If things have seemed squirrelier than usual, Mercury has been retrograde since December 10th and it went direct yesterday. Whoa, what'd you say? Whatever does all that mean, anyway? Who knows! I don't know that I believe celestial bodies being able to predict the future and all that, but Mercury Retrograde, now that's another story, as it is said to disrupt travel and communication. So if things have been out of whack, we can blame it on the planets and move on. After all, it is just in time to ring out the old and ring in the new. I hope that you have made some fond memories in 2010, even in the midst of tough stuff going on in the economy, on the job front, with the housing crisis, not to mention all the other things that might have befallen someone you know, or even you for that matter. Here is to an end that will yield a new beginning.
The song for the last day of the year is from Hans Rotenberry, who tells us how it came to be.
"I think it was when I had my cat spayed that I first said 'so long, sweet bitch,' hoping her behavior would change. It struck me as a good title. Then I wrote the words and had them around for a while, then my oldest cat died, one I'd had for half my life. So I got to thinking about all the Roy Orbison tearjerkers whilst digging a cat's grave, then all the music came. So I used the sadness of Max's passing to add to the, uh, emotional authenticity, or something. It's my mom's favorite tune of mine. I dedicate it to her all the time. Mom gets the joke. Amen."
Remember to take inspiration wherever you can. Goodbye to 2010 and hello to Hans Rotenberry, recorded at Americana Fest in Nashville this past September. "So Long Sweet Bitch."
I’ve put off writing this article for months. I wanted to be sure the CD I received in the mail really sounded like I thought it did, that my mind wasn’t just playing tricks on me. Is it really this good, I thought, or am I just digging hearing songs I co-wrote? I didn’t want to blither sycophantic hyperbole prematurely.
So it’s been a while now, months! Months of starting the record from the top, going through all 14 songs, starting it over, listening again, starting songs over mid-way just to repeat a nice moment, digging a sequence that makes every song better than the one before it, and just marveling in general.
I’m going to say something now that none of you are going to believe, but as a life-long fan who has written extensively about them, and having listened to this record enough times now to know I’m not crazy, here it is: Halcyon Times is the best record Jason & the Scorchers have ever made. Better than Lost & Found, better even than Fervor. If I’m lying, I’m dying. You in the back, sit down. I’m actually serious here.
Fervor had it easy. It was only seven songs and one of them was a Dylan cover. Halcyon Times is twice as many songs, no covers, and each song has something to offer that is equal to anything on that sacred EP of yore. Hand on the Bible.
More points in its favor: Dan Baird & Brad Jones.
The guitar partnership of Warner Hodges and Dan Baird that started with the DB & Homemade Sin record has extended into the Scorchers. Dan appears on almost all the tracks and – just as these two have already demonstrated on the Dan Baird & Homemade Sin record – the marriage of one of rock’s most distinctive twang-shredders and one of its best-ever rhythm players is the best thing this side of AC/DC. It adds a whole new dimension and thrust to what Jason & the Scorchers can sound like and still be Jason & the Scorchers.
There are textures on this record, the harmonies, the ever-so-slight pop touches that are Brad Jones’ signature, and it makes these tracks into something more than another hard rock record. It’s still Jason & the Scorchers and it’s still in your face, but there are little decorations in the sounds that come from a different realm and are something you’ve never heard before on any previous Jason & the Scorchers record.
Photo Credit: Tony MottramJason’s vocals are the most multi-faceted of his career. The almost spoken-word slurs in “Twangtown Blues” are a new turn of phrase for the plain-spoken/sung Midwestern twangster maniac we all know and love. And Jason sang all his vocals at the same time the band was laying down the track, a first at Brad Jones’ behest. The immediacy shows.
Their lyrics have always been great in a plain-spoken country-western way, but the sharp wordplay that flies off of this platter is a personal best. (“Tonight he’ll kill a six-pack, just to watch it die!” “I beat on the mountain, but the mountain doesn’t say a thing.” “He’s a moonshine guy in a six-pack world.”) People live whole lives in single lines. I’m proud to have been on the writing team, in consort with Jason and Warner, or Jason and Ginger (from England’s Ginger & the Wildhearts. No late name, just Ginger), or Warner and Dan, or Al, or everybody who contributed.
The rhythm section of Pontus Snib (drums) and Al Collins (bass) were the guys with the difficult gig here, as in having big shoes to fill. If anyone wants to come against me on my “best ever” claims over this new record, it would have to be how there will never be another Perry & Jeff, and that’s true. But there can be a rhythm section that rocks like hell all the same, which Pontus and Al do.
“These are golden days!” Jason sings in a voice that is joy itself. And they are. Will this record make you a 19-year-old Kappa Sig seeing Jason & the Nashville Scorchers open for R.E.M. at the 40-watt in Athens? No. But these are golden days. Growing older is not a bad thing. If it was, there wouldn’t be so much of it. Get this record if you’re a Scorcher fan, or better yet, give it to a friend. “God bless, God save, golden days!” Indeed.
People are posting their best of the year, and it highlights just how hard it is to keep up with everything that is coming at us these days. Here is a fan-generated Top 500 from No Depression. Instead of looking at just this last year, last night I did a search for some tasty nuggets from the way back machine in my brain to see if I could find a few titles digitized, or even on CD. There is a soundtrack that I would love to get my hands on again, from the film Steelyard Blues, with Nick Gravenites and friends. But I ain't gonna buy the vinyl for $500, or CD for $450. And then there is an amazing record from 1970 by Kathi McDonald (with Sly Stone!) called Insane Asylum that I need on my iPod! I love the mental trips down the cobwebbed synapses to find some of the music through the years that was especially meaningful. Recently I had a snippet of chorus in my head for a month before I figured out what it was, and then located it. Hate when you get a song stuck like that, but it sure feels good when the AHA moment comes!
Photo Credit: Vicki FarmerAs Music Fog gets ready for the new year, including our imminent trip to MusicFest at Steamboat and beyond, I am looking around at the new acts we want to bring you in 2011. Yes, of course we will have returning friends in for more video sessions. It is with anticipation that I think about getting introduced to new artists that, as I write this, we have not yet heard of, though. And when I think back on this year, one of the people I am most happy to have brought you is John Fullbright. I had been hearing the whispers from music biz people about him, long before I saw him play, and months before we had him visit us on the Music Fog bus. Our first encounter was at Folk Alliance in Memphis this past February. It was an abbreviated affair, as he had to run to perform at a showcase. Then we had the pleasure of a visit during the Cherokee Creek Music Festival in May. I am attaching his upcoming tour dates, though you might just have to make it to The Blue Door in Oklahoma City if you are near there or passing though, as he plays there often. We can hardly wait to see what the future holds; may his star burn bright in the coming year. Here's a new, unreleased song from our Cherokee sessions on the Music Fog bus with John. We're not sure if this is the working title, or the one that will stick, but he calls it "The Flower Song."
The song for the last day of the year is from Hans Rotenberry, who tells us how it came to be.
