‘round the dial: Instant classic
Wednesday 07 June @ 13:53:23 |
 by Tom Hallett
Another wild week gone by here in the Land Of The Midnight Sun, where I’m finally getting a chance to start delving into local, Alaskan music and learn a bit about the scene and the folks who populate it. The band names themselves are enough to get ya to wonderin’, but once ya slop through the always ubiquitous cover bands, boring white boy blues acts, an’ still hopeful hippie-rawk rejects, there are more than a few interesting outfits and individuals to keep three Halletts busy, broke an’ hungover. Here’s just a small sampling of the various artists workin’ the harsh tundra of the 49th state: Twitchin’ Sushi, The Whipsaws, The Smokin’ Bandits, Cluster Funk, The Spamtones (why didn’t anyone in AUSTIN, MINNESOTA come up with THAT one??!!), Sticky Wicker, and Three-Legged Mule. Whew. An’ that’s just the tip of the proverbial iceberg when it comes to modern Alaskan rock n’ roll, gang.
QUOTE OF THE WEEK: “Slang is a language that rolls up its sleeves,
spits on its hands and goes to work.” — Carl Sandburg
SONG OF THE WEEK: “That’s Alright By Me”
— Dillard & Clark
The bands aren’t even half of the fun in the scene up here, either—the
clubs, dives an’ festivals carry slightly mysterious, exciting monikers,
too. Here you’ll get yer dose of loudness an’ yer cold ones at places
like The Bear Tooth, The Whaler, The Beluga, Woolies, The Last Frontier, The
North Slope Saloon, Rumrunner’s, Dead Dog Saloon, Fishhead’s, The
Clam Shell, Humpy’s, Koots, Arctic Bar, The Refinery Lounge, Kodiac Jack’s
and The Yukon Bar. For shits and giggles, ya don’t wanna miss The Salty
Dawg Saloon on the Homer Spit (a log bar with a lighthouse tower that’s
actually a marker for the government on maps of Alaska), 11:30 p.m. sunsets
and the scads of home-brewed, home-carved, home-made, home-grown and home-hearty
meals, garden treats, products, gifts and memorabilia. Salmon fishing, Native
American rituals and dances, camping, hiking, beach parties, outdoor music gigs
and the veritable explosion of nature that abounds in springtime here on the
top of the planet all make for a full schedule for even the most easily bored.
Here’s a place an’ a populace that really appreciates a 70+ degree
day, man.
The characters duckin’ in an’ outta my hectic space these days carry
equally captivating names and tales: Wes The Mess (my local music connection,
you’ll be readin’ a lot more about “The Mess” over the
next few months), The Baked Chef—aka Heart-Attack Boy —Hobo Jim,
Jewel’s über-talented clan (both her father and her brother make
original music, an’ you can bet I’ll be pinnin’ ‘em
down with my mini-cassette recorder real soon, too) The Kilchers, 77-year-old
Mrs. Moe, who sang backup for Buck Owens and once made out with a young Elvis
Presley in a cheesy Duluth hotel, The Gallopin’ G-Ma’s, snoopy landladies,
curious coppers, shady maintenance men, looky-loo pukers in stomach-churning
RVs (thanks, Robin Williams!), hairy, drunken, lust-blinded female fiddlers,
hopeless hippie chix, desperately late dye-burned faux punkers, wacked out pipeline
workers, self-proclaimed tribal chieftans, and the usual gang of stalkers, smack-talkers
an’ jaywalkers ... but this week’s column ain’t gonna get
much further into those subjects, as one of my favorite Minnesota bands is set
to release a fresh album, an’ I jes’ gotta rave about it and the
stories behind the songs. Some of us call him “Ol’ Four Roll Rich”
(just play Yahtzee with him sometime, you’ll get the drift), but you prob’ly
just call him Rich Mattson, and his band is ...
 Ol’
Yeller
Good Luck
2006
SMA Records
Whether crankin’ it out live with the ol’ Glenrustles on stage or
slippin’ us a fresh slice of recorded rock n’ roll with Ol’
Yeller, singer/songwriter/guitarist/engineer Rich Mattson always has a story
(or a dozen) to tell. Good Luck, his fifth album proper with Ol’
Yeller, is no different. Packed right to the gills with tales from his own life
and the lives of those around him, the record is another picture-perfect snapshot
of a place, a time and an era—and the listener doesn’t have to know
Rich or his music to find a piece of themselves or their own world tucked in
the grooves, either.
Kicking off with the bittersweet “Jean Jacket Weather,” Good
Luck immediately encapsulates and portrays the sweeping feeling of change
that’s blown over not only the Twin Cities but the entire planet in the
past few years. Though some of this material has been floating around in one
form or another for some time now, an urgent, timely sense of longing for something
different, cleaner and more pure runs through each and every track. Here Mattson
lays down some pertinent questions and crystal clear answers over a bed of soul-stirring
guitars, loping drums and rollicking bass: “Now the Jumbotron’s
on/ And it’s so good to see you/ The band plays on ‘til you can
barely see ‘em ... I’d love to live where it’s always August,
or late September just before the snow ...”
For those not in the know, longtime scene-builder/studio operator/soundguy/rocker
Mattson recently picked up and moved his whole operation lock, stock and barrel
up to an old church in Northern Minnesota, where he’s originally from.
A plethora of personal and business changes accompanied or followed that move,
and a lot of the songs on this album seem to find the man either offering some
sort of belated, rough-hewn explanation (to himself, to others, to the cosmos
...) or downhome, shoulder-shruggin’ advice of the sort he’s infamous
for.
 I
first heard “I’m Not Worried” as a demo a few years back,
and loved it at first spin. Byrds-y melodies and a palpable, driving Minnesota
rhythm blend perfectly with Rich’s back-porch voice and plain-spoken words
of wisdom. The band Ol’ Yeller is at its finest and purest on tracks like
this as well, having played them out live and at practice literally hundreds
of times. This cut in particular is classic Ol’ Yeller, and one that,
even if you’ve never heard it, will instantly sound familiar to you.
“Be A New Man” is gentle musically, slipping out of the speakers
with such ease you hardly realize the song’s switched until Rich’s
words start hitting home like a ton of bricks; the point brought home all the
more by the fact that he’s since lived up to these words and moved on
with his life: “I’m tired of wakin’ up on the wrong side of
the bed/ I’m tired of tryin’ to sleep with all those voices in my
head/ All the woulda-beens an’ shoulda-beens/ An’ nasty things she
said/ I’ll meet you in the middle gonna be a new man ...” Then he
lays it out plain as day: “An’ it ain’t no threat/ No I’m
just letting you all know/ Just go ahead an’ ask me Rich, dude where you
gonna go?/ Somewhere cool an’ green an’ shady babe, with lots of
room ... you see me gettin’ smaller as I amble down the street ...”
The album closes out with “Go On, Now,” a melancholy brush with
regret bolstered by that tiny grain of pure hope that sets Rich (and a bevy
of other brilliant Twin Cities-based artists) apart from the pack. Here he wraps
up the threads of all the ideas running through the rest of the album, takes
a deep metaphorical breath and plunges into his future (which is now his present,
which will soon be his past ... well, you get the point) with all the guts and
gusto of the pioneers who settled and mined the land he was born and bred on
up Iron Range way. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again—SIGN
THIS GUY TO A LABEL AND GET THIS SHIT OUT TO THE REST OF AMERICA AND THE WORLD
BEYOND!!!! Man, if I were an A&R guy, the world would be a very different
(and eminently more listenable) place to live in, ah tellyew whut...
Check out the new album and Ol’ Yeller updates at www.olyellerband.com,
and don’t miss the official CD release party for Good Luck (where
you can behold the reworked lineup, with longtime drummer/buddy Keely Lane stepping
aside for talented newcomer Ryan Otte and old Glenrustles bandmate Greg MacAloon
signing on as a permanent member) Fri., June 9 at The Turf Club in St. Paul.
That’s it for me this time ‘round, guys n’ gals. Spin
yer dials this way next week for more of the same. 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 cast your vote for Ugliest American
in my private contest, send replies to (NEW E-MAIL) tommygunn@acsalaska.net.
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