01.09.07

Worth panhandling and train-hopping for

Posted in drag the river, hot live action, some albums we done liked others we ain't - January 9th, 2007 at 12:24 pm by Cricket

This isn’t so much the first review of 2007 as it is the very belated last review of 2006. The last really cool music related thing (’cause of course I’m so awesome that I did all kinds of other cool things in those last few days of the year) I managed to do in 2006 was to take a spur-of-the-moment drive down to Memphis to see Drag the River perform the last show of their recent tour. They played with Halfacre Gunroom [I loooove Halfacre Gunroom, and have for years. I’m glad they’re getting more exposure!--Salome] and Ben Nichols. Halfacre Gunroom was pretty awesome, the kind emo/punk/country that I’m so fond of, though sadly I was so excited for DtR that I don’t think I gave them the attention they deserve. Rick Steff sat in on accordion with Ben doing his solo acoustic gig and that was, well, beautiful is really the best word to describe it. Later Rick also sat in with DtR, but let me back up a bit.

So I got to Memphis earlier than I expected (don’t listen to Mimi when she tells you I drive like a grandma) [Dear Lord, does she freakin' ever!--Mimi], but luckily I got there just as the Drag the River boys did. I sat at the bar with the bartender and the sound guy while DtR loaded in. The high point of that was surely the gunfight that broke out. Fortunately it was just plastic pellet guns, but I did nearly hit the floor when the sound guy, the bartender, and the door guy all of sudden started shooting at each other and ducking for cover and racing around the bar.

That pretty much set the tone for the whole night.

I got to spend some time talking with Jon Snodgrass of DtR. Or talking to, since he was losing his voice; I kept trying get him to just smile and nod so he could save what he had for the show. Fortunately a hot toddy or two fixed him up pretty well by the time the boys went on stage.

The show wasn’t jam packed, but it was a good turnout for late Sunday night in December. I’m sure everyone who turned up has to agree with me that it was night well spent. It was by far one of the best shows I’ve seen this year. Some rowdy kids who’d driven down from Columbus requested all the songs I wanted to hear. The band played on and on, making it more like a house party by the end of the night. There was a pervasive feeling of relaxation and a bit of joy in the air, perhaps just because the tour was essentially over and there wasn’t much pressure in the immediate future. The added accordion to some of the songs was every bit as amazing as you’d think, perhaps even more so because I can see some of you looking at this and going “Accordion, WTF?” [By some of you, you mean me.--Mimi] [Hey! My mom plays the accordion!--Salome]

Not a month before this Suburban Home Records re-released Hobo’s Demos, DtR’s first album. Being the obsessive fangirl I am, I already had most the DtR catalogue, but not this gem. Luckily not too long before the show, a copy magically appeared in my hot little hands, the best kind of early Christmas present a girl like me could hope for.

I’m the first admit that my DtR love is so overwhelming that I can’t judge Hobo’s Demos as better or worse than other DtR albums, I can only tell you that I love it and try and explain why. It’s got the expected mix of Jon and Chad songs, alternated to good effect, and lyrically it’s every bit as moving as all their other releases.

I drove back from the DtR show in Memphis, alone, on a Sunday night at 3 am, with DtR playing over and over to keep me awake. [She was alone because I was already home for the holidays, not because I flat refused to go.--Mimi]

“Bug Country” has a special place in my heart now because of this.

And I’m coming home next Sunday, pray that I’m still alive
All this late night driving’s really bringing me down.

It’s like Jon was talking right to me!!! And the song is completely about something else–it’s about loneliness, the loneliness of separation more than the simple alone-loneliness that I felt driving that night. The song conjures dark highways, the headlights flashing on the trees as you make a slow curve, how loud the road and the car seem on the empty late-night highway, how passing a truck on a long barren bit of road can actually feel more isolating than just being on the road by yourself. And then, of course, you think of the person you miss the most, the person maybe you hurt the most, or who hurt you and the drive becomes almost unbearable. [You are so emo.--Mimi] For me the song will always be set on I-40.

The lyrics the grab me the most on this album. I have friends who don’t care at all about lyrics and instead look for music perfection. [Lamecore.--Mimi] Musicality is definitely important in good music, but perhaps because I’m so enamored of the written word in general, I find lyrics to be equally as important. [You don’t have to justify this. Pop music is about lyrics.--Mimi] [Lyrics and Bon Jovi.--Salome] Good lyrics sung with real emotion, there isn’t anything better. Jon hits exactly the right combination in “Crutchless” in the way the lyric “And if you’re counting on healing, define which side you’re on” matches perfectly with the emotional tone of his delivery.

“Disbelieve” is a perfect break up song. Anywhere else “It’s too late to say good-bye” might be cliché, but as Chad sings it here, it’s just heart-wrenching. The lyric in this tune that really gets me is the vivid “thorns ripping my tongue.” Wow, I don’t lie much ’cause I’m pretty bad at it, but now I will always associate lying with that line. I think music just cured me of ever lying again. [HAHA!--Mimi] Now if only it could help me with the smoking thing.

“The Bottle” is perhaps the emo alcoholic’s anthem for this decade the way Jawbreaker’s “Kiss the Bottle” was for the previous one. It doesn’t romanticize drinking the way some cowboy songs do. Rather it has just the right mix of melancholic self destruction and vague revenge. And yet it’s hopeful. Oh wait, no it isn’t. It’s depressing as shit. But there are meerkats frolicking on my TV as write this and meerkats make everything seem vaguely uplifting. [Sometimes your corniness creeps up on me and still surprises me. Meerkats? That makes me think of Junebug.--Mimi]

I’ve certainly never dated a musician or married one or anything or–yeah, see I am a bad liar. Anyway for those of us who still haven’t learned better about dating musicians, Jon’s written “Mars Motors” just for us:

said on the radio you’d never take me back
heard every song you sung
well I tried just to hear your voice ringing in my ear
I was wasting time
lungs and heart they bleed awhile
but you never seem to get by

Oh, heartbreak, country songs were made just for you and this one does you justice with its lovely blend of pain, misery, pointless wishing and slight absurdity.

“Nerve Endings” is the weakest link on the album, but that’s like saying it’s just a smaller diamond. Less expensive maybe, but no less brilliant, even if it does sound like it was recorded in someone’s living room after a night of heavy drinking. That’s something that sounds like home to me. And by home, I mean the things that happen at HCT HQ.

Why do sad songs make me so happy? [You’re a goth-emo weirdo?--Mimi] Is it the idea that someone else shares your pain? Like you feel less alone when you realize that so many other people can relate to this song that seems to be exactly how you feel? Perhaps. [This seems to be a common theory in art appreciation of various sorts. Misery loves company and all that. Universal experience.--Mimi]

“Next Time Not Around” is one of those sad songs that make me feel better, though it’s more wistful than really sad. The whole song feels like the point after a break up when you’ve given up the desperate misery and resigned yourself to simply wishing things had been different from the very beginning. You don’t cry anymore, but your friends still come up to you in the bar ask if you’re okay. Yeah, this song pretty much captures that moment in life for me. (And though you might never notice from the music I love the most, or my reviews here, but I swear I am pretty cheerful most of the time, so don’t call out the suicide watch yet. I’m still channeling my inner emo 15 year old girl; she just won’t lay down and die.) [Houston, the self-realization has landed!--Mimi]

“Tomorrow Morning” could have been written by half my ex-boyfriends. I shouldn’t even admit that since most of y’all will probably listen to the song. This song is perfect. It feels sort of like the apology I never got. And yet I’m so removed from those situations now that I can hear it and think, “Yeah, somewhere in there you’re a good guy, I’m sure, but damn you’re an asshole.” I find this very satisfying, so thank you, Chad, for inadvertently giving me closure. Yes, I do like to have all my therapeutic moments blogged publicly, apparently.

The rest of the album falls in line with the delicious goodness I’ve described here, so go on and get you a copy. It will fuel your winter angst until the sun returns in spring. And, hey, I see I’ve picked more Jon songs to talk about here than Chad songs, but really it’s just the day of the week. Written yesterday or tomorrow this would be all about Chad, Jon again the day after, as I seem to switch daily about whose songs affect me the most.

[I would say my biggest criticism of this record is that it all blends together and all the songs sound the same. If you like that one song, you’ll love this record. If not…well. It sounds a lot like an Old 97’s/Uncle Tupelo/your cousin Jimmy’s garage band mash up, and that’s not something horrible, but it’s also not all that impressive to me.--Mimi]

And of course you need to see them live. Drag the River is touring again, west coast in February, east and south after that. There’s bound to be a date in there that you can make, so get on it and get out and see them. Just make sure you bring enough cash to drown your sorrows in whiskey while they play.

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