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Reckless Kelly: Wicked Twisted Road
With a name like Reckless Kelly and an album titled Wicked Twisted Road,
forgive me if I was taken aback to hear this Austin, TX, quintet was more Steve
Earle ballads than Jason & The Scorchers jam sessions. In fact, it is no stretch
to reference Earle here, as Willy Braun’s vocals are a near dead ringer. Their
fifth studio release is chock full of potential and offers several redeeming
moments, but Reckless Kelly’s underlying inability to inject the project with
lasting life costs them in the end.
“Motel Cowboy Show” is a stimulating romp, with a rollicking Texas two-step pace
and fiddles galore, but it can’t maintain momentum when suffocated by drunken
waltzes like “Seven Nights in Eire” and “These Tears.” The second half of the
project does manage to burn through whatever remaining fuel there is. “Sixgun”
flat out rocks with an opening straight out of Motley Crue’s magazine. “Wretched
Again” is another riff-heavy bruiser that displays the band’s undeniable
strength: hillbilly rock. Kudos to the boys for including a beer-drinking board
game on the back cover of the CD, complete with a tiny red die that tumbles
around inside the plastic casing. Clever.
Ray Lamontagne: Trouble
Once I read the following take on newcomer Ray Lamontagne’s debut, I was hooked:
“His sandpaper croon sounds like church, Van Morrison, and dusty porches.” After
all, who doesn’t need more of that in their lives? Trouble has been
brewing for years, 13 to be exact. It was 1991 when the young Lamontagne began
the demos that would only now become his major-label debut. Producer
extraordinaire Ethan Johns’ Midas touch surely didn’t hurt.
Be warned that nothing here will bowl you over. There are no top-down summer
anthems to speak of and FM will likely turn a deaf ear. But if you and your lady
are on the outs and you need something besides cheap roses or Hallmark to rescue
you, Trouble might just be your antidote. The opening title track is
glorious, lush with strings and Lamontagne’s potent Van Morrison vocals.
“Forever My Friend” opens in a Beatles tone before resorting back to a similar
feel, coolly authentic, like what gave his influences Stephen Stills and Joni
Mitchell their platform a generation ago. “Hold You in My Arms” is the most
upbeat entry and it won’t even cause a sweat to break. Mellow through and
through is Trouble, but the craftsmanship of these songs is so intriguing
that it becomes a journey worth taking and then some. Lamontagne scribes on the
CD sleeve: “Shrewd devil, you know very well that God pardons singers no matter
what they do, because he can simply die for a song.”
Kenny Chesney: Be as You Are (Songs From an Old Blue Chair)
What Ray Lamontagne owes to Van Morrison, Kenny Chesney owes ten fold to Jimmy
Buffett. Forget about the sand and beach balls at Chesney concerts or the song
collaborations on last year’s License to Chill. Chesney is bound and determined
(not to mention plenty capable) to take the tiki torch from Buffett and carry on
as this generation’s parrothead czar. On Be as You Are, he trades in the
pomp and circumstance of CMT cornerstones like “I Go Back” and “When the Sun
Goes Down” for quieter, subtler compositions.
“Old Blue Chair” (two versions herein) is a reworked lost track from the last
record, but everything else is new. Primarily just Chesney and his guitar, cuts
like “Be as You Are” and “Island Boy” are cozy and relaxed, a natural extension
of his rustic songwriting. Gone are the over-the-top video opportunities with
Uncle Kracker, replaced with interjections of crashing waves and steel calypso
drums. On the sing-along “Somewhere in the Sun,” Chesney remarks, “here’s a
toast to you on the coast and the sailors out at sea, drink your ales and hoist
your sails, ride the winds and think of me.” Now if that ain’t Buffett, I’ll
kiss your ass!
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~Red Rocker
redrocker@bullz-eye.com
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