In his book Invisible Republic, cultural critic Greil Marcus compared the music made by Bob Dylan and the Band in the basement of that legendary house in Woodstock, known as Big Pink, to “the old weird America”.
Marcus reasoned that the true map of the imagined republic was captured in the old folk, blues and country songs of the US, introduced to many modern listeners through Harry Smith’s Anthology of American Folk Music.
Two recent releases feel swamped in the feel of old weird America and, if the modern music industry allowed for a character like Smith, the two artists may just make the cut for a new album series of American music.
The first release is the third album by singer-songwriter Alela Diane, who hails from Portland, Oregon. Born to musician parents in the gold-rush town of Nevada City, California, Diane grew up singing and it was no surprise when she picked up a guitar and began to write her own songs. What was a surprise, however, was how fantastic those songs would be: 2006’s The Pirate’s Gospel and 2009’s To Be Still were magnificent albums.
Taming the demons
Now we have Diane’s third offering, Wild Divine (Just Music). The song Opener to Begin sounds like it could have been recorded for Rumors, if Grace Slick was a member of Fleetwood Mac. A warm, gorgeous song about taming your demons and deciding to turn things around in your life, it is so damn addictive that it was almost the only thing I listened to for a week.
This is not Diane as we know her from her previous albums, which were hushed, intimate folk records. This time she is backed by a full country-rock band that add touches of keyboards, light percussion and electric guitar to her songs.
She also got married between her last album and Wild Divine, to Tom Bevitori, the lead guitarist in her new band.
Songs like Suzanne illustrate this album’s indebtedness to the Nashville sound, whereas songs such as Elijah show off Diane’s folk influences. But it is when the two meet somewhere in the middle, as on The Wind and Of Many Colours, that the real value of this magnificent album becomes evident.
Instantly hooked
The second album that harks back to the old weird America is Oh the Days (Just Music), the debut of Pennsylvanian-born Larry D Brown, who is based in Brooklyn, New York.
Brown, a singer-songwriter who records under the moniker Grey Reverend, recently signed with the Motion Audio Records imprint launched by Cinematic Orchestra’s Jason Swinscoe.
It is not hard to see why Swinscoe signed Grey Reverend; his voice is achingly beautiful, reminiscent of both Tracy Chapman and José Gonzáles. Opener Altruistic Holiday is the perfect introduction and if you are not hooked within two minutes this album is not for you.
Recorded over three days in Brown’s apartment, he describes Oh the Days as having very few tricks. And he is right — it’s just Brown, his guitar and your ears.
Drawing influences from songwriters such as Elliott Smith, Grey Reverend’s songs can become a bit moody, but the singularity of his acoustic guitar and voice pierce through the darkness like a ray of light in all the right places.
Little Eli is one of the standout tracks on which Brown shows off his guitar skills, owing a debt to legends such as John Fahey, and Like Mockingbirds feels so fragile it makes you feel guilty for listening in.
A new wave
Oh the Days is a bold statement for a debut album and should place Grey Reverend firmly among peers such as Bon Iver, José Gonzáles, Sufjan Stevens and Fionn Regan.
Bob Dylan may still be on the road at the age of 70, and the Band’s Robbie Robertson has a new album out too, apparently. But just as they did in the past, a new wave of American songwriters are reimagining the rich musical heritage of their homeland.