Bluegrass music is known as “high and lonesome.” C. Gibbs’ Parade of Small Horses isn’t bluegrass or even New Bluegrass, but the way Gibbs vacillates between high and low tones would certainly seem to make “high and lonesome” an appropriate descriptor. “Ferdinand” introduces the album with a Chris Rea-like deep, foreboding voice for a somewhat sinister song. Second up is the high tone croon for “Honeywell,” augmented by Stephen Foster style piano.
The highs and lows combine on the third track, “Devil’s Water.” Verses tough talk sin in a rat-a-tat rhythm while everything pauses for the lonesome, voice of conscience chorus: “I couldn’t drink your devil’s water/Because I know devil’s water isn’t right for me/I can’t pretend no longer/When all I want to do is haul her to the grave.” OK, the last line sends you right back to the low, dark side of things, conscience’s croon removed.
C. Gibbs is located well within the expanding vistas of AltCountry’s assemblage of Americana. However, “Two Dollar Ford” lands precariously on the Country side of the Wallflowers rock sound—before Gibbs and company dive right back for the country stomp, “Tenhorse.”
Besides the high and lonesome, Gibbs has taken another page from the Appalachian songbook: the ability to tell vivid short stories in song that ache with loss and love. This is a page Gibbs is taking from literature as well. The title track comes from a line in E.L. Doctorow’s 1930’s mobster novel novel, Billy Bathgate, the narrator looking at the objection of adoration, seeing her binoculars reflect the racetrack horses as they run, a “parade of small horses.” The song somewhat follows this same fawning desire that Billy Bathgate has for Miss Drew. Gibbs takes you to sun-filled fields, courting with great intensity, all in a sepia-toned melody.
In fact, there’s more sepia here than just the album cover. This is music for exploring the dusty, vacant, early 20th century house abandoned to the woods, opening doors to find rusty pots and pan, broken wooden chairs, strange shadows, and holes in the floor leading to the root cellar below. These are song that try to summon the lost stories from the cobwebs—like winding up the Victrolla and having it all come to life.
Thanks to C. Gibbs, Dren Records, Rubric Records, and Caroline Distribution for the review copy.
