace.com/johnswardson or give him a holler at his own e-mail addy, swardsonjohn@gmail.com.

One final note this week—big thanks and much love to my official ’Round The Dial photographer, Patti Felch. Your on-the-money images of Alaska and my own wobbling adventures therein are mightily appreciated—thanks, Angel Eyes!!

If you have local music news (From Minneapolis/St. Paul-Anchorage and beyond Alaska, local means wherever I’ve got my sticky little fingers in a musical pie, so bring it on!), events or CDs you’d like to see mentioned in this column, or you’d just like a free copy of Hallett’s “Songs For Peace” album for your very own, send replies to: Tmygunn77764@yahoo.com ||