More Volt-age
Jay Farrar's country still rocks
by Roni Sarig
Back in the late '60s, guitarist/songwriter Gram Parsons (occasionally with
fellow travelers like the Byrds and Flying Burrito Brothers) fashioned an
unlikely kind of Southern hippie music by merging his C&W heritage with the
rock counterculture of the time. In the early '90s, Uncle Tupelo staged a
similar kind of shotgun wedding, except that the rock sounds they drew on came
largely from American punk and postpunk bands of the '80s: Black Flag, the
Minutemen, the Replacements, R.E.M. It started a trend variously called
alterna-country, insurgent country, or twangcore. Some, though, give credit to
Tupelo when they label this latest rock/country marriage "No Depression."
Besides being the title of an old Carter Family song (and now of a popular
alterna-country fanzine), No Depression (Rockville) is the name of Uncle
Tupelo's 1990 debut album. In the three years since the group's break-up,
entire legions of "No Depression"-style bands have emerged in Uncle Tupelo's
wake, including two Tupelo splinter groups -- Son Volt and Wilco, led
respectively by former Tupelo frontmen Jay Farrar and Jeff Tweedy -- and bands
like the Bottle Rockets, Whiskeytown, and the Old 97s. The best of these groups
share characteristics: reverb-juiced guitar licks, high-energy
acoustic/electric strums, aching vocal harmonies, and lyrics about loss and
redemption and the wages of sin. But Son Volt stand above the pack, as their
1995 debut, Trace, and the just-released Straightaways (both
Warner Bros.) attest. Although the rest may be able-bodied clones -- and Tweedy
takes an ambitious turn toward AOR/pop songcraft with Wilco -- Farrar and Son
Volt have maintained contact with their authentic country-rock and punk
roots.
Farrar comes across as somewhere between indifferent and indignant toward the
glory posthumously afforded his first band. "It's all everyone wants to talk
about, especially people who never saw Uncle Tupelo or just found out about it
through Wilco or Son Volt," he says dryly and quietly over the phone. "They
tend to romanticize it quite a bit. The reality of it was, it wasn't that
romantic. There's never a direction mapped out for either band, we just take it
as it comes."
Fortunately, Farrar's self-professed lack of vision has not hurt him so far.
Continuing a path away from his punk impulses (evident at least three years
earlier in Tupelo's acoustic album March 16-20, 1992), Trace
alternated between the traditional country folk of "Windfall" and the
guitar-soaked roots rock of "Drown." Although Farrar's abandonment of Tupelo's
high-speed hootenanny perhaps made Son Volt sound like just another
country-rock band, Trace's songs were good enough to propel them to the
front of a pack occupied by other fine neo-roots groups like the Jayhawks.
Reached by phone, Brian Paulson -- the producer who was behind the boards for
Uncle Tupelo's final album, Anodyne (Sire/Reprise, 1993), and
continues in that role for Son Volt (he also produced Wilco's 1995 debut,
A.M.) -- offers further insight. "Trace was kind of a proving
ground for Jay, of being able to do it on his own. It was a hard record to
make. It was all new members in a band that hadn't really played together
before, people trying to find a common ground all within a week, basically. And
it was kind of tough. There's quite a bit of tension on the record, I believe,
though a healthy one, and it definitely worked."
Straightaways is a milder, more wistful affair, despite the driving
guitar riff that kicks off the first tune, "Caryatid Easy." Dominated by
midtempo songs like "Left a Slide" and "Creosote," the album uses acoustic
strumming and slide guitar or pedal steel to create a more spacious, though not
radically different, sound. Although Farrar's songwriting is perhaps less
memorable here, his vocals sound more expressive than ever.
"Some people might miss the tension of the first album," Paulson says, "but
there's a certain amount of grace and confidence in the new one that I think
makes up for it. Being out on the road and having Son Volt acknowledged and
revered has really helped Jay personally . . . he's a lot more
outgoing now." No more Depression.
Son Volt play the Paradise this weekend, April 26 and 27, with Slim Dunlap.
Call 562-8800.