A driving bam-bam-bam-bam and the way the the track 'The Devil and Maggie Chascarillo' drops in I can't decide whether this is Phil Lynott fronting the E Street Band or Clarence Clemons guesting with Thin Lizzy. In fact, it's Memphis band
Lucero. After a few bars the Lynott impression fades but the E Street heritage remains right the way through. Heritage is too weak a word for it, this lot sound like they are setting out for the title of "Memphis's very own Springsteen." Do a little research and it seems like all too many US cities lay claim to their own local versions of The Boss.
The promo notes with this release -
1372 Overton Park - tell us this is produced by Ted Hutt. You'll maybe need me to tell you that he also produces the Gaslight Anthem, and then it's no surprise at all. In the Gaslights' case, although they unashamedly come from the Bruce school of writing, they have their own firm identity. With Lucero my internal jury is still out - do they have enough of their own essence to make it worth the time? The liner notes go on to claim this album as being a paean to Memphis's musical heritage, and that's a great idea. The horns which feature so prominently are played by session musicians who have all the right Memphis connections from Al Green to Cat Power. I'm a fan of delta blues. Here, unfortunately, I'm still getting bigger echoes of New Jersey.
Whatever, this has its roots firmly in the good old 70s. It's not alt-country or post-rock, just honest to goodness fully leaded petrol driven blues based rock. Of it's own genre it's a really good example. The band have been plugging at it with success since 1998, playing 3 or 4 gigs a week across the States and back again. They claim a punk influence, but are surely thinking more of the Pogues than the Pistols. This album marks their major label debut, the first of a 4 album deal with Universal Republic
I feel churlish writing what I have, when there is so much obvious effort and polish in getting this record out. It's not a bad record by any means, and if certain other bands didn't exist, it might have been terrific. My fear is that this album just doesn't have enough to raise it above the literal hundreds of excellent bands getting up and playing blue collar rock'n'roll every night of the week in clubs up and down the land. Ben Nichols has a deep gruff voice, nicely satisfying, even if it is a minor surprise that he gets to the end of the record without growling his way down to laryngitis. The playing is great, their live heritage shows.
The tracks on the album? I've got problems here - the promo copy of the album has them all mixed up and in the wrong order, and importing into iTunes / Gracenote hasn't fixed the problem. So I can't comment on the tracks, I've been round them half a dozen times, but my sense of the running order, still an important thing in an album, is completely thrown. I'll review it in the order I've got it. It should start with 'Smoke' but mine starts with 'The Devil and Maggie Chascarillo' - the one that starts off sounding like Thin Lizzy. It rocks along with a nice side order of minor chord honky tonk piano in amongst the horns, and repeatedly makes pleasing references to Love and Rockets - the band I think, not the comic book, nor the strip club. Great evocative lyrics in any event.
The fast pace continues through the next track, then slows considerably for 'Can't Feel A Thing' - a song of what was once love, turned to numbness, and the album's first of more than one reference to high heeled shoes. Wistful is the word. 'Sounds Of The City' (I think that's the one) has a lovely long piano intro reminiscent of 70's The Who, and is another song of lust and longing. Much of the album is an anthem to working men's choices - 'What Are You Willing To Lose' indeed. 'Sixes and Sevens' has a decent rocking blues chug.
A nice balance carries on through the album - more songs of love and redemption, "chasing women and drinking whiskey" pretty much sums it up. I haven't got a stand out track, although closing number 'Mom' is notable for its total lack of embarrassment, reassuring their revered mother that wherever her boys may end up, they won't ever lose their values. In the UK, we'd only ever do that if we got home slightly drunk.
Really, if there was nothing else to listen to this would do just fine, especially as a soundtrack to fixing the Chevy out in the yard. Lucero have got many many fans who appreciate their honest and simple approach and can connect to them. It's conventional and doesn't try to be anything else. Maybe I can't possibly ever really get it from my European cultural stand point; perhaps if I was born in Tennessee instead of just visiting now and again I would understand better. But to say what I think, this is good, not great. It lacks something that I truly wish it had, to raise it up from the masses. That's the loss I feel.
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