This next
album made me think of an old friend who moved to the United States a few years
ago. She lives in Tulsa now, and while I think of her from time to time, I only
write rarely, and I’ve never visited. That’s on me. Hopefully I’ll see her
again when the madness that is this pandemic ends.
Disc 1385 is…. High
On Tulsa Heat
Artist:
John Moreland
Year of Release: 2015
What’s up with the
Cover? DID YOU WANT TO KNOW THE
ALBUM TITLE? WELL, HERE IT IS. IT’S HIGH ON TULSA HEAT.
Seriously, John,
there’s no need to shout.
How I Came To Know
It: Just
me digging through his back catalogue. This was the hardest one to find, and I
eventually special ordered it through my local record store. I guess I could
have done that all along but sometimes I like to hunt for a while first.
How It Stacks Up: I now have four John
Moreland albums. I like them all, and given that they’re all fairly new to me,
it’s hard to rank them. But since you’re not here to listen to me equivocate, I’ll
say “High on Tulsa Heat” is…third. There.
Ratings: 3 stars but almost 4
“High on Tulsa Heat” is John Moreland’s love letter to his home state of
Oklahoma. Of course, this being John Moreland, most of the stories he chooses
to tell are about unrequited love. That’s just how the man rolls.
There are three things you can count on with a John Moreland record:
Moreland’s gravelly, mournful voice, emotionally infused guitar playing and top-grade
songwriting.
First up is the voice. Moreland’s voice is a rumbling big block V8
engine, that runs on grief. He isn’t going to climb through three and a half
octaves. Hell, he doesn’t even use falsetto. However, what he does he does
well. He has the voice of someone who was up all night drinking bourbon and
beer alone in his apartment. It doesn’t speak of healthy living, but it sure
gives him the right amount of hurt and regret.
His guitar playing is sneaky good. There’s nothing spectacular going on,
but it is laden with feeling throughout. He hits the notes and chords with hard,
deliberate playing. The combination is stark and desolate. The hurt in the way
he plucks each string is like an underground river, sequestered and surviving deep
under the hard pack and away from the desert sun.
The heavy focus on Oklahoma lends a cohesiveness to Moreland’s imagery. It
is so pervasive that the landscapes feel like a character unto themselves. Listening
to songs like “Hang Me in the Tulsa County Stars” and the title track,
you get the impression that Moreland’s home is an old familiar friend, sitting in
the background and not saying a lot, but whose presence is reassuring all the
same.
Of course, Moreland can’t resist sadness, and the record is replete with
him making impassioned pleas to lovers who have already rode off into the
sunset. Song titles like “You Don’t Care For Me Enough To Cry” are early
and accurate confirmations you’re in for some heartache. Moreland could come
off as maudlin, but instead he just sounds honest. On “You Don’t Care…”
he even admits “I’m so damn good at sorrow” even while acknowledging that
particular talent isn’t what he needs to win her heart back.
There are lots of great lines on the record, but for me the self-destructive
opening of “Cherokee” is the best:
“I guess I got a taste for poison
I’ve given up on ever being well
And I keep mining the horizon
Digging for lies I’ve yet to tell.”
So there you go. He’s got plenty of sad characters, but most of them are
self-aware and OK within that reality.
“High on Tulsa Heat” doesn’t possess the same outstanding level that a
couple other Moreland records do, but it comes damned close and is well worth
your time. It’ll also make you want to go visit Oklahoma, even if you don’t have
a friend living there.
Best tracks: Heart’s
Too Heavy, Cleveland County Blues, White Flag, Cherokee, American Flags in
Black & White
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