CD Odyssey Disc 1386: Steve Earle

Welcome back to the CD Odyssey! This next album is one of the few I bought last year without hearing it first. When Guy Clark’s writing the songs, it’s an easy chance to take.

Disc 1386 is…. Guy

Artist: Steve Earle & the Dukes

Year of Release: 2019

What’s up with the Cover? Another cover by Tony Fitzpatrick. This one has a bird on it, which as we all know, makes all things better. In fact, this is one of the best covers Tony Fitzpatrick has done for Earle. This meant I disliked it a lot less than usual. Make no mistake, I still disliked it. I just disliked it less.  

How I Came To Know It: I had given up buying Steve Earle albums automatically a few years back, when I felt his quality began to slip. However, Earle won me back here by doing a cover album full of Guy Clark songs. I had loved “Townes,” Earle’s homage to Townes Van Zandt, and I was expecting great things here as a result.

How It Stacks Up: I don’t think an album full of cover songs should stack up against regular studio albums. It just seems wrong. If I were to just stack it up against “Townes” it comes in a distant second, though.

Ratings: 3 stars

Timing isn’t everything, but it does matter. Way back in 2009 when I reviewed “Townes” (Disc 28) I had never heard of Townes Van Zandt. I’d heard a couple of his songs along the way (“Pancho and Lefty” for example) but I had no idea it was his song. So Steve Earle’s introduction to his music was a revelation.

Fast forward ten years, and Earle does an album of Guy Clark songs, in honour of Guy’s death three years earlier. The difference is that this time I was well-acquainted with every one of them. This made me a lot more critical of Earle’s interpretations. Sometimes he nails it, and sometimes I just hear the Clark original in the background and wished that it was on instead.

That said, “Guy” is a solid record. Like “Townes” it is hard to go wrong when your material comes from one of country music’s all-time great songwriters and Steve Earle’s love for his old friend and mentor is evident throughout.

The best tunes are the ones that suit Earle’s temperament to begin with. Guy and Steve are like your two favourite, but very different uncles. Guy Clark is the uncle that grills up a mean hamburger at the family cookout, tells you vaguely dirty jokes when your mom is still in earshot, and buys you a Swiss Army knife when you’re still a couple years too young to play with one safely.

Steve Earle is the uncle that argues politics with his brother-in-law, tells you stories about riding shotgun in a Humvee through Fallujah and how he once saw one man stab another man in the parking lot of a Tijuana whorehouse. Like I said, they’re both great uncles, just different.

I should note at this point that Townes Van Zandt is a third cool uncle but doesn’t feature in this comparison; he got drunk at home and missed the barbecue entirely. But I digress…

The point is that Earle is best doing Clark songs that are in his wheelhouse. That tends to be the darker stuff, or the sad romantic tunes. “Desperadoes Waiting for a Train” and “The Last Gunfighter Ballad” are both solid tunes about broken down anti-heroes. Earle elevates them and makes them pulse with heartache.

“That Old Time Feeling” takes full advantage of Earle’s classic southern drawl, and sways in just the right time to make you want to circle around the block if only to play it a second time. “Out in the Parking Lot” has Earle delving back into the country-rock of his Copperhead Road days, which works masterfully. Blasting out a nasty reverb guitar and singing about the grimy activity that happens late at night in parking lots, Earle takes owns every moment of this song.

When the songs really need Clark’s homespun happiness, Earle doesn’t deliver at the same level. “Dublin Blues” is a Guy Clark classic, but Earle’s version feels a bit rushed, and it takes away from the core of what makes the song great; regret and reminiscence.

On “The Ballad of Laverne and Captain Flint” and “New Cut Road” Earle and the Dukes decide to play loose and easy to create the down-home, rustic quality. It isn’t that they’re out of time – the playing is impeccable – but it is hard to match that easy, relaxed quality Guy Clark brought to certain songs. Also, Earle slurs a little in the interests of being organic, and I wasn’t digging it.

Finally, at 16 tracks and 60 minutes, the album is too long. I imagine it is pretty hard to cut tracks when you’re playing covers of one of your idols and closest friends, but that’s the task. Kill your darlings, Steve, or in this case, kill Guy’s.

The album ends on a high note, with a delightful rendition of “Old Friends” with Earle sharing the mic with a host of guest vocalists, including Terry Allen, Jerry Jeff Walker, Rodney Crowell, Jo Harvey Allen and Emmylou Harris. You can feel the love they all bring to the recently departed Clark, who left a lasting impression on many lives with his music, including mine. If Earle’s love-letter isn’t quite at the level he achieves on “Townes,” it doesn’t mean there is any less love to be had here, and yeah, “Old Friends” tore me up a little.

I miss you too, Guy.

Best tracks: Desperados Waiting for a Train, That Old Time Feeling, The Last Gunfighter Ballad, Out in the Parking Lot, Old Friends

CD Odyssey Disc 1305: Guy Clark

I’m in the middle of a pretty wonderful long weekend. It’s raining right now, but I like the rain. The variety of spring and fall are more appealing to me than the sunny days of summer, lovely as they are.

But enough about the weather…let’s talk about the dark.

Disc 1305 is… The Dark

Artist: Guy Clark

Year of Release: 2002

What’s up with the Cover? Sometimes in the dark, all you have is yourself. I think that’s what this fingerprint on black is saying. Anyway, the cover is stark and plain and honest, much like songs on this record.

How I Came to Know It: Guy Clark has an amazing website where you can listen to every album he has ever released for free. It is user friendly and welcoming, and encouraged me to go through his whole discography – 13 albums in all. “The Dark” was part of that journey.

How It Stacks Up:  At the end of the experience I found six albums that inspired me enough to purchase. Of those, “The Dark” ranks #1, bumping early favourite (and my first purchase) “Dublin Blues”. This being the last of my Guy Clark reviews, here’s a recap:

1. The Dark: 4 stars (reviewed right here)
2. Dublin Blues: 4 stars (reviewed at Disc 322)
3. Texas Cookin’: 3 stars (reviewed at Disc 819)
4. Cold Dog Soup: 3 stars (reviewed at Disc 762)
5. Somedays the Song Writes You: 3 stars (reviewed at Disc 655)
6. South Coast of Texas:  2 stars (reviewed at Disc 582)

Ratings: 4 stars

A lot of artists do their best work early in their careers, but Guy Clark is like a fine scotch; he just gets better with age. Counting forward from his first record in 1975, that means “The Dark” is a refined 27 years old. The result is a record with homespun wisdom of an experienced songwriter, combined with songs that make you shiver with the truth.

Guy Clark is one of those artists whose reputation among his peers far exceeds his commercial success. His songs have been recorded by the likes of Steve Earle, Lyle Lovett and Emmylou Harris, but there’s a good chance you didn’t realize it at the time. For those in the know (including those three), Clark is one of country music’s finest songwriters. His voice is a bit gravelly and lacks range, but when you’re working with songs this good it is easy to forgive.

Clark plays guitar on all these tracks as well. He plays with a back-porch mosey that matches well to his vocal style. The overall effect gets your ear focused on the stories Guy’s telling, which is the best way to enjoy this music.

On “The Dark” Clark’s stories run the gamut. Character studies and historical fiction stand alongside songs of love and social justice, all lifted to a high level by Clark’s keen observation, and talent for making small details feel like universal truths.

“Magnolia Wind” is one of the finest love songs you’ll ever hear. If you have someone you don’t want to lose, this song will put some tightness in your throat. The song is replete with the images of loss, none better than:

“I’d rather not walk through the garden again

If I can’t catch your scent on a magnolia wind.”

“Soldier’s Joy, 1864” tells the story of a civil war veteran who becomes addicted to morphine while recovering from horrific wounds. The story is entirely from the soldier’s perspective but shines a light on the horror of both addiction and war with equal dignity.

Themes of aging and the wear of the world feature prominently on “The Dark”. On “Bag of Bones” where an old man opines “this old bag of bones ain’t really me/there’s a lot more standin’ here than what you see” and on “Homeless” Clark alternates the viewpoint of someone who has lost everything, with the people walking callously by and looking the other way.

My favourite track is “Queenie’s Song,” which tells the story of someone shooting the narrator’s dog on New Year’s Day. The song starts harsh and stays that way, as Clark provides the perfect mix of futile anger and sadness at the crime:

“Some S.O.B. shot my dog, I found her under a tree

If I hadn’t loved that dog so much it wouldn’t mean nothin’ to me

You son-of-a-bitch, I’m gonna tell you what, I will not be deterred

I’ll find you out and I’ll track you down, on that you have my word.

“Queenie’s getting’ buried, it’s time to dig the hole

New Year’s Day in Santa Fe broke mean, and it broke cold.”

I’m an avowed cat person, but damn – this one gets to me every time.

Late on the album Clark covers fellow country great and close friend Townes Van Zandt’s “Rex’s Blues”. Van Zandt died in 1997, far too young. Clark died in 2016 which is still too damned soon as far as I’m concerned. We’ll get no more great songs from either of them now, but of all of the great albums Guy Clark left behind, “The Dark” is the best of them.

Best tracks: Arizona Star, Magnolia Wind, Soldier’s Joy 1864, Homeless, Bag of Bones, Queenie’s Song, The Dark

CD Odyssey Disc 819: Guy Clark

Greetings, gentle readers! A quick public service announcement but for the next couple of weeks there will be a lot less entries than usual due to some other writing commitments I’ve got on the go.

Never fear however – the CD Odyssey will continue until we’re done. This is just a temporary slowdown. Check back in a fortnight and we’ll be back at it in earnest.

In the meantime, here’s a review to tide you over.

Disc 819 is….Texas Cookin’

Artist: Guy Clark

Year of Release: 1975

What’s up with the Cover? A very young Guy Clark sporting a haircut from before he went grey, but also from before hair products were available. Guy’s looking pretty sweaty here. It could be just hot out, but I think it might be a bit too much barbecue.

How I Came To Know It: This is another one of those albums I listened to online on Guy Clark’s homepage and decided to buy it.

How It Stacks Up:  I have six Guy Clark albums. “Texas Cookin’” is somewhere in the middle – I’ll put it third.

Ratings: 3 stars

 “Texas Cookin’” is a mix of what makes Guy Clark great and also what makes him maddening.

Clark is a songwriter’s songwriter, and you’ll find his songs remade my all kinds of more famous artists like Lyle Lovett, Emmylou Harris and Steve Earle. There is even an amazing double album tribute to him that is stacked with great material (It is called “This One’s For Him” (reviewed back at Disc 677).

Clark understand how to spin a tale, how to turn a phrase and how to make pretty basic chord progressions in country music new and interesting.

The pretty little love song “Anyhow, I Love You” shows the turn of phrase well, opening with:

“I wish I had a dime for every bad time

But the bad times always seem to keep the change.”

It sounds depressing, but (to bring in the other two points) Clark uses a chord progression that evokes an upbeat quality that showcases the song’s real theme: finding love despite life’s uncertainties. Although it is more directly about knockin’ boots, “It’s About Time” has a similar feel to it and even “Broken Hearted People” – the most depressing of the lot – still has a core of resilience and ‘makin’ do’ to it.

Sorry about that dropped ‘g’ in ‘making’; Guy Clark just inspires you to talk in a down-home kinda way. I guess you should expect that from an album called “Texas Cookin’”.

Unfortunately, this homespun wisdom also holds this record back. At times Clark feels like he’s got a bit too much hokum in his blood. The title track, “Texas Cookin’,” is literally about nothing more than how good barbecue food is. Hey, I love barbecue as much as the next guy, but a song about it should just be about…more.

Also, I know it was 1975 and everybody was filled with freedom and feelin’, but sometimes these songs mosey when they should just get to the point. Clark’s “Broken Hearted People” need to be a little more broken hearted. That element is helped quite a bit by backing vocals from Emmylou Harris, who lends her quavering gravitas to this song and quite a few others.

As for Clark’s vocals, he wouldn’t win any singing competitions they put on cable TV these days, but he knows how to make what he does have work for him. He writes songs to fit into his relatively limited range, and he sings with honesty to the subject matter.

The best song on the album is “The Last Gunfighter Ballad” which tells the tale of an old gunslinger, living in a world that has passed him by. The lyrics of this song are chilling and brilliant and alongside “Dublin Blues” and “The Cape,” are Clark’s finest hour. The song is the character study of a gunfighter sitting at a bar, drunkenly recalling his days of glory:

“Now the burn of a bullet is only a scar

And he's back in his chair in front of the bar

And the streets are empty and the blood's all dried

And the dead are dust and the whiskey's inside

So buy him a drink and lend him an ear

He's nobody's fool and the only one here

“That remembers the smell of the black powder smoke

And the stand in the street at the turn of a joke

Oh remember the smell of the black powder smoke

And the stand in the street at the turn of a joke”

Clark’s delivery on this song is strong and heartfelt, but sadly, once you’ve heard Steve Earle’s cover of this song it spoils you for any other version. That’s not a criticism of Clark so much as it is a recognition of how good Earle’s version is.

Guy Clark is not for everyone, but if you put a premium on good songwriting, and don’t mind a little hokum, you’ll find this album right agreeable, y’hear?

Best tracks:  Anyhow I Love You, Broken Hearted People, The Last Gunfighter Ballad

CD Odyssey Disc 762: Guy Clark

Sheila is away this weekend and I have the house to myself for the first time in what must be over a decade. Maybe I’ll eat some food that’s very bad for me, like a bag of Dorito’s, or watch horror movies or even just listen to music that annoys her (Nightwish? Capercaillie? Jethro Tull?).

It should be exhilarating (hey, I’m easily amused) but it is also a weird and empty feeling. I’m determined to enjoy some alone time but damn it, I already miss her.

Disc 762 is….Cold Dog Soup

Artist: Guy Clark

Year of Release: 1999

What’s up with the Cover? Half of my Guy Clark albums have some version of this album, which is basically Guy Clark and his guitar. This cover also features a dog that seems very happy to see Guy. Obviously the dog is not aware of the alarming implications of the album’s title.

How I Came To Know It: As I noted when I reviewed “Somedays the Song Writes You” back at Disc 655 (click to see Guy and his guitar, pose #2), I listened to all of Guy Clark’s albums through his homepage, and liked six of them. “Cold Dog Soup” was one of the four I ordered online. I feel bad about that, but I do give my local record stores plenty of my love, as well as every opportunity to stock something before I look elsewhere.

How It Stacks Up: I have six Guy Clark albums. “Cold Dog Soup” is OK, but it is still in the bottom half. I’ll put it fourth.

Ratings: 3 stars

The title track of “Cold Dog Soup” is about the penurious and sometimes unrewarding life of the writer. Not that Guy is penurious; he’s got so many songs made famous by other country singers that I’m sure his royalty cheques keep food on the table. In terms of direct fame and fortune, Clark is as my coworker recently coined him; a songwriter’s songwriter. If you love the art of the song, you probably know him, and if you just like to hear a pretty voice, you probably don’t.

“Cold Dog Soup” sums up the lonely frustration of a writer by pointing out that deep down they are a loose fellowship. William Butler Yeats, Tom Waits, Townes Van Zandt, Ginsberg, Kerouac and Ramblin’ Jack Elliott all get mentioned. As the chorus bemoans:

“There ain’t no money in poetry

And that’s what sets the poet free

I’ve had all the freedom I can stand.

Cold dog soup and rainbow pie

Is all it takes to get me by

Fool my belly ‘till the day I die

Cold dog soup and rainbow pie.”

Despite such mild complaints, it is clear Clark loves what he does, and also clear that there’s nowhere he’d rather be than picking a guitar and composing a song. He also has a clear appreciation for music history. In the title track he traces his lyrical style all the way back to Yeats.

On “Sis Draper” he shows his love for the Arkansas fiddle, as seen through the eyes of a wise and wild old fiddler from that state. The fiddle on this song seemed eerily familiar and then I realized it was almost exactly the same tune as Michelle Shocked features on the song “Arkansas Traveler.” Together, Clark and Shocked helped me triangulate yet another great fiddle tradition.

Not a great vocalist, Clark sings with conviction and the guitar work on this album are pretty. When he covers Steve Earle’s elegy to Townes Van Zandt, “Fort Worth Blues” he puts heartfelt feeling into the song that more than makes up for his lack of vocal chops.

Sadly, “Cold Dog Soup” is uneven as an album. None of the songs are bad, but there is stretch through the middle of the album of about five or six songs that mosey around rather than go anywhere. Clark is like your affable uncle; for every good story he’s got in him has another one that doesn’t really go anywhere.

“Men Will Be Boys” is a hijinks song about how men are often immature kids at heart, but it isn’t engaging unless the observation is used to explore something deeper, and Clark clearly isn’t interested in doing so.

“Indian Head Penny” is a cleverly written story about its title subject, but it feels like Uncle Guy has pulled a penny out of his pocket and is busy enthralling the kids’ table with a yarn after having one too many Miller Lite’s at the family barbecue. I got off the damn kids table at the earliest age I could manage, and much preferred the tales drunken uncle Guy told at the adult’s table. Then and now, hearing about a shiny old penny doesn’t hold my attention.

Fortunately, the album finishes with a strong trio of songs, the best of which is “Red River.”  This isn’t about the Red River in Manitoba that Canadians will immediately think of, but rather the north of Clark’s home state of Texas. I’ve never seen the river, but Clark’s song about it, and the people who love it, is damned pretty. Ever the true Texan it is no surprise that the song’s chorus is:

“Red River, I know you of old

You have filled up my pockets with quicksand and gold

Susanna oh Susanna when it comes my time

Bury me south of that Red River line.”

One day that’ll sadly happen, but for now I don’t want to lose my adoptive musical uncle. He sometimes makes me sigh and roll my eyes at his corniness, but there’s no denying his power to tell a tale, and set it to a song with a tune you with a prettiness you can’t resist.

Best tracks: Cold Dog Soup, Sis Draper, Red River, Be Gone Forever

CD Odyssey Disc 677: Guy Clark, plus a Smalls concert review

Once again a giant album necessitated my absence from blogging for a few more days than I would have liked. Given the delay, it seems only right that this entry have Extra Limited Edition Content this time – and I give you that in the form of a concert review for the Smalls. Scroll to the bottom if that interests you, and this album doesn’t.

I admit that despite all this extra content, I am distracted tonight by my two favourite sports teams in the world (the Miami Dolphins and the Boston Bruins), who are both playing their arch-nemeses at this very minute (the hated Buffalo Bills and the equally reviled Montreal Canadiens). I am taping the football game and as soon as I am done here, that’s my next stop. I’d tape both, but I’m afraid one will announce the score of the other while I’m watching.

Anyway, it’s all very nerve wracking, but I’ll try to stay focused on the music for the time it takes to fill you in about the next album on the CD Odyssey. And the Smalls, of course.

Disc 677 is…. This One’s For Him: A Tribute To Guy Clark

Artist: Various Artists

Year of Release: 2011

What’s up with the Cover? Guy Clark with his wife Susanna. This picture was unexpectedly poignant for me, because in the process of confirming Susanna’s name I found out that she had died of cancer in 2012, only a year after this compilation came out. Guy and Susanna were married for forty years. As youthful as they appear in this picture, it is a reminder that we’ve only got so many days on this earth with the people we love, so enjoy each and every one of them.

How I Came To Know It: I only came to know this album very recently. I was listening to some Emmylou Harris tracks on Youtube and her duet with John Prine of “Magnolia Wind” came up on the playlist. After a bit of sleuthing I discovered it was off of “This One’s For Him.” The album’s track list was full of many of my favourite Guy Clark songs, many sung by artists I really admired. I ordered it on Amazon along with three of Guy Clark’s originals. Yeah, there’s been a lot of Guy Clark around the house lately.

How It Stacks Up:  This is a compilation of a bunch of cover songs, so it doesn’t really stack up. As compilations go, it is pretty sweet, though.

Rating: 4 stars

When I rolled this album I was instantly reminded of Guy Clark’s song “Old Friends,” partly because a lot of these songs feel like old friends for me, and partly because I just finished giving the whole album a marathon listen (three straight times through) right before I randomly rolled it. There isn’t a better test than that if an album is going to hold up than a whole lot of listens in a short period of time. “This One’s For Him” performed very well.

“This One’s For Him” was recorded to celebrate Guy Clark’s 70^th birthday, and it is a worthy present for the occasion. Clark’s music tends to be a lot of countrified musing and moseying, expertly done in a relaxed and conversational tone that is uniquely his own. Clark rarely strays from his formula, and so it makes sense that his tribute album is pretty much entirely done by country artists in a country style.

Often on these compilations I prefer to hear a song get a very different treatment from the original, but “This One’s For Him” still works based on the fairly consistent work of the artists involved. There are a lot of artists involved, too, with thirty songs spread across two albums, and over two hours of music. Fortunately, this is one double album worthy of the excess.

Many of the singers were well known favourites for me (Steve Earle, Lyle Lovett, Kris Kristofferson, Patty Griffin) and others were complete unknowns (Kevin Welch, Rodney Foster, Jack Ingram) and I enjoyed both in fairly equal measure.

For the most part if it was a Guy Clark favourite for me originally, I tended to like the cover as well, but there were some notable exceptions. Vince Gill singing “The Randall Knife” just didn’t work at all. Clark’s version is full of the hurt and heartbreak of losing a father, and Vince Gill’s sounds like a hokey campfire performance. Patty Griffin, who I usually love, doesn’t really work on “The Cape” either. Maybe I’ve just heard Guy Clark singing the hell out of that song too many times.

While Guy Clark is not known as the world’s most talented singer, he is a master of emotion and phrasing. He is also a damn fine songwriter, and it is fun to hear his songs done by other artists who can really belt it out, like Suzy Bogguss on “Instant Coffee Blues” Rodney Crowell on “That Old Time Feeling” and the Trishas singing beautiful harmonies on “She Ain’t Goin’ Nowhere.” The often-underrated Bogguss is particularly brilliant as she sings about an awkward one-night stand, filling Clark’s lyrical mastery with a woman’s perspective.

Then again a lot of the other vocalists are just as limited as Clark himself. Fortunately they picked folks with enough folksy charm of their own to pull it off. Examples include a rusty-voiced Kris Kristofferson singing “Hemmingway’s Whiskey” (and sounding like he’s had too much of it over the years), and John Townes Van Zandt singing “Let Him Roll.”

A favourite for me is Steve Earle singing “The Last Gunfighter” as he spits out Clark’s masterful tale of an aging, once dangerous man now lost in a world that has passed him by. It is Steve Earle we’re talking about, so it is hard to go wrong even if the lyrics were sub-par, and with Clark they rarely are. “The Last Gunfighter” is some of his best work.

The album has a lot of favourites, though, and the pairing of fresh voices with great Guy Clark material is a wonderful thing. If you are interested in Guy Clark, I’d suggest starting with 1995’s “Dublin Blues” but once you have his ‘voice’ in your head, “This One’s For Him” will give you a nice overview of some of his classics, sung by the many musicians that his talent has touched over the years.

Best tracks (with artists): That Old Time Feeling – Rodney Crowell, Anyhow I Love You – Lyle Lovett, Homeless – Shawn Camp, Magdalene – Kevin Welch, Instant Coffee Blues – Suzy Bogguss, Let Him Roll – John Townes Van Zandt, Cold Dog Soup – James McMurtry, Magnolia Wind – Emmylou Harris & John Prine, The Last Gunfighter Ballad – Steve Earle, LA Freeway – Radney Foster, She Ain’t Goin’ Nowhere – The Trishas,

Bonus content – Smalls Review! Saturday, November 8 at Sugar

On Saturday Sheila and I went with a bunch of our friends to a reunion concert of the Smalls. I’d only heard a few of their tracks on Youtube, so all I really knew was they played a sort of groove metal/grunge hybrid and that their bass player was Corb Lund. Having seen them live, I now know why fifteen years after they broke up they still have so many dedicated fans.

The Smalls kicked some serious ass live. They were tight, energetic and heavy as hell but still melodic. The show was at Sugar nightclub, which among other lame things 1) scans your driver’s licence through a machine before letting you in 2) requires you to check your coat (although I somehow managed to walk by when they weren’t paying attention) and 3) gives every guy a full frisk/pat down on the way in.

The show itself was like a time machine, but in an alternate universe where everyone had somehow remained cool when they got old. The audience was packed with seriously dedicated Smalls fans, many of them visibly drunk, but still able to sing along and knowing every song by rote. There were even dudes with full “Smalls” back-patches on their jean jackets, which is very cool for a lesser-known band.

The dance floor in front of the stage was crammed with slam-dancing drunks (I was happily up in a balcony). Watching them flow to the music was soothing – like losing yourself watching waves during a storm. No fights resulted, but I noticed that in maneuvering my way in and out of the bathroom everyone was very quick to say ‘sorry’ to each other and show respect – I think it was the knowledge that everyone around you was seriously jacked on adrenaline and…er…Jack Daniels that kept everyone hyper polite off the floor.

In short, it was a great crowd and a great show. I bought all four of their albums from the merch table. I was only going to get a couple, but as I was trying to pick, nearby hard-core fans kept pointing emphatically at different albums insisting that was the one I should get. This went on for a bit, until one extremely loaded dude just waved his hand vaguely over the lot of them and said – “Fuck! All of them, dude” – I took his advice, because I sensed in that moment he was my true spirit guide, and that I could trust him. 

CD Odyssey Disc 655: Guy Clark

This next artist has gotten a lot of attention from me recently – I’ve bought four of his studio albums and a tribute double album as well, all in the last couple of months.

Disc 655 is…. Somedays the Song Writes You

Artist: Guy Clark

Year of Release: 2009

What’s up with the Cover? Guy Clark himself, looking like your favourite uncle over for a visit, and packing his guitar. I don’t have an uncle that plays the guitar, but if I did I’d want him to be Guy Clark. 

How I Came To Know It:  I’d had some bad experiences with Guy Clark, but also some great ones. Recently I found his excellent homepage where he streams every one of his records. This let me go through all of his studio albums one after another. Of the fifteen or so albums, I really liked six of them – and so I bought the four I was missing.

While Sheila originally liked Guy Clark, being inundated with this much at once was a bit much for her, and she’s a bit off him. Not me though – I’m enjoying soaking up all the new Guy Clark in my collection. “Somedays the Song Writes You” is one of those.

How It Stacks Up:  I have six Guy Clark albums, as well as a concert album he did with Townes Van Zandt and Steve Earle, and a tribute album of other artists doing his songs.

It is hard to stack them up, since I bought four of them all at once just a couple months ago, and I have yet to grok them in their fullness. I gave all six studio albums a quick listen again as part of determining where they stand up. “Somedays the Song…” came came out 5^th. I like it, but it isn’t as good as four others.

Rating:  3 stars

Guy Clark songs tend to be about two things. They are either character studies or they’re about some object of some kind. “Somedays the Song Writes You” is a relatively recent album for him, but it follows this same approach, mostly to good effect.

“Stuff” songs on the record are about guitars, whiskey, which I guess you’d expect music to be about, but also coats. The songs are best when the stuff connects to a character, like “Hemingway’s Whiskey” which is less about Ernest Hemingway than it is about tapping into the writer’s isolation and strength. The song does a good job of bringing both out.

Likewise “The Coat” isn’t really about a coat, it’s about getting so mad that you leave a fight and forget to take your coat with you:

“There’s nothing left to take back

There’s nothing to regret

The sooner I get movin’ the sooner I get wet

There’s nothin’ left unsaid nothing left undone

If I hadn’t left my coat I’d be already gone.”

The absence of the coat highlights the narrator’s equivocation. When the song ends on a hopeful note with “think I’ll go back and get my coat” leaving you to wonder if maybe the relationship can be salvaged after all.

On “The Guitar” we’re treated to a ghostly story about a pawn shop guitar that seems to be mystically connected to the customer trying it out. Part metaphor about the calling to be a musician, and part Twilight Zone episode, the song also highlights some very pretty playing from Clark and collaborator and co-writer, Verlon Thompson.

On the character front, my favourite song on the album is “Eamon,” the story of an old salt that has been working on the water since he was fourteen. Old now, Eamon decides to walk inland to die in a place where ‘he couldn’t smell the sea.” The music has lilting roll to it, like the sea itself and I love that Clark has managed to write a sea shanty about not being on the sea. For Eamon, land is the undiscovered country, sending him off with a chorus of:

“Sing fare thee well

Calm seas or swell

Red evening sky

Home and dry.”

As the saying goes, “red sky at night/sailor’s delight” and while the song is about life’s end, Clark makes that end peaceful and appropriate. We all should wish to be sent off so gently.

Not all the songs are so perfect. Clark tackles the subject of “Hollywood” but clearly doesn’t get the pace and danger of the place and it comes off like someone writing a song based on a travel book, not personal experience. For a better song about the same place, go with Concrete Blonde’s “Back in Hollywood.” That’s how it’s done, Guy.

Similarly, “Wrong Side of the Tracks” tries to be a bluesy song about poverty, but it is just a lesser tackling of a topic Clark handles much better on “Homeless” (from his superior release from 2002, “The Dark”).

The album also has a cover of the Townes Van Zandt masterpiece “If I Needed You.” I like Clark’s version, but he doesn’t do a lot different from Townes, and lacks a bit of the desperate need in his voice that makes the song work.

Of all the albums I purchased in my recent glut, “Somedays…” was the one on the bubble for me. I bought it because some of the highpoints are pretty strong, and I like its spirit, but it isn’t where I would start if I was trying to get someone into Guy Clark.

Best tracks:  Somedays You Write the Songs, The Guitar, Hemingway’s Whiskey, The Coat, Eamon

CD Odyssey Disc 582: Guy Clark

Another crazy day, fresh from a work day, straight to a strata council meeting, then a guitar lesson and now I’m finally home to stay and ready to write – get this review out of my system while it is still bubbling at the surface.

Disc 582 is….The South Coast of Texas

Artist: Guy Clark

Year of Release: 1981

What’s up with the Cover? In addition to being a top notch songwriter, Guy Clark has one fine head of hair.  The beard is a harbinger of the grey that is to come, but here Guy has that perfect “Just For Men” combination of distinguished grey and natural colour. Is grey creeping up on you?  Never fear, men – Guy Clark shows you can own the grizzling as it happens and not only preserver your dignity, but look good doing it.  So put that box back on that shelf and exit the London Drugs with your dignity intact.

How I Came To Know It: I knew Guy Clark through both Dublin Blues and the Live at the Bluebird Café albums (both previously reviewed) and I was eager to have something else, so I bought the self-titled third album and…hated it.  That put me off for a while, but I took another chance with “The South Coast of Texas” and it turned out all right.

How It Stacks Up:  I’ve only got two Guy Clark albums (I sold the self-titled effort) and of the two, “The South Coast of Texas” is the lesser effort.  I do plan to get about three more (“Old No. 1”, “Texas Cookin’” and “Cold Dog Soup” are currently on my radar) but that’s for a future trip to the old CD store.

Rating:  2 stars but close to 3

The eighties were a dark time for a lot of different music but none more so than country music.  Guy Clark’s album survives the experience as well as it can, but doesn’t emerge unscathed.

Both the eighties and country music had a schmaltzy quality that fed off each other in a very ugly fashion.  For example, I have a ton of great Emmylou Harris albums from the seventies, but enter 1981’s “Evangeline” and the spell is broken with hokey junk.  The best song on it is “Hot Burrito #2” which is a Gram Parsons seventies number and the second best song, “Ashes By Now” would later be ruined by new country artist Leanne Womack.

Guy Clark’s “South Coast of Texas” came out the same year as “Evangeline” and suffers a similar fate. It has too much of bubble gum pop-style, which Clark has diligently stuck with for years despite it not suiting his gravelly style.

The album has a number of examples of doing it wrong, including “Who Do You Think You Are” which sounds like stodgy old folks having an argument, and “Heartbroke” which although it is about getting over a heartbreak could use a lot more…sadness. I like a good “pull up your bootstraps” song but it should always have at least a twinge of melancholy.  Otherwise the listener doesn’t feel like what you’re recovering from is a big deal. It bothers me that the lyrics are actually pretty powerful, but the arrangement and the upbeat melody makes it all feel just a little too fake, or worse, like some guy who doesn’t get it is giving you a life lesson about staying positive.

So that’s the bad stuff, but there is plenty of good stuff on this album as well, because at his core Guy Clark is an amazing songwriter, and I’m glad I didn’t let his self-titled effort dissuade me.  If it is one thing I’ve learned from artists like Townes Van Zandt and Patty Griffin, it is that those artists who others remake on a regular basis have something going for him.  There is a reason Guy Clark gets to play with great artists like Emmylou and Karen Matheson, and it is that they recognize his brilliance.

There’s a good helping of that brilliance on “South Coast of Texas,” principally on those songs where he turns down the hokey act and lets his soulful understanding of human character come out.

“The Partner Nobody Chose” is a sad and rolling track about a woman desperate for love who has never met the right person. The song plucks (quite literally) along as it moves through an effortless melody that sounds like it was written fifty years earlier but is actually a Clark original (co-written with fellow under-appreciated songwriter Rodney Crowell).

Coming later in the album, “The Partner Nobody Chose” is a nice bookend to the earlier track, “Crystelle,” the character study of a young woman still wild with abandon, breaking hearts right and left with the certainty that there’ll be plenty more where they came from. Barely a woman, but hardly a child, my favourite stanza is:

“She’s a reason to be reckless, she’s the right to rock & roll

She’s exactly what they meant when they told you not to go

Her breath’s as sweet as chewing gum

And her heart’s as cold as kingdom come

She’s heaven sent and hell bent to run

Oh me I fell in love now wouldn’t you?”

This is a song about being over thirty and feeling the warm glow when you get the rare attention – however fleeting – of a twenty year old. You’ll still go safely home to your wife of course (unless you’re an idiot) but it is still a nice feeling.

Another favourite is the title track, which tells the story of the small fishing towns of Texas. The song mixes Mexican and Western flavours with traditional sea shanty arrangements, and the combination is sublime.

As an album “South Coast of Texas” can edge into the trite, but Guy Clark is a master storyteller.  When he fully embraces that role, the album rises above, Clark painting musical portraits of ordinary people, whose stories stand out like splashes of colour on the rich canvas of South Texas life. Like them, I enjoy this album despite its faults.

Best tracks:   Crystelle, South Coast of Texas, The Partner Nobody Chose, Lone Star Hotel

CD Odyssey Disc 322: Guy Clark

My reviews for September have lagged and at this pace I'll never finish the Odyssey. Time to pick up the pace, Logan!

This next disc is one of my current favourites, and was a joy to review.

Disc 322 is...Dublin Blues

Artist: Guy Clark

Year of Release: 1995

What’s Up With The Cover?: A serious looking Guy Clark sits on an expensive looking couch. I like that the guitar on his lap is sitting up high on his lap and pointing downward pointing, in that position you used to always see country artists play it at in the fifties and sixties.

How I Came To Know It: This is another artist from the Steve Earle musical tree. I found a live album a couple years ago called "Live At The Bluebird Cafe" (and even reviewed it back at Disc 231). I bought it for Steve Earle and Townes Van Zandt, but the album had a third artist named Guy Clark. I liked what I heard and so went in search of Guy Clark albums. "Dublin Blues" is the album from the same year as the Bluebird Cafe concert, and has a lot of the same tracks, making it a pretty safe bet.

How It Stacks Up: I only have one Guy Clark album. I did buy his third record, which was self-titled and released in 1978, but I really didn't like it, and sold it within a week. I love "Dublin Blues" so needless to say it is my favourite Guy Clark album.

Rating: 4 stars.

As I mentioned back when I reviewed the "Live At The Bluebird Cafe" album, Guy Clark is a classic singer/songwriter storyteller type. He uses simple, down home language to evoke strong emotions. When I listen to him sing I feel soothed, like that wise old uncle who always seems to have good advice when you need it. The kind of guy who doesn't say much, but when he speaks people listen.

"Dublin Blues" is a great record, that tells stories that run the gamut. The title track is a song about lost love and regret, as a man sits in a pub in a far off country (in this case, Ireland) reflecting on what went wrong over a few too many drinks and cigarettes.

It is a song that sets a sombre opening tone, but Clark doesn't allow himself to wallow, and covers a lot of different topics along the way, including the uplifting "The Cape." It is a song about holding on to your childlike sense of wonder, and not being afraid to take risks.

The last song on the album is "The Randall Knife" the story of a man coming to grips with his relationship to his father through a Second World War combat knife inherited after he dies. It always chokes me up, maybe because of my own failed relationship with my father, or maybe just because the song is real and emotionally resonant. I'm pretty sure regardless of your relationship with your father, "The Randall Knife" will get you in the guts (hopefully not literally). That's what good art does.

All of these songs I already knew from the Bluebird Cafe concert, and so part of me just enjoys hearing the other deeper cuts on "Dublin Blues" that were new to me. In particular, "Stuff That Works" a song about the things in your life that you come to rely on. Although he starts by listing things like an old shirt, a guitar or a reliable car, he quickly extends the metaphor to the people that come into your life:

"I got a pretty good friend
Who's seen me at my worst
He can't tell if I'm a blessing
Or a curse
But he always shows up
When the chips are down
That's the kind of stuff
I like to be around."

I've got a few friends like that, and wise old uncle Guy's song is a gentle reminder of just how lucky I am.

Musically, "Dublin Blues" is a country/folk crossover. The storytelling elements are definitely folk, but the arrangements and instrumentation are classic country. Like his contemporaries Earle and Van Zandt, the songs are very simple in their construction, and easy on the ears. Clark is by no means a gifted vocalist, and he half sings half speaks the lyrics, as he idly plucks his guitar.

I have a hard time imagining going to see him in concert, but I have an easy time imagining having him over and sitting on the back porch and sharing a beer and a few songs with him. Clark's style sets you at ease, and make you want to settle back in a comfy chair and let the afternoon while away.

There are a couple songs on "Dublin Blues" that come off more as songwriting exercises, such as "Hank Williams Said It Best" with a series of unfortunate lines like "One man's hawk is another man's dove/One man's hug is another man's shove" - an idea he takes way too far, with comparisons that visibly strain to rhyme.

Fortunately, these moments are aberrations, and even when they happen, the tracks in question still have agreeable enough melodies that you are willing to indulge Clark his weakness for wordplay.

Because of my bad experience with the other Guy Clark album I purchased, I have been gunshy about getting another record, but when it comes to "Dublin Blues" I have no such reservations; this is a record worth owning.

Best tracks: Dublin Blues, Stuff That Works, The Cape, Baby Took A Limo To Memphis, The Randall Knife

CD Odyssey Disc 231: Earle, Van Zandt and Clark

This week's album I actually brought over to a friend's place on the weekend just to share some of the tracks. Odd that it should be rolled so soon after. Coincidence or conspiracy?

Disc 231 is...Together At the Bluebird Cafe
Artist: Steve Earle, Townes Van Zandt and Guy Clark

Year of Release: Even though the CD was published later, the concert was in 1995, so...1995.

What’s Up With The Cover?: A picture of our three artists. Naturally Townes Van Zandt is in the middle, and naturally he's wearing a shirt featuring playing cards. RIP, Townes.

How I Came To Know It: I saw this album in Ditch Records last year while poking around for more Townes Van Zandt albums. When I saw it had rare live tracks from Steve Earle AND Townes Van Zandt, I had to have it. Because of this record, I discovered Guy Clark - at the time as an afterthought.

How It Stacks Up: This is a live concert album, so it doesn't really stack up against the studio albums I have for the three contributors. Let's just say I like it.

Rating: 4 stars.

"Together At The Bluebird Cafe" was a benefit concert put on by Earle, Van Zandt and Clark in support of the Interfaith Dental Clinic. The Clinic provides free dental services to those who can't afford it, so it was a good cause.

Beyond this, it is a good record. I'm not a huge fan of live albums, but this is one of the better ones I've heard. It is done in a style called "in-the-round" (thanks Wikipedia) which means that the three artists just take turns singing their songs. Although I've never seen video, it sounds like they all stay on stage during each others' performance, and it is quite an intimate venue. I'd give my right arm to have seen this show live (I would've been 25).

OK, I wouldn't give my right arm - but only because I really like having two arms, but I would've liked to have seen it nevertheless.

Each player on the record relies on a single guitar, and the album is very stripped down folk country of the very best kind. Occasionally one artist will back up another, but even this is rare. I also can hear an uncredited Emmylou Harris make an appearance in the background vocals of Guy Clark's "Immigrant Eyes" (is there any album Emmylou Harris doesn't do background vocals for? I hope not...).

Earle is at his best, just having gotten straight after years of alcohol and drug abuse. Timeline wise this record is right between 1995's "Train A'Comin'" (reviewed at Disc 127) and 1996's "I Feel Alright" (reviewed way back at Disc 14). Highlights include understated and humble versions of "My Old Friend the Blues" and "Valentine's Day", and the crowd pleasing "I Ain't Ever Satisfied." This latter track Earle has in his recent tour's set list and is a great time, as he gets the audience to sing along in full throat every time. Let's just say you leave satisfied.

My favourite Earle track, though, is an acoustic version of "Copperhead Road". I've heard this done in concert as well, and I love it stripped down to a single guitar. I think it is how the song was born to be played. My only minor quibble is that for some reason Steve skips the first verse. It's the last song on the album, so maybe their rental of the Bluebird Cafe was up or something.

Van Zandt is not at the top of his game vocally, but the man writes songs that are too compelling to be denied. Also, you get a glimpse of his famous humour, with the most entertaining banter coming from him. In one story he tells of getting drunk and losing a gold tooth in a game of dice. I won't give the ending away, except to say it features vice grips and Southern Comfort.

At other times, Van Zandt's storytelling is bitter sweet. He openly admits that while some of his friends (including Steve Earle) have gotten their lives straightened out, he is still working on it. Shortly after this concert, Van Zandt would be dead, a victim of his ongoing alcohol abuse.

Since I already knew Van Zandt and Earle were great, the find on this record for me was Guy Clark. When I bought the album, Clark was basically the 'get one free' in my 'buy two' purchase. I was to be more than pleasantly surprised.

Like Townes Van Zandt, Clark is one of those singer/songwriters that musicians know and love, but aren't that commercially successful. He is a master storyteller, almost a musical Hemmingway in the way he delivers deeply evocative themes through very simple language.

Standout Guy Clark songs on the record include a song that makes you feel like you can fly ("The Cape"), and a song about the death of Clark's father called "Randall Knife" which chokes me up every time I hear it.

The one I gravitated to on this listen was "Dublin Blues", which is an exquisite song, both musically and lyrically, about the regret of lost love, and how travelling the world will only remind you that unhappiness is portable. It begins:

"I wish I was in Austin, in the Chili Parlour Bar
Drinking Mad Dog Margueritas and not carin' where you are.
But here I sit in Dublin, just rollin' cigarettes
Holdin' back and chokin' back the shakes with every breath."

Hearing Guy Clark naturally made me race out to buy something by him, but I ended up with a 1978 record that I did not enjoy. In fact, I'm selling it and it will be "Disc Not Appearing In This Blog." Fortunately, shortly thereafter, I found his 1995 album "Dublin Blues" which has the studio version of every excellent track on "Live At The Bluebird Cafe" and a few other gems besides.

One of the secrets to a good live album is capturing the right balance between performance (should be most of it) and a bit of entertaining banter (should be used judiciously but not completely ignored). This album strikes the perfect Banter Balance, and captures three artists at very interesting stages of their respective careers. It is a snapshot of musical history not to be missed.

Best tracks: So many, but I'll go with 3 from each. Steve Earle: My Old Friend The Blues, Tom Ames' Prayer and Copperhead Road. For Van Zandt: A Song For, Tecumseh Valley and Pancho and Lefty. For Clark: The Cape, Randall Knife and Dublin Blues.