Category: American Folk


The Music Spectrum Notebook Series digs into my handwritten notes and reviews on older releases still getting my attention.

It’s called Wartime Favorties, and the album cover features what seems like Rosie the Riveter doing lingerie/boudoir photos. It’s a masculine, mechanized, and stylized look (with a nuclear mushroom cloud in the background), even while it is also feminine, seductive, and softly curved.

Judging the album by its cover does tell you a thing or two about Ruby Rendrag’s music. Like Joan Jett, it’s a combination of masculine punk and feminine sexuality—although many of Rendrag’s songs lilt along more like folk than punk. Rendrag has a pop cleanness to the melodies with Suki Kuehn’s cello adding a whole other dimension, augmenting the songs with strings much like Alejandro Escovedo who gets so much rocking out of a fiddle and cello.

Rendrag’s voice is most reminiscent of the indie Kelly Snyder (see below) whose fragile voice and piano combine in a fiercely strong stance against the world that threatens to take her by storm. Rendrag has that same fragile voice that can also escalate to a storm warning.

“Anything You Are” rocks up the folk song, but makes it immediately apparent that there’s a place for the band to enter into this mix. Rendrag’s vocals are double-tracked, and when played live, she would do well to have another female singer to create that same effect. The song then lands into Kuehn’s cello-led hard rock riff.

“Long Way Up” has a nice blues sparkle to a pop rock jam. The highly unmeditative “Meditation” is the kind of meditation I appreciate. “I’m Gonna Go Crazy” has jazzy bounce with great upright bass from Allen Maxwell. “W-26” has a country folk walk. “High and Dry,” the Radiohead tune, comes from an Indigo Girls-like place.

Ruby Rendrag


Jenn Franklin’s Errors and Admissions
Like Rendrag, Jenn Franklin is reminiscent of Kelly Snyder. Franklin’s 2006 Errors and Admissions is a 6-track CD with a few good songs and a few mediocre ones—which is probably why I didn’t initially review it. However, after listening to Rendrag and remembering Synder, I couldn’t help but also recalling “What Took You So Long,” Franklin’s lead track which blazes with that fragile intensity of Snyder. Her songs also recall Michelle Branch and Charlotte Martin’s pop moments. In fact, “Impasse 900” makes it clear that Franklin might be a Martin disciple. The songs often employ production elements to raise up her voice to an ethereal space, much like Chasing Furies did.

Jenn Franklin

Reprint: Music Spectrum Review of 2005’s Oxygen from Kelly Snyder
Coming from a fragile place, Kelly Synder’s sings at the piano as if she’s either in a NYC apartment drowning out the city noises (“Nothing’s Ever Right” speaks of “clammy sidewalks” on a rainy day) or in a lake home overlooking the water (“Fall” includes the line “Lookin’ across the bay”). Her Oxygen album (Mother West) finds comparisons to the piano-led tunes of Rufus Wainwright, Charlotte Martin, and Rachel Yamagata. “Rescue Me” hits at Wainwright-like series of concluding chords early in the tune, and periodically throughout, as if the song will be over before it starts which matches the hopeful-turning lyric. A light dance beat is the backdrop for “I Don’t Know,” which has a R&B chorus where Snyder can show a little scat in her vocals. Additional production adds creepy whistling bottle rockets on which increases the ache in the tune. Like vamping over a George Winston piano line, Snyder adds her soulful melody to “So Bad” which deeps down deep into longing.

The Music Spectrum Notebook Series digs into my handwritten notes and reviews on older releases still getting my attention.

Despite the misfires, there are four tracks on Andy Ditzler’s Songs for Yes and No that demand attention. With the piano of Carole King’s Really Rosie and deadpan vocals, Ditzler does storytelling comedy developed musically. These songs are from a multimedia theater production originally performed in 2002.

“Economics” has the storytelling of Peter Mulvey with a bit of a David Wilcox voice as he speaks. It’s a novelty pop commentary about the record industry which makes me want to give plenty of attention to the independent Ditzler.

“Another Customer” covers the frustration of being on hold and getting lost in customer no-service voice mail hell. It’s a topic explored by many comedians, but Ditzler does so very well so that I imagine using the song in a devotion about serving others. “What Language is That” is an excellent song with stop-and-go jazz bumps that tell the story about language. There’s also some free association like a dream narrative which makes it appropriate to hear a similarity to Roger Waters’ The Pros and Cons of Hitchhiking. Finally, “To Know You Better,” with its reference to thinking before voting, sounds like the School House rock song of a blogger.

Andy Ditzler
Frequent Small Meals

Celebrating 2007 witha Look Back at Todd Snider

Todd Snider’s Peace, Love and Anarchy (Rarities, B-Sides and Demos, Vol.1)

It’s the humor that grabs you on songs like “Nashville” and “Combover Blues” from Todd Snider’s odds-‘n’-sods collection, Peace, Love and Anarchy (Rarities, B-Sides and Demos, Vol.1). The album even starts with Snider’s chuckling intro for “Nashville.” He’s witty, intelligent, and a twangy, country, folkie.

Yet, Snider can also pin you back in your seat with a healthy melancholy. You could sing the words of “Amazing Grace” to the tune and rhythm of “Feel Like I’m Falling in Love,” which recalls the Gospel hymn with Snider’s theme and the line, “I’m not afraid of my heart breaking/I have paid that price before/All my mistakes/Add up to nothing.”

One step further and Snider writes his own Gospel tune with “I Will Not Go Hungry” (“I will not walk out on your highway/I will not wonder where I’ll sleep/I know I will not go hungry/The day that Jesus comes for me”) which works to speak the Good News because of that melancholic sweetness.

The humor isn’t without introspection. “Combover Blues” hits home in its reflections about age when Snider says, “It just blows my mind to hear myself say/‘God, what’s the matter with these kids today?/This crap they play’s just way too loud and rude.’” Whether or not you were a smoker or a rocker when you were younger, you know what he means that certain things don’t have the same appeal or rush as you outgrow them.

With a John Gorka sound, Snider sings about going to the doctor on “Some Things Are” with his same humor (“The doctor will see you now is not what that means/It’s a smaller room with even less magazines”) even as he comes to the conclusion that the medical answer doesn’t change anything about love and family.

Finally, Snider’s treatment of Jerry Jeff Walker’s “Stoney” hits a Greg Brown feel for this song about an old busker. The tale of Stoney leads to the conclusion that he’s just a liar. But despite the untruth of his stories, Stoney kept everyone going with his “old concertina” that’s “all beat up and she played like hell,/Until you got him started singing those Gospel songs.”

Could it be that Stoney is a prophet who speaks more truth in those Gospel songs than anyone guessed? The speaker doubts all of Stoney’s stories, but in the end, does he also doubt Stoney’s Gospel songs and their effect? Snider’s version makes you wonder if Snider himself isn’t that old busker.

Todd Snider
OhBoy Records

John Wesley Harding’s Dynablob 3: 26th March 1999, an entire, unedited recording of a show at Berkeley, California’s Freight & Salvage, gave a definitive feel of being at the show—an intimate sound with enough stage banter left as part of the recorded version to capture the moment. While I can testify to this because of actually being at the show, with Patrick Fitzsimmons, I wasn’t at the show but his LIVE The Birthday Shows (2006) appears to have delivered us to show.

Fitzsimmons (formerly From Good Homes) has an Ellis Paul-type folk sound with John Mayer’s voice. On these performances, he is beautifully backed by Rob Meehan (bass, guitars, vocals, melodica), Ned Stroh (percussion) Loni Bach (cello, vocals), Leena Gilbert (violin), and Tom Askin (piano, vocals). Fitzsimmons has some of the guitar chops of Peter Mayer, especially apparent on a song like “Come to Me.”

“Two Birds” is a picked tune again reminiscent of John Wesley Harding in the Trad Arr Jones era. Fitzsimmons even makes a melodica joke with Meehan that comes surprisingly close to a joke that Harding makes with Robert Lloyd during the Dynablob 3 concert.

Fitzsimmons lays out wonderful ballads, but his up-tempo songs are where his flashes of guitar brilliance shine. “Drive” has a 50’s feel as a rollicking, upbeat, folk song that kicks you out the door to get you to the sock hop.

Thanks to Patrick Fitzsimmons for the review CD.

What did we come out to see on August 17 at La De Da Books in Manitowoc? A guy talking about his truck? No? A hick from the sticks telling stories from backwoods Wisconsin? Yes, and more than just a storyteller. Michael Perry drives his humorous, small town, farm tales like a plow deep into the earth of your “heartfield.”

You may just think Perry is waxing poetic about cows and softball tournament beer tents, but he’s actually talking about you—what makes you tick (or stop ticking), what inconsistencies you consistently maintain, and what pains you keep hidden by a gruff, muscle T-shirt, beer gut exterior.

In his books, Population: 485 and Truck: A Love Story, and his music CD, Headwinded, Perry writes creative non-fiction—stories from his own life experience albeit with an author’s dose of creative embellishment. At La De Da, Perry sang three songs and shared about a hour’s worth of readings and stories.

Perry doesn’t overtly take his stories for a spiritual spin, but his characters are on a deeper journey. In fact, Perry mentioned that his book due sometime in 2008 is a memoir about growing up in and eventually leaving an obscure, fundamentalist, charismatic Christian sect. Spirituality has left its mark on Perry so that as his characters reach dead ends, they also contemplate whether there’s a way out of the ditch.

There’s a reason Jesus used stories (parables) as he taught. Stories catch us off guard, so that without noticing it, we examine our own faults.

On the song “Somewhere Out in Mudbrook,” Perry creates a conglomerate character drawn from the strange people who lived in a lonely parcel near his hometown of New Auburn, Wisconsin. The result is a story about “the last authentic completely unusual man,” and yet, as Perry said, “You might recognize your neighbors” in the song.

In the Mudbrook man’s offensive, contradictory beliefs, you might even recognize yourself, and then the story has done its work on you. You came to hear a hick story, and you leave repenting of your offensive positions and needing salvation from your own contradictions.

Studying a storyteller like Perry may not reveal specific truths from the Bible, but a follower of Jesus would do well to see how a great storyteller works his craft. It is in the stories we tell—non-fiction, fiction, and creative non-fiction—that we speak the truth that we know. As you tell stories about your life, will others hear your own contradictions and sins that need forgiveness? Will others hear the love and forgiveness of Jesus? If they do, they’ll be caught off guard and begin to see themselves in this tale called the Gospel.

This article is reprinted with kind permission from the Manitowoc Herald-Times Reporter, Saturday, August 25, 2007. www.htrnews.com Thank you to Michael Perry and the Longbeds.

How can preaching a blunt message of God’s Law sound so good? Ask Pat McCurdy, because he exposes our misdeeds and gets the crowd to sing along enthusiastically.

McCurdy is a singer/songwriter and a regional favorite because of his humorous, audience participation shows. Playing at the Sail (Young Professionals Network) gathering at the Maritime Museum roof deck on Friday, August 10, McCurdy sang “Ruin My Life” which got everyone singing the chorus: “Tonight I wanna ruin my life/I’m going to throw it all away in a spectacular way…I’m going to do something dumb and I don’t care.”

It could be a “throw caution to the wind,” “let’s get crazy” anthem of the partying crowd except that they lyrics remind you of the morning after realities: “I know I’ll miss the family/Miss the house, the dog, and the Jeep Cherokee.”

A lot of rock songs and dance club favorites get you thinking about hooking up, getting drunk, getting high, and leaving your responsibilities behind. Here McCurdy draws you in with a song that sounds just like that idea, and then he turns it around on you. He reminds you that no matter how much sex, drugs, and rock ‘n’ roll you have tonight, tomorrow you’ll face a wasted life. One time of following through on doing something dumb could mean the losing a spouse, children, parents, extended family, job, and house.

How many other popular singers get you to second guess your plan for a weekend bender, a one night stand, a little something on the side, or leaving it all in Las Vegas?

A friend at the show Friday tried to convince me that McCurdy tones it down and plays church camps. Although that’s not true, my friend thought that might make me as a pastor feel better about being at the adult-themed show.

However, I’d let McCurdy play “Ruin My Life” at a church retreat, because his playful song makes you realize how much you could lose by following a desire for a quick high. We already have ruined lives because of our sin, and McCurdy’s song points out how close we often come to making things even worse.

Yet, God takes our ruined lives and makes them renewed lives. He sees the pains we cause ourselves by our actions, and He forgives us through Jesus Christ. He watches as we hurt others around us, and He works His Spirit of love in us so that we can seek to be restored with family and friends. In our sinful desires, we want to keep ruining our lives, but because of Jesus working His will in our hearts, we see that what we really want is to have a renewed life through Christ.

This article is reprinted with kind permission from the Manitowoc Herald-Times Reporter, Saturday, August 18, 2007. www.htrnews.com Thank you to Pat McCurdy.

Does Highway 61 go through Cincinnati? Because it seems the Ohio-based husband-wife duo of Tasha and Justin Golden known as Ellery connects with that fabled road of the blues in a crossroads of folk, jazz rock, faith, and temptation.

Performing at Cup O’ Joy—Green Bay, Wisconsin’s Christian coffeehouse venue, Ellery filled the room with their engaging songs which are far less direct than perhaps expected by the Christian radio crowd usually drawn to Cup O’ Joy. The evening’s host was even prompted to offer a half-veiled apology saying that Ellery communicate the Gospel in a different way—emphasis on different–perhaps meaning among other things that they don’t say Jesus very often in their lyrics.

Yet, introducing “Perimeter,” Tasha explained how the song comes from the fact that there are “no easy answers to the pains…Life is full of beauty, but it is complex and difficult,” so it is “better to write about it and sing.” She talks like any other folk artist as she points like a prophet but not with the precise dagger of Christian artists. Like David Wilcox’s approach, Ellery delves into the mystery and questions prompting a search for a grace being slowly revealed.

This is the kind of music our churches need—even more so considering that Ellery presents a fresh sound as well.

Even though they perform only as a duo—Tasha on piano and Justin on guitar, they play in such a way as to recall the full band sound of their albums. They began the evening with “Shadows in Your Eyes” which has a percussive feel even without the drums.

Tasha is Karen Savoca to Justin’s Pete Heitzman, although you can also hear Sarah Masen in Tasha’s voice. Additionally, on a song like “Anna,” there’s the jazz lilt of Charlotte Martin on the verses, while “Just One” has a growing, walking line reminiscent of KT Tunstall. The Martin/Tunstall sound came forward most prominently on “Pieces” with its scat-like lines as Tashsa moved in and out of head voice. It’s an urgent song with a haunting piano like and a final chorus that threatens to fall apart trying to deliver the full force of the song.

The Highway 61 connection comes on the bluesy tunes like “Arizona” and “Skeletons Outside.” The latter has hopeful chords and a driving tempo with just a bluesy hint on the edges. It also has a great line recognizing Jesus in His humanity: “Little more earthly than I’d like to believe.”

Ellery also doesn’t shy away from love songs—between two people not just love songs for God. Tasha called “Lucky” a “little love song,” but it has a rock heart. “Song for Lovers” is the kind of marriage song a couple really needs—truthful, honest, but still rising, emotive, and joyful.

Finally, Highway 61 does go through Memphis, so it is no surprise that a few country elements also appear. “Long Coat On” reminds me of my friend Emily Dunbar’s music (check her out!!!), although perhaps it helps you more if I say it has the country-jazz bounce of Bruce Hornsby & the Range.

Ellery included a new song, “So Lonely,” a sad country ballad with just enough folk elements. Yet, you could still imagine slow dancing cowboys holding onto their women for dear life while their buddies aren’t looking. Ellery presents God in that same way—while your guard is down, you find you’re holding on for dear life to that hope offered.

Thanks to Ellery and Virt Records for the review CD.


The gentle voice of Dorothy Scott greeted us as she began the Art of Music set at Manitowoc, Wisconsin’s Acoustic Fest on Sunday, July 15, singing her song, “Waterboy,” like a quiet call in the hills looking for a long-lost helper but not yelling to loud so as not to wake the sheep.

After two songs alone, Scott was joined by her Art of Music partner for the evening, pat mAcdonald. With his stomp board, harmonica, and buzzing Lowebow (cigar box guitar a.k.a. Purgatory Hill Harp), mAcdonald is anything but gentle. The pair launched into Neil Young’s “Tell Me Why” with a goal of waking up those sheep and waterboys.

The Art of Music is a series of shows mainly in Door County, Wisconsin, although the idea seems to extend elsewhere when Scott takes to the road. Combining different artists and styles, the impression the Scott/mAcdonald set gave is a of workshop on stage. There was no set list, and when the pair chose to sing together, they were often teaching other as they went. You could tell they love to collaborate, but the show was about discovering their collaborating not about seeing a well-rehearsed product of collaboration. In this sense, it was most genuine, enjoyable, and revealed the art of making music.

Unfortunately, for the crowd, the art may have been lost on them. After an afternoon and early evening of local favorites, many attendees packed up their folding chairs when the unknown (in other words, not from around here) folks took the stage. With a dwindling crowd, Scott and mAcdonald did their best to connect, but even the festival organizers were hard to convince. They talked loudly to their friends just off to the side of the audience, drinking beer, showing relative little attention towards their headlining guests–even almost missing Scott’s thank you and dedication of a song to them. It’s the kind of thing that makes me think the art of music is lost on my Manitowoc.

And there was art in the music. As I wrote elsewhere, Scott and mAcdonald laid down tones able to conjure up whole spiritual dimensions. That’s art. mAcdonald led Scott through a stomp blues revival that landed briefly on different classics–”Baby, Please Don’t Go,” “See That My Grave is Kept Clean,” “After Midnight.” After each excursion into a song, mAcdonald would bring them back to his stomp vamp. It was like blues dreams coming back, rising up in front of your vision to be vivid and strange, and then sliding back into the ethereal.

Elsewhere, Scott played a version of Van Morrison’s “Caravan” that kicked it up onto a clap-along rhythm matching her stage presence which is a bit manic, slightly anxious, but truly endearing. At times her voice even seems to have a touch of an Irish brogue furthering its tender, fantastical qualities.

Yet, on “Pass It On,” Scott displayed an urgency like an early Shawn Colvin. The folk singer format may hide the blues ready to come growling out of her music and voice. If let loose, she may even have that acoustic thrash folk of Hamell on Trial.

Calling upon a song from Steel Bridge Songfest, a songwriting workshop and concert to save a bridge in mAcdonald’s Sturgeon Bay, mAcdonald took a bluesy walk into something akin to John Lennon. But when the Beatlesque sounds faded, and mAcdonald played “My Little Dark Angel,” it was as if Neil Osborne from 54*40 had arrived with the song’s post-punk turn of phrase (“My little darling/my little dark angel”) and a bluesy core.

When Scott invited mAcdonald to join her on John Prine’s “Angel from Montgomery,” I kept imagining that mAcdonald would be wicked on that guitar if left to really let loose. It’s not what we got at Acoustic Fest, and he even said after show it wasn’t the right event to let it all fly. However, I am eager to see him where the amps are cranked high, although given his wandering and false starts, I’d really like to see what he’s like being led by a band to follow that wicked streak out to its rocking flame.

Thank you to Dorothy Scott and pat mAcdonald for the review CDs.

I have never liked the phrase “heaven on earth”—until I heard Dorothy Scott sing those words at Acoustic Fest in Manitowoc, Wisconsin, on Sunday, July 15.

Scott, a singer/songwriter now based out of Door County, sings with a tender, almost fragile voice that’s similar to Nanci Griffith and Shawn Colvin. In her song, “Pass It On,” she says, “Heaven is right here on this earth.” It is a much more highly charged and challenging song than the old Christian campfire tune of the same name. She is painting a vision of love transforming the world now—not just in the next life. By the power of song, she compelled a Jesus-led desire in me to share God’s love with this world.

Then Scott’s co-headliner, pat mAcdonald, took the stage. mAcdonald, writer of Timbuk 3’s 1986 hit, “The Future’s So Bright I Gotta Wear Shades,” lives in Sturgeon Bay playing dirty, rocking blues. mAcdonald plays a cigar box guitar, a literal cigar box fashioned into a guitar-hybrid instrument also called a Purgatory Hill Harp.

Despite Scott’s “heaven on earth” vision, the foreboding, bass-driven sound of the Purgatory Hill Harp brought me back down to reality. I’ve never believed in purgatory, but there are qualities of purgatory here in this world. In the dirty, stomp blues, I saw this world as “purgatory on earth,” a waiting room where we wait through struggles and suffering, waiting to be saved from the dark, brooding, foreboding tones of this world and be lifted up above the blues, lifted up to eternal life. We aren’t just waiting for “heaven on earth”.

Of course, as we wait for eternal life, God calls on us to do His will on earth, a similar goal to Scott’s “Pass It On,” and Scott’s song comes like an encouragement of this call. But we can’t be overconfident in our ability to make this world heavenly. This world is filled with the dark blues of sin. We can’t be lifted out of those blues by our own actions.

Our “heaven on earth” goals are stunted by “purgatory on earth” reality. This came together when Scott and mAcdonald sang Blind Willie McTell’s “Nobody’s Fault But Mine.” This old blues standard lays the blame squarely on our sin. It is our fault that this earth is a foreboding purgatory. God has given us salvation through Jesus—the promise of eternal life even as we live on this earth, but we are tempted to walk away from this gift. In Scott and mAcdonald’s music, there is both heaven and purgatory on earth, and this is our spiritual reality. We are all waiting for Jesus to lift us out of our blues and into His wonderful light.

This article is reprinted with kind permission from the Manitowoc Herald-Times Reporter, Saturday, July 21, 2007. www.htrnews.com Thank you to Dorothy Scott and pat mAcdonald for the review CDs.


A month ago I talked about a new music choice for snowstorm listening. That same week, a second day of a winter storm meant another opportunity to snowshoe to work and meant finding more new snow day music—Mary Karlzen.

It seems odd to talk about snow music now as I post this from Calvin College, anticipating a day of 60 degrees and sun here in Michigan. However, perhaps it’s still appropriate. I had to drive a part of the Lake Michigan Circle Tour to be here—albeit the express, Interstate version—but the connection is strong with Karlzen’s album.

I was predisposed to find an affinity with Mary Karlzen’s The Wanderlust Diaries because of the back cover photo of a Lake Michigan Circle Tour road sign. Because I live on the shores of Lake Michigan, the picture meant the roots rock songs would take on a hometown feel while also pointing to that intense draw to explore. Anytime that I see those Circle Tour signs, even though they’re just six blocks from home, I’m tempted to just keep driving until I’ve been around that whole big lake. If I ever succumb to this spur of the moment trip, Karlzen’s music will be the perfect accompaniment—a bit more country than you might imagine for the Midwest but finding a rhythm that rides right along the shores of the Great Lakes.

If the Circle Tour photo wasn’t enough to capture my support, Karlzen covers the Replacements’ “Skyway.” Kicking up more of the two-step rhythm hidden in Paul Westerberg’s ballad, Karlzen seems right at home next Westerberg looking out the windows of that walkway above the city street. The song features guest backing vocals from Garrison Starr. Karlzen goes on to somewhat borrow Westerberg’s picking pattern from “Skyway” for her own “Friends Along the Way.”

I have an intense dream to produce a cover album of Westerberg’s ballads—more tender than anyone might have dreamed watching the Replacements fall apart nightly on stage in various stages of drunkenness. Karlzen’s version of “Skyway” proves just what a worthy project this would be. . . .

The Wanderlust Diaries rises out of a Country rock sound that could simply recall Mary Chapin-Carpenter, but that is too narrow. She can add a bluesy swank like Tift Merritt, Theresa Andersson, or even Maria McKee. When Karlzen slows things down, Lucinda Williams is caught driving off into the distance.

Yet, beyond that Country-influenced Rock circle of women, Karlzen can drift towards an American Folk air—especially given her whispery vocal tone “Show Me” recalling Nanci Griffith or Shawn Colvin. “Jump” could emerge beyond any pigeon-holed music marketing and land with its pop-flecked roots rock. As she kicks up a beat on “Oh My,” Karlzen makes me think of the playfulness of Erin McKeown.

Ah, and then there’s another cover: Tom Waits’ “Heart of a Saturday Night.” While Waits took you to that rain soaked, beer soaked place, Karlzen—along with guest vocalist singer/songwriter Matthew Ryan—certainly leads the lonely camel to a lonely place to drink. Here’s the song for the night on your Circle Tour drive, pulling into a small town that’s already closed up, and wondering if the sheriff will bother you if you pull into the wayside to sleep in your car.

Thanks to Mary Karlzen and Dualtone for the review CD.

Follow

Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.