SONG OF THE WEEK: “Joe’s Head” — Kings of Leon

CD REVIEWS

Sarah Lee Guthrie & Johnny Irion
Exploration
(New West Records, 2005)

Exploration, the debut album by Sarah Lee Guthrie (yes, she’s the granddaughter of Woody and the daughter of Arlo) and Johnny Lee Irion (pronounced eye-ree-on) is what you’d call in the biz “a ringer.” In other words, the musical pedigree of the performer(s), the cast of supporting players (in this case, Jayhawks members Gary Louris and Marc Perlman, pedal steel whiz Eric Heywood, Son Volt alum Dave Boquist, Tift Merritt drummer Zeke Hutchins, and Pete Seeger’s grandson, Tao Rodriguez Seeger), the producers (Louris and Ed Ackerson), the mixers (Tom Rothrock of Beck and Elliot Smith fame), and, of course, the appropriately hip label (New West, home to Twin/Tone Records co-founder Peter Jesperson and a brilliant stable of artists ranging from Slobberbone to Billy Joe Shaver) should, by all rights, guarantee an insta-classic, loved by the masses and lauded by the critics.

Sometimes, a combo like this seems like the best idea in the world to those involved; a grand, karmic collaboration that just had to be preordained by the gods of rock. And sometimes, despite all of the necessary ingredients and the best of intentions, the whole thing ends up as an expensive, time-consuming, polished turd—to wit: Lisa Marie Presley’s debut album, anything by Julian Lennon and (sorry, gang) even a few of ol’ Arlo’s records over the years.

Thankfully, that’s not the case with this release. Every star is in alignment; the songs are instantly memorable, heart-stirring and timeless; the voices, instruments and production are fine tuned and tight without bearing the burden of overproduction; and the vibes are all undeniably, unquestioningly, unflinchingly RIGHT. Sarah Lee and Johnny (life partners with a young child—a great foundation for sympatico songwriting if there ever was one), who wrote every song on the record save a reworked cover of Pete Seeger’s “Dr. King,” have an inherent knack for pinpointing the most elusive and fragile of human emotions and weaving them into short aural portraits of authentic, universal life experiences. And those voices! They’re unique, yet warmly familiar, once recalling a George Jones/Tammy Wynette duet, next a Gram/Emmlou slink-a-thon, then a Gary Louris/Karen Grotberg honeyfest. Sublime.

Playing out like a perfectly-stocked pool-hall jukebox in a country/rock roadhouse somewhere deep in the Delta, Exploration rides a classic, rootsy groove through 12 cohesive, yet gleefully disparate tracks. Album opener “In Lieu Of Flowers” tells the tale of a woe-begotten lover who courts a potential mate with a simple, heartfelt song instead of the traditional practices. You’re immediately drawn in by the tune’s deceptively simple notes, and then those voices blend and you’re in the story with them—on a dew-soaked late-night lawn, heart pounding, crooning under a darkened bedroom window.

“Cease Fire” starts out as a foxy, slow-burning invitation from one partner to another to “... open up the wine, honey, let it breathe/Pour yourself a glass and ease on back with me/It’s a Friday night and we’re all alone ...” But then, out of the blue, this breathy, slightly horny exhortation to quit bickering and forget the outside world suddenly and subtly slips into a wonderfully lazy, rollicking train song: “... Cease fire/The whistle’s blowin’ baby... freight train whistle taught me how to cry ...” This is a great example of the massive songwriting talent here- and the fact that this is only the pair’s first album thrills me to no end. I want YEARS of this stuff!!

“Holdin’ Back,” the album’s most obvious single (although in the right “market” every song on here is strong enough to be released as a single somewhere in the world), is a melancholy, insanely catchy, up-tempo ballad, written and sung by Sarah Lee. It’s indescribably tasty—leaving the listener with permanent goose flesh and a wobbly belly, and that’s such a rarity these days I almost don’t want to play this song too much. It’s too special to burn out. The title track, penned by Johnny, opens with with sad piano and those brilliantly blended voice-boxes, the song’s protagonist reverently intoning a desire to just chuck it all and head for the cosmos: “As I look up at the stars/Exploration on Mars/There’s a lotta left here to do/People askin’ us for change/People sleepin’ in the streets/Politicians still don’t have a clue/Lookin’ out my door/At the downtrodden that’s for sure/But they ain’t in their neck of the woods ...,” then busts into a soaring, glorious country-space-jam: “... it’s gonna be a nice vacation for us ...”

Sometimes, it’s just one line in a song that morphs it—at least in your own music fan soul—from a regular, by-the-note country waltz (“It’s just another day/Tryin’ to get back to you ...”) into a classic ballad you’ll cherish forever. Such is the case with “Kindness.” The song sort of washed over me (in a nice, comfy way) at first, until I kenned the line: “... like a raspberry seed in my wisdom tooth/I sometimes wish I’d never met you/But it’s all the same, when you’re tryin’ to get back to blue ...” Brilliant! I bet there’s more than a few flailing folks in faux Nashville who wish they’d written this song; or any of the nuggets inhabiting Exploration, for that matter.

The album’s centerpiece, Johnny’s adaptation of Pete Seeger’s “Dr. King,” is a half-spooky, all-inspirational call to spiritual arms, augmented by shiver-inducing fiddle shrieks (courtesy of either Dave Boquist or one of the Ungars), perfect harmonies and barrel-house piano. It’s the real deal, folks, and by all rights should be on the air right now, tucked between Steve Earle’s “The Revolution Starts Now,” The Creekdippers’ “Portrait Of A Sick America,” and Woody’s “This Land Is Our Land.” “Mornin’s Over” is a soft, come-hither Sarah song, evoking images of a dusty, dying love and the promise of a lonely life to come.

But where, you ask, do you really begin to feel the Gary Louris/Jayhawks influence on this album? Well, frankly, every good thing about this record I’ve described positively permeates EVERY Jayhawks album, if’n you ask me, but that’s just one man’s opinion. A sign of a great producer—especially one who’s an accomplished musician/recording artist in their own right-—over just a good one, is when he/she can separate their own style and sound from that of the artists they’re working for and assist them in achieving their own vision. Great examples? Rick Rubin. Daniel Lanois. Frank Zappa. Ed Ackerson. Bingo! Mission accomplished.

Gary and Ed did a smashing job producing this collection of songs, allowing Sarah Lee and Johnny to impose their own individual styles and imprints on the work. It’s only when the grand, rousing chords, martial beats and screeching harmonicas of “Gervais,” a blistering, scathing indictment of segregation (and pretty much everything else that’s wrong in the world today), come ripping outta the speakers that you realize that Gary’s been waiting in the wings all along, ready to take up his axe and help slam another ‘Hawks-ish classic-to-be home. And boy, do they knock this one outta the ball park, kids. Put it this way: If this record really was playing on a Delta juke, the local rednecks would start gettin’ mighty warm under the collar as the story unfolds and the guitars slash and burn—“Was a battle flag, was a battle flag, was a battle flag ... we can put it away ...”

I can’t repeat it enough—this is a fucking amazing album—nary a stinker on it—and any music lover who gives a damn about decent, honest songwriting, excellent playin’, pickin’ and grinnin’, gorgeous harmonies, and simple, powerful production should drop their iPods and run willy-nilly to their nearest record shop. Exploration, by Sarah Lee Guthrie and Johnny Irion. If they don’t have it, tell ‘em to order it and file it under “American Classics.” Too good for this world.

Lost City Angels
Broken World
(Reybee Productions, 2005)

Boston punk/thrashers Lost City Angels have been making a splash in the hardcore/nu-punk scene on the East Coast for a couple of years now- opening for the likes of Social Distortion, The Dropkick Murphys, and Agnostic Front—and with their Reybee debut, Broken World, they’re poised to bring their screaming, gnashing, power-chord-laden rock ’n’ roll circus to the masses. Hopefully (for our sakes), that doesn’t mean MTV sell-out, corporate subsidization, and eventual obscurity, because I think these guys really have something to say, and I think they really mean it. With a plethora of fake-ass, frontin’, faux-punk phonies clogging up the ears and senses of today’s record-buying youth (is there such a thing anymore, I mean, outside of punk and rap fans?), it’s always a breath of fresh air to come across a band that blasts their vitriol straight from their hearts and down your throat. Which Lost City Angels do quite well, thank you very much. Right from album opener “Liberation” on through the brilliantly brutal “Pretty War,” (a snarling, gut-bucket rocker that gleefully, growlingly takes to task the current administration and the American press’ sickening self-censorship) right on to barn-burners and belt-boilers like the Clash-y title cut, “Clutching At Shadows,” “Cuts And Blood,” and “Today’s The Day,” there’s simply no doubt that these boys (drummer Adam Shaw, guitarist Drew Suxx, bassist Duggan, guitarist Nick Bacon and vocalist Ron Ragona), silly names aside, are dead serious about what they do and what they have to say.

Produced by Sean Slade and Paul Q. Kolderie (The Pixies, Radiohead, Hole), the album may ride just a tad too slick on the ol’ turntable (metaphorically speaking) for my tastes, but I guess that’s all part of what ya have to do to get noticed these days. I’m betting that, live, this band would blow non-believers right through the crowd backwards and out the fucking fire door of any club in the world. Great shit from Boston—crank it up!!

That’s it for me this week, kids. Tune in again, same time, same space, for more blithering, blathering and rock ’n’ roll nut-gathering here at the ‘Dial. Until we meet again—make yer own damn news. ||

If you have local music news/gigs/events/CDs you’d like to see mentioned in this column, or you’d just like to offer your own explanation for the “Great Green Disney Fireball Incident Of Ought Five,” send replies to: (temporary e-mail) jamescrouch_1@juno.com.