a coherent collection of random statements regarding God, words and tunes

The Old J. Henry (Burnett): Still Marching Up to Zion

     Mention the name T Bone Burnett, and if the response isn't a blank stare, any number of thoughts are liable to have occurred.

     Rock-and-roll Svengali (or Rasputin, depending on yr viewpoint).

     The guy who got Dylan "saved." (As with a lot of comments in this particular entry, the quotes are for the benefit of advocates on both sides of the question.)

     Six-foot-six dude who puts out an album every five or nine years to critical acclaim from everyone but those who sharpen their "rock and roll lifestyle" axe in response to the pointed moralizations of his lyrics (cough cough, Rolling Stone, cough cough).

     Best Danged Producer on the Planet. The short list: Elvis Costello, Bruce Cockburn, Tonio K., the Counting Crows/Wallflowers claque, Roy Orbison, Tony Bennett, k.d. lang, Alison Krauss, Gillian Welch. Then of course, there's the Grammy-winning O Brother, Where Art Thou soundtrack (and the even better one for Cold Mountain).

     The recently former Mr. Sam Phillips (whose own eclectic pop masterpieces he arguably did his best production work on, by the way).

     Whatever: The guy's had a most unique 30-or-so year career. And he's done it his way. And quite the circuitous way it's been.

     So, after lurking in the production shadows -- if finally getting widely recognized for it can be called lurking -- guy puts out his first album(s) in nine years. One's a two-disk retrospective, the other a two-sided CD/DVD of brand-new material. Both are gonna cost you more than the norm, but I'm telling you to get them anyway. Here's why:

 Twenty Twenty: The Essential T Bone Burnett is a pretty accurate title, whatever way you look at it. Two disks -- 20 songs apiece -- from his '70s Alpha Band days straight through his last studio album The Criminal Under My Own Hat to plenty of unreleased tracks to cover the difference. (One could in fact argue that Criminal is represented a bit TOO well -- 9 songs, and none of them are the XTC-with-a-death-wish-ish "I Can Explain Everything.") To have a bunch of this back on CD -- particularly ample amounts of the best cuts from Proof Through the Night and Trap Door -- makes it worthwhile right there. (Truth Decay and T Bone Burnett get plenty of air time here as well.) And anyone needing a copy of the truly cool "The People's Limousine" (done with Elvis Costello during the King of America sessions) need look no further.

     My one kvetch would be the lack of selections from The Talking Animals (1988). Three songs, and none of them are the title song or the song trumpeted by Tonio K. fans as one of the best songs he OR T Bone ever wrote, "The Strange Tale of Frank Cash and the Morning Paper." And yet the truly weird and operatic "Image" DOES belong here?

     I suspect you already know whether you want this or not. Whether its tons of refreshing Tex-Mex tuneage, the angular later guitar stylings of Marc Ribot, the straightforward and articulate rock-and-roll of "Fatally Beautiful," the sweet acoustic deliveries of stuff like "River of Love" or "Every Little Thing," or those deft lyrical moralizing two-by-fours (and trust me, the "Nights in White Satin"-as-allegorical-dirge "Hefner and Disney" WILL make you choose a side -- extra hint: these two are placed squarely on the same side; and if you can't figure out who the "wealthy young divorcee" is, you clearly aren't paying the proper attention), there's a ton to discover here. Or, in a lot of my case, take considerable joy in rediscovering.

     Then there's the new one, The True False Identity, complete with live DVD side (courtesy of one Jesse Dylan).

 Basically, T Bone picks up where he left off nine years with Criminal.... Only this time, the acoustic ballads are replaced by fuzzier and bluesier tunes and the electric-assault tunes have added battery to their.... um, battery. And suffice to say the louder he gets here, the better he sounds.

     And also suffice to say that while the diatribes against hedonism, Hollywood, etc., are still intact here, The Tall One clearly has a more than a few issues with the current federal administration as well. In short, he won't be making any new friends here and may even make a few new enemies.

     With that, let's just cut to the closing verse of the vicious, stomping Hendrix-like "Palestine, Texas" (which follows the pleasantly weird but uncompelling reggae of "Zombieland") for one such shred of evidence:

Presidents come and presidents go
They rise like smoke, the fall like snow
Do you believe the things you say?
Your lofty thoughts are filled with hay
What is this faith that you profess
That led to this colossal mess?...
When you crawl out of this self-delusion
You're gonna need a soul transfusion

This version of the world will not be here long
It is already gone
It is already gone....

     From here, lyrically things turn more traditional, while the sounds remain decidedly 21st Century. (Probably a musical statement in and of itself, given its creator's recent reputation.) "Seven Times Hotter Than Fire" is Ribot-driven rockabilly, while "There Would Be Hell to Pay" puts another new twist to the Delia legend Johnny Cash near-singlehandedly resurrected.

     "Every Time I Feel the Shift" is angular and angry reggae, and while some of the opening lyrics are striking ("If we were to pass an Eleventh Commandment / In 20 years people would be shocked to learn / That there has only been 10 / And wouldn't care if there had been.... When you're out for revenge, dig two graves / When you run from the truth, it comes in waves"), it's really all warm-up for the relentless coda that takes up half the song and've done Bob Marley proud:

We're marching up to Zion
That beautiful city of God

     "I'm Going on a Long Journey Never to Return" returns to more familiar T Bone territory -- a catchy yet dead-serious Tex-Mex tune directed at an estranged lover (Sam?):

We've been going back and forth for a long time
We often did the right thing at the wrong time
We have hurt the ones we love the most
Till I wonder, did we ever get that close?...

I can't decipher the questions you ask
I wouldn't blame you for taking me to task....
And I'm gratefdul for every hard thing you've done
I'll never replace you -- next to you there is no-one

I feel your cold breath
I feel your cold breath
I feel your cold breath

      "Hollywood Mecca of the Movies," by now, is self-explanatory, so I won't explain it. 

     The one misstep here is "Fear Country" -- no matter where you come down on the lyrics ("Five years of mercy and two days of grace / It only took a minute to fall on your face... This is fear country / And if you don't believe me, I can prove it."), it's still an endless dirge that goes nowhere. And it takes a couple more songs to fully recover, although the simply and catchy "Baby Don't Say You Love Me" (nice feedback-laden guitar solo) does an admirable job of trying. "Earlier Baghdad (The Bounce)," while not as draggy as "Fear Country," still meanders more than arrives.

     But this album does recover nicely for the last couple tunes. "Blinded by the Darkness" is a shrieking diatribe/psalm that -- again, regardless of where you fall on the myriad questions of church and state (and there's plenty of unlikely allies on both sides, if you're not paying attention) -- gets you sitting back up and taking notice:

The laws of God and the laws of man...
Do we want to inject the concept of sin
Into the Constitution
Is this really necessary?
Does this not make you somewhat wary?
Shouldn't sin be left to the laws of God?

If sin were dealt with my the laws of man
Everone would be in jail for life
In solitary confinement
With no one to go to his bail

You shine your darkness on me
I am blinded by the darkness...

     "Shaken Rattled and Rolled" is a fine and more personal, yet rather stately closer that does a slow-dance along with one's regrets:

I got shaken last evening
And I get rattled sometimes
And I got rolled in the dim light
Of an hour I can't leave behind.

     So here is your man. Make your choice. But Lord knows he's paid his dues to win your trust.

Posted by: burninglight at 18:43 | link | comments