09.10.06

The grass is always bluer on the other side of rock n’ roll

Posted in some albums we done liked others we ain't - September 10th, 2006 at 5:40 pm by Cricket

A while back our pal and NE correspondent, Ethel, hooked me up with a copy of Trampled by Turtles’s Blue Sky and the Devil. Before listening, I did my requisite research online, somewhat half-assedly, and though I don’t remember exactly, I suspect I saw “bluegrass” and laid the album aside until recently. [Wait, weren't you saying something last night about how bluegrass was "pure" music or some other hogwash?—Mimi] [You must be high. And confusing me with someone.—Cricket]

See now, I don’t really like bluegrass. I can’t say I dislike it. I certainly respect it. I spend a ridiculous amount of time (which is to say any) thinking over what about bluegrass rubs me the wrong way. Part of me wants to boil it down to Del McCoury infamously telling Steve Earle there’s no place in bluegrass for profanity, implying, I believe, that bluegrass should be family friendly and righteous. That idea alone is enough to make me stubbornly dislike something. Plus, I genuinely like to think that there’s fucking room for profanity in everything. [Old folks are like that. You might be familiar with them. They're the ones shaking their canes at you when you stumble down the street drunkenly cussing like a sailor.—Mimi] Anyhow, it isn’t just that and I can’t completely pinpoint the source of my dislike, but it feels like maybe the bluegrass community in general takes itself too seriously. I’m not saying bluegrass is without humour, cause it isn’t, it’s just that while it can laugh, maybe it can’t laugh at itself? [Um, ok, maybe the issue is that you've been watching too many documentaries in black and white about stony-faced hillbillies or reading too much Steinbeck? It could also be the sacred music angle, but in my experience sacred music is full of joy when you look past all the GOING TO HELL parts.—Mimi] [I'm not saying there's no joy, I'm saying there's no inwardly directed amusing mockery from the generalized community. And I'm probably wrong, I'm just not wrong for the reasons you say here.—Cricket] [I think it's more that their humor is not our humor, so it's a world full of in-jokes we don't understand.—Mimi]

So along come Trampled by Turtles turning bluegrass upside-down for me. I think there should be a better phrase to describe their music than ‘non-traditional bluegrass.’ Something cooler that admits the aesthetics of rock n’ roll and still contains the heart of bluegrass and doesn’t sound stupid. [Whenever you say "sound stupid," you know you're leaving the door wide open for me to be a smartass, right?—Mimi] C’mon now, I’m taking suggestions for this. This upside-down bluegrass is still considered “crossover” music. I mean that this is original music in a sense, but at the same time it isn’t too different from what the Avett Brothers are doing, or the Hollyfelds or a handful of other groups out there. And for now, I’ll lump all this music under alt.country, but lately it feels like labeling artists with that will make some people less likely to listen to it and all I want is for as many people as possible to find this music. It’s just harder to sell something in conversation when I have to explain music as “a punk, rock n’ roll, bluegrass, traditional country kind of fusion,” or something more corny that’s surely come out of my mouth at one time or another. For now I’ll settle on hardcore bluegrass and still be vaguely dissatisfied. [Why don't you make up something neologist like "Cornpone?" Just make it up completely. "Bierak." "Perumphal."—Mimi]

What’s the point here? Oh yes, don’t like bluegrass for my own snitty, stubborn reasons, but man do I love Blue Sky and the Devil. I love it like I love pie, marionberry pie, [Wasn't that the mayor of DC?—Mimi] [Marionberries. My grandpa grew 'em.—Cricket] made by my grandma, late in summer, served with homemade vanilla ice cream and eaten on the patio while the local Little League team plays on the field on the other side of the fence and trains whistle as they roll by farther away. A lot of love for this record. It’s four boys in Minnesota playing guitar, banjo, mandolin and bass, hard and fast. It’s lyrically both interesting and still full of conventional bluegrass and country themes. Right away it’s good, and it’ll grow on you until it’s great. [Wait, these guys are Yankees? I would never have guessed.—Mimi]

The first track that really struck me when I listened to this album was the love song, “Codeine.”

It’s dark where I’ve been staying
Don’t you worry and come on in
I’ve finally found a friend
Codeine, you’re the nicest thing I’ve seen for a while

[Very close to lyrics by Townes.—Mimi]

My appreciation here isn’t just for the humorous and somewhat painful lyrics, or for my own love of things that calm me down (mmm, whiskey), but the twist makes it good. It’s when they come to the line “you can keep your words of wisdom to yourself” that I fell in love with the song. It’s a rock n’ roll drug tribute tied to loneliness and joy and it just really works for me.

“Burn for Free” starts out aggressively and keeps a fairly frantic pace. This is definitely rock n’ roll played on bluegrass instruments to great effect. Honestly, after half a dozen listens, I’m still even sure what this song is about. I just know I want to listen to it more and more and more. It satisfies me like angry punk did when I was sixteen. Something underneath the song pulls me in.

I would say the lyrics are a huge part of what makes this music so spectacular, but the instrumentals, “Chippin’ at my Jones” and “Dog on a Leash” are possibly my favorite tracks on the album here. The picking style and the speed and emotion that comes across in them is exactly what I want from music. I can feel a story in it, in the melodies and cadence. To say it’s uplifting is trite, surely, but there is a sort of expansion of my soul that comes from listening to these tracks.

The title track, “Blue Sky and the Devil,” stands out with its classic country music subject matter and its slower rhythm. It’s about going home, taking love with you and leaving behind the desolate feeling of wandering (or touring) though the song still carries a little of that sense of isolation, like the singer knows you really can never truly go home, but you’ll try anyway.

“Dyin’” hits more of a traditional stride, at least in its lyrics. It has a lively, bouncing tune paired with lyrics of death and inevitability, a pairing that I actually love in more traditional bluegrass. “I’m alone when I’m running, I’m alone when I’m down, I’m not often right, dear, but I’m less often lyin’.” They manage to make a sad song here that doesn’t bring me down. It’s a song form that feels honest to me and the way it’s done here is very appealing.

[You know, I think I could make two conflicting arguments about the nature of this music. One is: is this "bluegrass" because it's got banjo? Is all music with banjo bluegrass? No. Two is: is all bluegrass by its very nature music played by old dudes in suspenders smoking old cigarette butts and praising the Lord? No, not really, that's just the stereotype. [No, it's bluegrass because it's played with a mandolin, guitar, banjo and bass with each instrument alternately playing solos while the others just back up and because it doesn't have drums and it has multipart vocal harmonies. And don't all bluegrass guys just look like old hippies anymore?—Cricket] [I'm not convinced that any song played by those instruments would necessarily be bluegrass.—Mimi]

We discussed this vis-à-vis the Avett Brothers and their experience in the bluegrass community, and how bluegrass musicians treated them poorly, but I think that’s just an internal problem amongst those people. They cling to what they know because change is annoying and troublesome (the very extreme example of this is Civil War reenactors who seem to forget that, um, indoor plumbing is good and so is penicillin).

Trampled by Turtles (dudes, please change the name of the band) are sort of a major evolutionary leap in that they are a synthesis of an old-fashion musical delivery system combined with modern sentiments. It’s some good stuff.—Mimi]

If you’re around California or the upper Midwest, check the tour dates for these boys. The incomparable CD Baby has their albums. There’s also a new live album which I can not wait to get my hands on. Hello universe, please to be giving me much more music like this, okay? I promise to be good, or least work on figuring out exactly what it is you want from me. Thanks.

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