In love again: Greg Brown’s latest touches on affairs of the heart.

Roadhouse Prophet

Greg Brown delivers his most righteous sermon yet

Greg Brown Covenant Red House

AS A FOLK-BLUES SINGER, Greg Brown has earned a well-deserved reputation as “a wickedly sharp observer of the human condition,” to borrow a phrase from Rolling Stone. This, his first album in three years and the follow-up to the road-weary Slant 6 Mind, is perhaps his best. Brown–hailed as Iowa’s Bruce Springsteen and arguably one of America’s best songwriters–just keeps getting better, albeit in a grizzled, life-is-weighing-heavily-on-my-shoulders sort of way.

Indeed, even when Brown is happy and singing about the upside of love, he displays a wry wit and cynical streak. Yet there is a haunting quality to his songs, thanks in no small part to the wistful, bluesy guitar accents of longtime collaborator Bo Ramsey. Whether he’s caressing a restless ballad (“Rexroth’s Daughter”) or spinning a subtle analogy for a well-worn love affair (“Blue Car”), Brown lays bare your soul in a way that only Bob Dylan, Springsteen, and handful of others can.

In the future, this underrated tunesmith should be getting much more attention: word is that Brown will be the subject of an upcoming tribute album, featuring his songs covered by Lucinda Williams, Ani DeFranco, Iris Dement, Stacey Earle, and others. Greg Cahill

Stuck Mojo Declaration of a Headhunter Century Media

Taproot Taproot Gift Atlantic

THE BACKBONE of “nu-metal” still owes a heavy debt to hip-hop, as bands like Papa Roach and P.O.D. find identity and success riding a post&-Rage/Bizkit wave. But an evolving edge has heavy bands echoing alt-rock’s “emo-core” in a quest for expansive melodic expression. Acts like Stuck Mojo and Taproot can’t help but employ rap-metal’s staccato vocal attack and punk-funk base, but they infuse the aggro-groove with reflective change-ups, harmonic bursts, and tuneful choruses.

Stuck Mojo find melody in a classic chunky thrash snarl. Their latest fits neatly with Anthrax’s many catchy, driving works, and the band’s prominent hook-laden, bright, doubled guitar leads recall Iron Maiden and Thin Lizzy. Their insurgent, survivalist lyrical stance aims for Rage Against the Wannabes, but is grounded by self-searching challenges. Taproot are emo-core/alt-rock in the way melodic twists help singer Stephen Richards highlight his pain. They’re nu-metal in the way their clichéd riffs surround those songwriting shifts. And they’re weird like early alt-metal pioneers Faith No More, with a strummed consistency similar to that of recent Filter.

While these current headbangers don’t seek the full structural or emotional freedom that marks pure emo-core, their tweaking of the groove formula helps keep nu-metal new. Karl Byrn

Neko Case & Her Boyfriends Furnace Room Lullaby Bloodshot

Kelly Hogan & the Pine Valley Cosmonauts Beneath the Country Underdog Bloodshot

SOMETIMES alt-country acts don’t mimic or twist classic country styles; they just favor those styles in a blend of rootsy retro-pop. That’s true of two recent efforts by indie gals Neko Case and Kelly Hogan, both from Chicago’s Bloodshot Records, which rightfully calls itself the home of “insurgent country.” Case and Hogan are both spunky singer/stylists who rely on the country-rock chops of their bands, and despite Bloodshot’s claims, they’re more accessible than rebellious. Case is the more involved songwriter and hits a somewhat purer rockabilly-meets-countrypolitan sound, working with indie-rock guys like Evan Johns and Ron Sexsmith. On the waltz-time cut “Thrice All American,” she gracefully describes her hometown of Tacoma as “a dusty old jewel in the south Puget Sound/ where the factories churn/ and the timber’s all cut down.” But she still notices gangs and Wal-Mart. Hogan’s band includes Jon Langford and Steve Goulding of the Mekons, and her interesting choice of covers (Johnny Paycheck, Stephin Merritt, the Band) adds to a disc of colorful folk-pop that echoes ’60s and ’70s hits.

Both Case and Hogan often hit their mark, making alt-country that’s not too daring or derivative but sure is sweet, sad, and sassy. K.B.

James Armstrong Got It Goin’ On Hightone

A KNIFE ATTACK three years ago cut into blues guitarist and singer James Armstrong’s momentum right in the midst of his touring for 1995’s acclaimed HighTone debut, Sleeping with a Stranger. That led Armstrong to record a more vocal-oriented soul album as a follow-up. This time out, the blues is in the house, and Armstrong shows that you can’t keep a good guitar slinger down. While he hasn’t fully regained the use of his left hand, Armstrong sounds strong–just check out his wrenching solo on the ballad “Another Dream”–and has added a stinging slide guitar to his arsenal. Joe Louis Walker’s rhythm section provides the backup, and Robert Cray keyboardist Jimmy Pugh appears on two tracks. But Armstrong sounds confident, and, while he’s not as fast as he used to be, this is one cat who can serve up plenty of soul. G.C.

Spin du Jour

Mike Audridge, Bob Brozman, and David Grisman Tone Poems III: The Sounds of Great Slide & Resophonic Instruments Acoustic Disc

MONDO-MANDOLINIST David Grisman returns with another dazzling display of bluegrass wizardry and a pair of fast-picking friends, master dobro player Mike Auldridge and slide guitarist extraordinaire Bob Brozman. As with past volumes, this recording employs vintage instruments (and stunning photos of the artsy detail that graces these gorgeous guitars, mandolins, ukes, tenortropes, and other stringed wonders). The tunes, mostly classic jazz, get an old-timey treatment as well: “Stomping at the Savoy,” “Limehouse Blues,” “Crazy Rhythm.” Smooth as silk. G.C.

From the August 31-September 6, 2000 issue of the Sonoma County Independent.

© Metro Publishing Inc.

Chick chic: Pianist and composer Chick Corea and his trio co-headline this year’s fest.

Russian River Jazz Festival Schedule

SOMETIMES dreams do come true. A lot of local jazz fans grumbled about the smooth jazz (pronounced “pop”) and chardonnay haze that had come to obscure this venerable event, which in the past has showcased the likes of bebop pioneer Dizzy Gillespie. The people spoke , and the programmers listened. The top acts featured at the annual festival–now in its 24th year at Johnson’s Beach in Guerneville–are mostly rooted in straight-ahead jazz and are far more innovative than recent offerings. The Chick Corea Trio, vocalist Dee Dee Bridgewater, percussionist Poncho Sanchez, singer Kevin Mahogany, and the Mel Martin/Harold Jones 17-piece big band will shine on Saturday, Sept. 9. The Sunday, Sept. 10, lineup features saxophonist Branford Marsalis, trumpeter Roy Hargrove, vocalist Flora Purim and percussionist Airto, and the Omega Aires Gospel Singers. The gate opens at 10 a.m. Advance tickets are $40 each day, $70 for both. 869-3940.

From the August 31-September 6, 2000 issue of the Sonoma County Independent.

© Metro Publishing Inc.

High plains drifter: Singer-songwriter Jimmie Dale Gilmore.

Cosmic Cowboy

Texas troubadour Jimmie Dale Gilmore rides into the Mystic Theater

By Greg Cahill and Alan Sculley

“I’M A DUAL personality,” says singer-songwriter Jimmie Dale Gilmore with a quiet laugh. “You know, I’m sort of the new kid on the block–enjoying a newfound success–and I’m the jaded veteran. I guess you could say I’m watching it unfold through both sets of eyes.”

It’s an unusual situation, to be sure.

Nearly 35 years ago, Gilmore’s now-defunct band, the legendary Flatlanders, helped pave the way for the retro- and alt-country sound with an innovative blend of country, folk, blues, and rock styles. Shunned by the Nashville establishment, Texas troubadour Gilmore has long been a critics’ darling. In 1991, Rolling Stone selected him as country artist of the year in its prestigious annual rock critics’ poll. And USA Today–and another 100 or so newspapers–named his 1991 major label debut, After Awhile (Elektra), country album of the year.

Gilmore’s two most recent CDs have been viewed as if they came from two different worlds. At least that seems to be the consensus in the music press and among many of his fans. Braver New World, released in 1996, was widely viewed as a major departure for Gilmore. Produced by T-Bone Burnett, that album had an edgy feel and experimented liberally with instrumentation and sonics, frequently featuring chiming electric guitars, horns, and echoed background tones. It also included some of the rawest, hardest-rocking performances Gilmore had ever committed to tape on songs like “Black Snake Moan” and “Outside the Lines.”

By contrast, his newly released One Endless Night is being touted as a classic Gilmore album. The disc is largely acoustic in its sound and more traditional in its approach, and it highlights more of the melodic folk and country side of Gilmore’s music. It draws material from such diverse sources as the late country folkster Townes Van Zandt, rocker John Hiatt (a stunning version of “Your Love Is My Rest”), the Grateful Dead (“Ripple”), and even Kurt Weill and Bertolt Brecht (a radically transformed take on “Mack The Knife”).

Gilmore, however, says it would be a mistake to consider the two CDs polar opposites. He used a description of Buddy Miller, guitarist for the Emmy Lou Harris band and the producer of One Endless Night, to help put the similarities between his two most recent CDs into perspective.

“What I noticed was that Buddy truly loves the real traditional kind of romantic American music,” Gilmore says. “But at the same time, he’s a real rock ‘n’ roller. He has a flair for the really edgy kind of music. So to me, if it happens that a record or even a song, a particular song, falls a little further one way or the other on that spectrum, it’s still within the compass of what appeals to me.

“So that’s kind of the way I look at it.”

FAME AND FORTUNE may have proved elusive over the years, but Gilmore hasn’t complained about the attention–though, he admits, being a critics’ darling is a mixed blessing.

“It could be bad if it creates giant expectations that they don’t figure I measure up to next time around, which is always possible,” he says. “But I never let that affect what I’m doing, because all the stuff I’ve done in the past was a result of relentlessly sticking to my guns and doing what I know I’m capable of.”

Certainly, Gilmore’s distinctive sound is an acquired taste. Yet those who venture beyond his affected old-timey vocals–a plaintive, nasal twang that harks back to his west Texas roots–will find some powerful songs and performances.

Raised in Lubbock, Texas (home of Buddy Holly), he grew up in a region that has spawned such renegade country acts as Joe Ely, Nanci Griffith, and Butch Hancock. In that neck of the woods, folks often point to a rash of UFO sightings–the notorious “Lubbock lights”–to explain the presence of so many cosmic cowboys and cowgirls.

In 1971, Gilmore, Ely, and Hancock formed the Flatlanders, a band that combined modern lyrics and traditional instrumentation (including a musical saw). Their 1972 recording (released only on eight-track tape) quickly vanished but became an instant cult classic. (In 1990, Rounder Records reissued the album as More a Legend than a Band.) A thousand honky-tonks later, Gilmore resurfaced in the mid-’80s on the Oakland-based Hightone label.

But it was After Awhile, part of the Elektra/Nonesuch’s short-lived five-part “American Explorer” series, that rekindled Gilmore’s solo career.

“I felt flattered to be included and almost like I didn’t really belong there,” he says. “But it sure has been a great stepping stone.”

Indeed, the acclaim led to a five- album deal with Elektra. “You know, I’d just like to make enough money to keep a real good band going,” Gilmore says. “It’s not like I have anything against money, but it’s never been the real driving force in my life–although I wouldn’t mind finding a money tree.

“But in terms of artistic integrity, money allows me to keep a band together, write songs, and record–and that pretty much ties all my ambitions together.”

Jimmie Dale Gilmore performs Friday, Sept. 1, at 8:30 p.m., at the Mystic Theater, 21 Petaluma Blvd. N., Petaluma. Tickets are $18. 765-2121.

From the August 24-30, 2000 issue of the Sonoma County Independent.

© Metro Publishing Inc.