Sixpence for your thoughts?
Heeding ancient proverbial wisdom, Joe reviews albums.
“Something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue, a sixpence in your shoe”
Heeding the old proverb, first quoted in print in 1871, I decided to use it as a framework to discuss some albums that I have recently delved into.
Something Old
Ronnie Dunn- Broken Neon Hearts
Ronnie Dunn is a more complex figure then you might think. Everyone thinks of the standard electric guitar driven, honky tonk rhythm, power country that Brooks and Dunn are most known for. However, a thorough listen to their discography reveals more nuance. On their earlier material, they had some very traditional material (I'm a devoted advocate of Cool Drink of Water from the debut. Probably my favorite Brooks and Dunn song). As the 90s went on, they kept on cranking up the guitars. To those who hear Achy Breaky Heart and perceive that as a neotraditional country song, the differences between the early and late part of the decade for Brooks and Dunn may not be easily understandable.
As the new millenium hit, they further changed and experimented with adding pop influences into the figurative crockpot. Arguably what most of the younger generation thinks of as the signature Brooks and Dunn sound is the mixture they settled on for Red Dirt Road and onwards. It is a textured southern rock and muscular country mixed with power ballad worthy vocal performances by Ronnie Dunn and the occasional barn burner by Kix. It turned down some of the more experimental sounds from the turn of the millenum and ended up with a memorable sound that melded the electrified honky tonk of their earlier material with the more mature and full textured arrangements of their later material.
All of that is to say that when Ronnie Dunn announced that a new album was coming down the pipe, there was no guarantee what was to come. His solo material has been iffy. A solid debut record that was a more unvarnished rock focused take on the Brooks and Dunn sound was followed up by the mixed bag of Peace, Love, and Country Music and the dismal Tattooed Heart. Both of those albums seemed to struggle heavily with attempting to remain relevant. Unlike Tim Mcgraw, who has managed to effectively pivot to whatever is popular at the moment in Nashville and execute it effectively, Dunn really seemed to be trying too hard. I'm sure structural incentives against older artists and Dunn loudly protesting the system didn't help, but regardless the music was very mediocre. Also, whoever thought using auto-tune on such a expressive and unique voice like the travesty of Cowgirls Rock n’ Roll should be fired.
Perhaps as a saving face technique, perhaps a resignation to reality, Dunn has pivoted back to his wheelhouse of down the middle, electric guitar focused, 90s/00s honky tonk. To hone it down more specifically, 90s/00s electric guitar focused honky tonk exclusively about heartbreak, alcohol, honky tonk bars, and heartbroken alcohol drinkers in honky tonk bars.
But here's the positive thing. This album slaps. It just feels right. You would think that Kix Brooks was a nonentity in Brooks and Dunn with the cozy familiar feelings this album produces. In youthful parlance, they'd say it has immaculate vibes. Dunn explores every nook and cranny of the alcohol/heartbreak/neon trinity and although it is well documented ground, he does a thorough job. It is a very consistent project that sounds great. Similar to what I wrote about Tracy Lawrence and Mark Chestnutt a few months ago, this album feels the most authentically Ronnie Dunn of anything he's put out in years. That is worth something. I feel the value added of the artistic expression outweighs the issues with the album. Mostly those are found in its uniform consistency. Songs flow together almost too well with the lack of variation on song topic turning into a disadvantage. There's a fine balance between a concept or themed album and an album that unnecessarily repeats the same idea over and over again. How it comes off to you is more a matter of personal taste. For me it really worked well.
Something New
Ronnie Criss- Highways
I can't figure out where I first saw this album mentioned. I feel like I saw a review outlet cover it, but when I went and looked around I was unable to find anyone talking about it. A shame because this is an excellent debut project. The album is a warm and inviting mixture of classic rock and 2000s country. I'm not sure I would call this a concept album, but a very strong theme runs throughout. The idea of the highway in the American consciousness is a contradictory thing. Creative and destructive. Journey or escape. Lonely and comforting. These themes all run throughout the record. Sometimes in straightforward painted lines, other times in twisty turns.
Ronnie’s voice is warm and cozy. I would say that it is a country voice. I don't mean like a Tyler Hubbard style or Jessica Simpson in the Dukes of Hazzard with the twang exaggerated to the point of parody. In fact, I don’t view the southern accent as needed for a vocal to be country. There’s a conversational quality to Criss’s tone that adds a nice sense of realism to the vivid imagery he paints. To me, that is the defining characteristic of a country vocal. There are no vocal theatrics to distract from the words being spoken. Words are plainspoken. This focus on conversational tonality inevitably leads to a more nasal and accented delivery. With most country singers being from the south, (my apologies to greats like Connie Smith- Ohio, Eddie Rabbitt- New Jersey and so many others), naturally most country music will have a southern accent tinge to it. That is ancillary. Not causative. Hank Williams' speaking voice sounded identical to his singing voice. That is the model to emulate regardless of where you call home. The perfect example of this would be Zephaniah Ohora who has maybe the most country vocals since Merle Haggard. He is from Brooklyn!
Something I greatly enjoyed about the writing on the record is the specificity. More than just being detailed, the adjectives and descriptions are carefully selected. Instead of a simple “I'm trying to stay in control” trope when describing a tumultuous romantic relationship, Ronnie instead chooses to describe it as “All I'm trying to do/ Is hold the wheel at 10 and 2.” This paints a lovely sense of imagery. It also deeply ties into the themes of the album. The album is littered with these little touches enhancing the immersive feel of the record. I really enjoyed it and am looking forward to the future of Ronnie Criss. I would write more, but to be honest, I am still digesting it. Each listen reveals more and more. Cannot emphasize how highly I recommend this. Easily a top 5 project for me this year.
Something Borrowed
Charley Crockett Lil GL Presents: Jukebox Charley
Charley Crockett is an intimidating presence to try and cover. There's a reason nearly any review you see mentioned the breakneck pace with which he releases albums. I first paid attention to him with his mid pandemic Welcome to Hard Times. It excellently tapped into the spirit of the times. Having been introduced with such an excellent project, I then dug into his older material. There was plenty to listen to, and as I slowly carved my way through the backlog, Crockett kept on releasing more music. He puts out two albums per year like clockwork. One is original content and the other is a cover project.
Cover projects usually have massive flaws. Chief among them is that the original tracks exist. It is very difficult to think of a fresh way to present the music when the original version of the song exists as a benchmark for how the song is properly done. Crockett cleverly skirts around this issue. Firstly, he selects songs that most of the audience don’t know. This way, when listening to his rendition you don’t immediately focus on the differences. Secondly, the purpose of this project is different then most. Typically when an artist does a cover project, he or she aims to either tribute a specific artist or to boost their own profile by releasing music that the general audience already knows and may be intrigued to hear a new rendition. Crockett seemingly has a different motive. He wishes to shed light on songs and artists that personally influence his brand of vintage traditional country music. He is deeply enmeshed in the world of 1950’s and 1960’s country music and these albums exist as a means to bring that era back to life. To this end, there is a careful focus on matching the production techniques and arrangement styles precisely to the era and aura of the song. If bright piano tones or warm and cozy guitar picking was in vogue at Studio A in the original recording, rest assured that they will make an appearance in this updated cover.
This is not to say that Crockett’s production team simply copy pastes Owen Bradley or Chet Atkins. Rather they carefully account for all the elements that made the song so compelling in the original iteration and bring those elements to the forefront. Mix the warm timbre of vintage production with Crockett’s signature grainy texture and careful delivery and you have an exceptionally compelling listen. Many of these songs are relative unknowns and that only enhances the power of what he accomplishes on the record. The record is both a business card certifying the deep connection to classic country and an invitation to the modern fan to understand and embrace the old.
I especially like the rendition of Roger Miller’s Where Have All the Average People Gone. A tweak is made to the lyrics. The word “Honest” is substituted in the place of “Average”. This feels like a great personal touch. Crockett often takes the pessimistic and resigned side of things in his music. This feels like an appropriate merger between Miller's wry perspective and Crockett’s subdued pessimism.
Something Blue
Sam Williams- Glasshouse Children: Tilted Crown.
I was thinking about discussing the Sam Williams deluxe album. I was incredibly high on his debut. It is very rare that I get obsessively gripped by music. A good album is one that I choose to return to when the time feels right. Seneca by Charles Wesley Godwin is a great example. Despite considering it one of the greatest collections of musical art that I have ever experienced, I don't listen to it frequently. It requires the right mood. Perhaps after a long day and sitting in a comfortable chair. In contrast, when I first heard Glasshouse Children, I couldn't stop listening to it. I would pop it on first thing in the morning and would give it another listen by lunchtime. By the time I finished work, I was in need of a further listen. I was probably listening to the album two or three times a day minimum for over a week. Hooked, line and sinker.
The album fundamentally is about loss. Within this broader theme, different angles are discussed. Loss of innocence. Loss of relationship. Loss of hope. Loss of identity. Williams' raspy tone details the emptiness that loss carves out within us. Whether it's detailing the emptiness and loss of normalcy that a childhood of fame brings in the title track or the despair of loss of a mother figure in Can't Fool Your Own Blood, deep topics are tackled with a maturity and the despondent weight and wisdom of “been there done that” that is tacked onto the young shoulders and voice of Mr. Williams.
Even the celebratory songs thematically fit. 10-4 and Wild Girl both detail seemingly positive stories. One of a romance and the other detailing the self discovery of youth. The aspect that ties these together with the remainder of the album is foreboding the feeling that the other shoe will drop. It's as if Sam has played this game before and sees how it ends. Sam sings wistfully in 10-4 about a relationship that clearly was in the past. Wild Girl both celebrates the carefree nature of youth, but also condemns it by revealing the consequences. There's a duality in the song. Perhaps a cognitive dissonance. I'm not sure. It's abundantly human. That touches me.
Songs like Kids lament the murky waters of embracing adulthood by oneself. The social media hooked offspring of the helicopter parent generation that grew up in dead malls and lifeless cul-de-sacs and were never given the space to grow up properly are now confronting adulthood. Williams puts it most eloquently.
“We're just kids/Too cool to grow up, too dumb to stay young… There's a lot of fake pictures on the highlight reel/ a lot of fake love to make you feel like/ your better than the others/ or at least just as good…
…So ironic/ We want to feel connected, so we pretend to care/ Cause we're so freaked out when nobody's there/ We're just kids…”
The album is littered with sharp details that stick deeply and sharply describe the cold, dark, and lonely side of the modern experience. The deluxe builds on and fleshes out the strengths of the original album. Usually deluxe albums feel unnecessary. I wouldn't say that this is a needed addition but it is a welcome one. I'd recommend listening to the original version first. It feels more potent to me. It's a tighter listen. If it resonates, then absolutely check out the Deluxe version. The expanded version of Bullet Blues is just perfect.
Fin.
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Joe
Amazing choices here. And amazing writing as always!