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Reviews

Album Review: Eric Church–Desperate Man

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Rating: 9/10

At this point in his career, we all know that Eric Church isn’t really a country artist. His music is and always has been more correctly labeled as roots rock. But that’s not really the point anymore with Church, unless perhaps you’re a firm traditionalist who is only interested in music soaked with fiddle and steel. The bigger point with Eric Church is that in a mainstream full of compromise, he remains his own man, and in a world of drum machines and watered down lines, his records are organic sonically and intelligent lyrically. It may not be very country–although the songwriting on this record and even the instrumentation in a few places certainly can be argued as such–but Desperate Man is firmly and unashamedly roots music, with bluesy interludes and extended guitar solos, and radically different from the majority of major label albums, certainly different from those albums that are still somewhat radio-supported. Eric Church has not abandoned radio, or maybe it would be more accurate to say radio has not abandoned Eric Church, but you get the feeling listening to this album that airplay is a secondary concern, the primary ones being appealing to his fans, and most importantly, doing whatever he damned well pleases.

The rootsy, organic nature of this record is so refreshing. It’s not experimental to the point it loses sight of itself like much of The Outsiders, but the instruments are allowed to breathe more so than on Church’s last record, Mr. Misunderstood. Desperate Man balances the feel of those two albums well, finding and keeping the best elements from each of them. This record finds Church more sure of himself and his sound than ever before, and although there are varying influences, it feels less like the aimless wanderings of The Outsiders than just simply trying to correctly interpret each song and capture the right mood and style to fit the lyrics. He’s never in a hurry to get to the point, often meandering through various chords and guitar licks before settling into the groove of a song. The album opener, “The snake,” introduces the record with over a minute of bluesy guitar picking before any other instruments join the party. “Heart Like a Wheel” wanders through dissonant chords and arpeggios before sliding into its groove and selecting a key, and “Solid” features almost an instrumental prelude of drums and electric guitar flourishes ahead of the actual song. These are little things, but they really enhance the record, giving it a cohesive, continuing feel all the way through and further stressing the point that this isn’t your typical mainstream record full of artificial drumbeats and electronic sounds. These are actual musicians playing actual instruments and giving the album a bit of a live feel.

And you can say Eric Church isn’t country, but it’s hard to classify a song like “Jukebox and a Bar” as anything else. Sure, crying steel is replaced with electric guitar licks, but this is your classic country heartbreak song about drowning sorrows in a bottle. “Some of It” and “Hippie Radio” feature prominent acoustic guitar and country songwriting, the former detailing all the lessons life teaches you on the journey, and the latter being a story song revolving around the radio and how the different songs became the soundtrack of the narrator’s life, from driving around with his dad to starting a family of his own years later. Both of these could be accidental radio hits as well, fitting the format without compromising anything lyrically. “Solid” is another one that’s very country thematically; basically, think of a remake of Dierks Bentley’s “I Hold On.”

Vocally, Church just reaches a different level on this album. It’s like all the passion that we knew existed and which came out from time to time on his previous records finally reaches its full potential here. He slays the title track vocally, doing great justice to the songwriting of Ray Wylie Hubbard and singing with the same kind of fierceness and intensity that you can imagine Hubbard employing. This one is both better and worse in the context of the entire album–better because it fits the mood of the whole thing so well and worse because it’s not really a standout of the record. Church’s vocals are also on fine display in “Hangin’ Around,” the least country but also the most infectious tune on the album. He does a nice job building throughout “Heart Like a Wheel,” a song about opposites attracting that’s infused with some blues and soul. “Higher Wire” nearly stretches his range too far; it still works, but it admittedly may have worked better one key lower. Still, the strain goes well with the lyrics about this love that’s addicting and out of control.

Listening to this album, you keep waiting for that one obvious commercial single, but it doesn’t come. There’s no drop in quality lyrically and no compromise in the sound. Not every song is fantastic, but every song is good, and each belongs on the album. Desperate Man is eleven tracks and thirty-seven minutes long, with no filler and avoiding the mainstream trend to cram in as many songs as possible. Not only did Eric Church make the record he wanted to make, but the record he wanted to make was a damn good one. We should be both shocked and thrilled that this came out of the mainstream in 2018 and recognize it as a victory for artistic freedom and growth as well as one for organic roots music and quality songwriting. As for Church himself, this album signifies him finding his place vocally and sonically, releasing a record that not only stretches boundaries but also knows what it wants to be and carries out that vision well. This may not be for everyone, but again, that’s not really the point. It’s the album you want from Eric Church, the best of his career and certainly the strongest to come out of the mainstream this year.

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Reviews

Single Review: Eric Church’s “Desperate Man”

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Rating: 7/10

Eric Church and Ray Wylie Hubbard may be the most genius musical pairing I’ve seen since George Strait and Dean Dillon. Why? Because Ray Wylie Hubbard is a master storyteller, especially when it comes to God and the devil and using biblical and paranormal references in his songs. However, the problem I had with his last album was that all those insanely good and interesting lyrics were brought down by samey, bland melodies that plagued the whole record. But take lyrics like Hubbard’s, and give them to Eric Church–here’s a vocalist who sings with fire and passion and understands the value in the sheer delivery of a song and interpretation of a lyric. Now it becomes something only a co-write like this one could have produced, a song with darkness and substance that appeals to independent music fans while also being pretty accessible to the mainstream.

That mainstream sensibility does lead to the strange, almost disco arrangement, and the “boo boos” in the background can be more distracting than catchy. The production style isn’t a problem within itself, but you do feel like it could have cut loose a little more, in the vein of “Chattanooga Lucy,” a song which this one calls to mind rhythmically. That song did a better job of letting the instrumentation take over than this one does, but the organic nature of an Eric Church song is always refreshing to hear in a world of drum loops and electronic sounds.

Ray Wylie Hubbard’s hand is all over this, as this tune was borne of his story about going to a fortune-teller and being told he had no future to read. It’s weird and quirky in the way a Ray Wylie song always is, but Eric Church makes it lively and fun, and before you know it, you’re singing along to lyrics about nailing crucifixes to walls. And Church slays this vocally; when he comes in at the bridge belting the lyrics with only percussion behind him, just like in “Lucy,” it’s one of those magical moments that you can’t forget as a music listener.

It’s an interesting song; the first time you listen, it’s kind of strange, and the production can get in the way. But a few listens in, and it hooks you. The very lines that made it weird are the ones that make it stand out in mainstream country, and the very aspects of the production that can be annoying at first are the ones that hold this together and render it a really catchy, fun song. More collaborating from these two, please.

Written by: Eric Church, Ray Wylie Hubbard

Commentary

Melody: The Most Forgotten and Forsaken Element in Music

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“Nobody even attempts to write a melody.”

These were some of the infamous words of Merle Haggard when he gave his opinion on modern mainstream country back in 2015. Interesting words because while you can find plenty of people harping on the lack of lyrical content and substance in the mainstream, or bitching about the encroachment of other genres and electronic beats into their beloved country music, not many people have commented on what may be the most rampant problem running through modern American music: the consistent lack of memorable and engaging melodies.

But even though we don’t mention it, this makes sense in the mainstream. Much of the stuff coming from Music Row is unimaginative and forgettable, and the lack of melody is only one small problem. So yeah, maybe we don’t criticize it often enough, but it’s not a stretch to see the undeniable lack of care for this crucial element in mainstream country.

But I’d argue it’s an even bigger problem in the world of Americana and independent music; yep, you know, that world where everything is good, and we can’t criticize anything. IN fact, I’d say that the mainstream is maybe the best place to find entertaining melodies these days–and no, that’s not saying a lot because so much mainstream music is just downright boring, but the majority of the songs we call “guilty pleasures” that come out of the mainstream stick with us because they’re catchy. They get stuck in our heads. Sure, we know the lyrics are stupid, maybe even at times misogynistic. But it’s the melody, and/or that lively, infectious instrumentation that keeps us liking the song despite how our mind tells us we should feel about it.

Conversely, how many Americana projects have you listened to that while there weren’t any flaws per se, there was also nothing memorable whatsoever? Maybe you read reviews or heard from listeners how great a record was, how awesome the songwriting was, etc., and for whatever reason just could not get into the album. That’s not to take away from the special art of songwriting, and it’s also true music is by nature subjective, but sometimes, albums are ruined just by a lack of effort and care for the melodies. Ray Wylie Hubbard’s is a shining example of this and indeed the inspiration for this post; equally, John Moreland’s latest might well have been the most boring record of the year if not for those catchy hooks and enchanting melodies that kept you coming back enough times to really unwrap the brilliance in his lyrics.

This problem of forsaking melodies is no doubt directly related to the equally alarming lack of quality vocalists in the independent scenes, which is itself a topic worthy of an entire post. We question whether to criticize such things as a singer’s vocal ability, and indeed, things like tone can’t be helped, but the technical abilities of singers can also be improved. Shows like The Voice and American Idol have gone to the other extreme, painting a picture of vocal ability as everything without taking into account an artist’s ability to draw an audience in emotionally. This emotional connection is more vital than technical skill, But singing is also more than emotive interpreting; this is what makes it different from reading poetry. it’s also nice to hear a great vocalist sing the hell out of a song; that’s one of the reasons Lauren Alaina’s sophomore album was such a joy to listen to.

When singer-songwriters are writing songs to fit their increasingly limited vocal ranges and abilities, their melodies become limited as well and often become somewhat of an afterthought. The results are often good lyrics that were turned into boring, lifeless songs. I’ve heard numerous Americana albums like this in 2017, brimming with good songwriting but completely forgettable. A singer may indeed possess that special thing that connects them with an audience and allows them to draw emotion out of every word, but does that matter if those magical words are translated into boring, forgettable music? Melody is what brings the lyrics to life and makes the songs resonate with us and get stuck in our heads. A script is only as good as the actors who make it come alive onstage, and lyrics on a page are only as thoughtful and relatable as the vocalist who interprets them for the world and the melody to which the songwriter sets them.

We praise songwriters, and we say we’re living in the age of the song, but it’s more like the age of the lyric. These independent/Americana types are often so caught up in telling a story and/or being deep and thoughtful that they forget what makes music such a unique and treasured art form. It’s good to be artistic, but that artistry shouldn’t replace accessibility. Even our greatest songwriters like Jason Isbell are guilty of this; there’s some brilliant material on his latest album, but some of it is honestly just forgettable melodically. This is not to take away from Jason Isbell as an artist or a lyricist, more to paint a picture of just how deep the problem goes and to illustrate that even the greatest songwriters and albums suffer from this phenomenon in 2017.

There is a lot of talk these days, especially in this blogging world, about what, if any, of the music coming out currently will be remembered years from now. Not ten or twenty, but say, fifty years down the road. Will we be listening to any music from today like people still listen to Hank? That’s a whole different discussion, but I’d argue that it’s not just the lack of substance keeping songs from having that timeless quality. It’s not just shallow radio singles that will be forgotten, but many of our greatest songwriters in both mainstream and independent music will suffer the same fate if they continue to treat melody as some sort of secondary element. It’s that indefinable thing that keeps us coming back to a song years later, that recalls a memory, a specific place and time, and has us singing a chorus we haven’t heard in so long but to which we still can recite the words. It’s the melodies which linger on in our minds and stir our hearts, and I hate to see it becoming so marginalized, even by otherwise great musicians and lyricists. So songwriters, please don’t forget this crucial part of your craft, or treat it as somehow secondary to your lyrics. It’s the thing that holds them together and gives them character, taking those thoughts from your head and words on a page and turning them into timeless songs that we’ll sing for years to come.

Reviews

Album Review: Ray Wylie Hubbard–Tell the Devil I’m Gettin’ There as Fast as I Can

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Rating: 5/10

I’ve given this album a ton of listens, and truth be told, it gets worse almost each time. It’s a difficult rating to assign because I think there are some truly excellent songs here; the problem is that they’re mixed in with some incredibly boring material that balances out the record to just be really average. It’s not necessarily a fault of the writing or of the instrumentation, it’s the sameness permeating this album that ultimately brings it down after further listens.

But let’s talk about the killer songs first because they’re sprinkled in here, reminding us what a songwriting genius Ray Wylie Hubbard really is. This album deals a lot, as its title would suggest, with God and the devil and matters of repentance and redemption. We get a truly epic tale in “Lucifer and the Fallen Angels,” as they hitchhike with Ray Wylie to Mobile, Alabama, and Lucifer recounts the story of getting banished from heaven and continuously advises Hubbard to abandon his plan of going to Nashville, saying, “it’s better to reign in hell than serve in heaven.” He suggests that Ray Wylie go “someplace like Texas,” where they still appreciate good music. On the other side of the spectrum, Hubbard details the story of the creation and the fall in Genesis in what can only be described as a redneck retelling in the opener, “God Looked Around.” His storytelling skills are also on fine display in “House of the White Rose Bouquet,” a haunting tale about a “woman of desire” named Olivia whom the narrator once loved. She now haunts the brothel where they worked, but it’s now been turned into a theater, or as Ray Wylie calls it, “a beacon of decency.”

We have two collaborations featured on this record, and the title track is definitely going to be the one getting more attention because it features Lucinda Williams and Eric Church, but it’s the Patty Griffin harmonies on the closer, “IN Times of Cold,” that make this song the better collaboration by far. This song ends the album appropriately, reflecting on heaven but asserting that “I’ll likely take my place in hell.”

As for the title track, it’s a good narrative, and the details and melodic touches here are nice, especially considering the overwhelming sameness in much of the album which I am about to address, but Lucinda Williams’ part here just ruins this. The only word I can think to properly describe her contribution is careless; she doesn’t sing in time with Ray and Eric Church, her voice sticks out like a sore thumb, and she doesn’t sound at all engaged with the lyrics of the song. Eric Church is much more respectful of the song and the words, but it’s like Lucinda just wanted to be heard.

Why am I spending so much time harping on this particular song? Because it should have been one of the standouts. This album is filled with songs having very little instrumentation and almost no choruses. The only songs where we are not hit with the same repeated verse, over and over, until we’re virtually hypnotized by this repetition of rhythm and lack of interesting melody, are the collaborations. It’s like a breath of fresh air to hear the title track come on and get a little more variety, and then Lucinda Williams just comes along and ruins the whole thing for me.

And songwriters, what is this tendency to forsake your melodies? It doesn’t matter that the lyrics are brilliant if they’re translated into a boring, lifeless piece of music. This is what ultimately takes this album from a 7.5 straight down to a 5. The three songs I mentioned above? Yes, they’re all killer lyrically, and I stand by that, but all of them are incredibly repetitive. The lyrics hold up well enough on these songs that it doesn’t matter, but almost the whole rest of the record is so plain and forgettable that even these songs are tarnished in context. On some of the other tracks, it’s not as if the lyrics are bad. It’s just that a song is more than lyrics, and we rely on melodies to make these words come alive. Much of it just sounds so unfinished, like we’re listening to the first drafts of these songs before they were given a proper chance to find the right instrumentation and production and truly come to life. I especially get that impression listening to “Open G,” like Ray Wylie Hubbard was just messing around with his guitar and never actually intended that song to be on the final version of the record. It’s a completely pointless track, so that at least would be a legitimate explanation for its existence here.

Overall, I don’t hate this record. In fact, I think there are some truly brilliant moments here, particularly in “Lucifer and the Fallen Angels” and “House of the White Rose Bouquet.” But it’s an album whose problems emerge over time, and there’s not much longevity at all. At first, you hear some killer tracks, some decent ones, and yeah, maybe a couple boring ones to round it out. Not a perfect album, but a decent one. And then, through repeated listens, the overwhelming sameness in this record starts to wear it down. It’s a lack of care for the instrumentation and especially for the melody that if given more attention could have really changed this whole album. All in all, it just seems really uninspired, and Ray Wylie Hubbard is certainly capable of much better.

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