BUDDY & JULIE MILLER : WRITTEN IN CHALK

1. Ellis County
2. Gasoline And Matches
3. Don't Say Goodbye (with Patty Griffin)
4. What You Gonna Do Leroy (with Robert Plant)
5. Long Time
6. One Part, Two Part (with Regina & Ann McCrary)
7. Chalk (with Patty Griffin)
8. Everytime We Say Goodbye
9. Hush, Sorrow (with Regina mcCrary)
10. Memphis Jane
11. June
12. The Selfishness In Man (with Emmylou Harris)

Label : New West

Release Date : March 3, 2009

Length : 51:09

Review (AllMusic) : Buddy and Julie Miller have been making records separately for over 20 years. During that time, however, despite playing on one another's recordings, this is only the second one they've made collaboratively. Written in Chalk is steeped in American music tradition. Whether it's country, blues, boozy swing, or rock, this husband-and-wife duo lays it all down with authenticity, great humor, and honest emotion. They recorded the set at their home studio in Nashville, with help from old friends like Brady Blade, Matt Rollings, Chris Donohue, John Deaderick, Jay Bellerose, Emmylou Harris, Patty Griffin, and the McCrary Sisters, as well as some new ones, including Larry Campbell and Robert Plant. Julie wrote eight of these dozen songs. They are among the most sophisticated and emotionally resonant of her career - and that's saying plenty. The album opener is the devastatingly beautiful reminiscence "Ellis County," with Buddy's lead vocal looking back to "...when all we could afford was laughter/And two mules instead of a tractor...where there was nothing left to throw out/When there was a light that wouldn't go out...." With Campbell's fiddle adding the high lonesome of Appalachia in the track, one can imagine Levon Helm singing this song, but it's so much more effective with Buddy and Julie. Julie Miller also writes about heartbreak in a singular way. She avoids clichés and, when singing her own songs, doesn't need to over-emote because the truth of them lies in her lyrics and soft expression. Instead, she inhabits her lyrics fully, and one can feel the weight in them as they come up from the depths of the pierced heart of her protagonists and resonate in the mournful grain of her voice. Julie helps out on two such songs, "Don't Say Goodbye," the single most devastating song on the record, and the resigned loneliness of "Chalk." In her song "Long Time," Julie's blues-drenched vocal brings to mind a young Rickie Lee Jones, but without the sass and swagger. For Julie Miller, these lyrics and her melody carry all the power they need; her delivery allows them to assert themselves - and they do authoritatively. The smoky, boozy trumpet solo by Kami Lyle is another highlight. The pair wrote "Gasoline and Matches," which offers an honest and humorous view of a mismatched couple who nonetheless find themselves knitted inseparably together. The evocation of taut finger-popping jump jazz and blues suggests the loungey early stylings of Tom Waits, but the guitaristry belongs to Buddy alone. Plant duets with Buddy on a gritty, slithering bluesy version of Mel Tillis' "What You Gonna Do Leroy." His rootsy vocal is in perfect keeping with Gurf Morlix's lap steel and Stuart Duncan's fiddle. The closing track on this set is another cover, but this time its spiritual resonance is profound. Julie sings both background and harmony vocals with Buddy on Leon Payne's underappreciated classic "The Selfishness in Man," to send the recording off as a haunted reflection on sin. Written in Chalk is a welcome return by one of American music's great - if under-recognized - duos. Buddy Miller's production and guitar work have been well documented on recordings and in the critical vernacular, as have Julie Miller's songs. But together, they are an unbeatable combination and this album is the indisputable proof. Roots music is alive and well, and is being served up red hot here.

Review (Pop Matters) : Buddy Miller may well be, as some prominent voices hold, the past decade’s best artist of his kind. But for all his admirable modesty, you’d never know it. For that reason, a new Buddy Miller record is an important and understated event, like an appearance by the world’s most valuable sixth man. A new record with his talented wife Julie is even more remarkable because in spite of all the collaborating they’ve done throughout the years, this is only their second proper album together. Miller is following up a minor classic, Universal United House of Prayer, and although Julie Miller has been quieter recently — her last solo album was 1999’s Broken Things — the stage is set for a brilliant return. And with Written in Chalk, the pair makes almost every move you’d want them to. Predictably, the twin highlights throughout Written in Chalk are Julie’s songwriting and Buddy’s guitar. Julie’s songs are sharp-eyed swirls of earnest observation, so delicate sometimes that they feel fragile, but always undergirded by sturdy melodies. Buddy’s guitar playing is both uncannily sympathetic and unfailingly economical, a quality honed, no doubt, by all those years as a sideman. Both are endearing, slightly rough-hewn vocalists, and the instrumental support they get is solid throughout. (Two ringers worth noting: Jay Bellerose, one of American music’s most remarkable drummers, makes a too-brief appearance; and Larry Campell, a veteran of Bob Dylan’s Never-ending Tour, Levon Helm’s Midnight Rambles, and Phil Lesh’s Friends, contributes mandolin and fiddle.) Both Buddy and Julie Miller have famously good taste, and Written in Chalk, with its wide range of voices and styles, nicely displays the different modes in which they can work. “Gasoline and Matches” is a dirty roadhouse romp, “A Long, Long Time” is an airy lounge piece. A take on Dee Ervin’s “One Part, Two Part”, with Regina McCrary singing backup, is a rousing chart-topper in embryo, and “Everytime We Say Goodbye” and “Hush, Sorrow” are subdued, occasionally meandering, ballads. Like “Gasoline and Matches”, “Memphis Jane” — the hard-charging story of a hitchhiker with dual identities — is, thankfully, gritty enough to dislodge a recurring tone of gentleness that nearly softens the entire record’s impact. If anything it is actually the Millers’ willingness to cede the spotlight, however, that actually threatens to disrupt the shape of the album. For example, a greasy cover of Mel Tillis’ “What You Gonna Do, Leroy”, sung by Buddy with Robert Plant, is a clear highlight — both singers are light on their feet, and they deliver the song with the good humor it deserves. What is less clear is where exactly this song belongs: through no fault of his own, Plant commands attention in ways that Buddy Miller never does. (Indeed, this slight sense of dislocation might be natural — the song was recorded in a dressing room during the Allison Krauss/Robert Plant tour.) Written in Chalk‘s list of guest vocalists — which also includes Emmylou Harris, Patty Griffin, and Regina McCrary — is certainly impressive and, track for track, the quality is so high here that this may seem a middling complaint, but it might be just as well to hear to hear Buddy and Julie sing the duets together. In fact, their unadorned partnership on “June” is one of the record’s most satisfying moments. A new Buddy and Julie Miller record is undoubtedly a special occasion; this one just makes you wish you could spend a little more personal time with the hosts.