COLVIN & EARLE : COLVIN & EARLE

COLVIN & EARLE : COLVIN & EARLE

Come What May
Tell Moses
Tobacco Road
Ruby Tuesday
The Way That We Do
Happy And Free
You Were On My Mind
You're Right (I'm Wrong)
Raise The Dead
You're Still Gone
Bonus Tracks :
Someday
That Don't Worry Me Now
Baby's In Black

Label : Fantasy Records

Release Date : June 10, 2016

Length : 43:12

Review (Americana UK) : Shawn Colvin and Steve Earle discovered they had a lot more in common than being respected recording artists in the Americana and folk genres. They both have struggled with addiction (Earle heroin and a smorgasbord of other substances; Colvin mainly alcohol) and appeared to be winning the battle on points at the time of their duo recording in 2016. Both had also experienced the pain of divorce – Earle leading Colvin 7-2 at the time, with both swearing off any more marriages. Eight years later, both musicians remain clean and single. Bravo! The ”Colvin & Earle” album came about when she got the idea that they should collaborate on some shows together. Colvin had done a stint swapping songs with Mary Chapin Carpenter and adored the experience. “It was camaraderie. I got to be a backup singer. It was fun”, she enthused. “I don’t mind doing my solo stuff. It’s what I do, and I’m good at it. But it started me thinking as to who else I could do this with, and Steve popped into my head. We had previously sat in with each other a couple of times. He was up for it and called it ‘whitewashing the fence’ because the motive was to get away with doing half the work.” Earle and Colvin didn’t even rehearse for their first show together except for soundcheck. “We had two chairs onstage,” Earle recalled. “One of us would sit down while the other sang. We’d trade songs for about half the show, and from that point on, it was both of us playing and singing. It was surprising how well we sang together“. The first song they sang was Buddy Holly’s ‘Wake Up Little Susie’, and the pair clicked. “We needed to make a record”, Earle confirmed. They enlisted Buddy Miller to produce the album and play baritone guitar. Some of the top Nashville players were recruited to fill out the band, including Richard Bennett on guitar, Chris Wood on bass and Sheryl Crow’s drummer, Fred Eltringham. Ten songs were on the initial release with three bonus tracks added to the reissue, one of which was an Earle song (‘Someday’) that Colvin covered back in 1987 when she was opening shows for him. Another of the extra songs was ‘That Don’t Worry Me Now’ from Colvin’s “These Four Walls” album. Its signature lyric seemed relevant for both musicians. “Jesus is coming …. I won’t get to heaven / but that don’t worry me now”. Apparently, she had her demons at the time. The third was the Beatles’ raver, ‘Baby’s in Black’, where the pair do an adequate rendering of Lennon and McCartney harmonies. “We sing cross harmony. We don’t rehearse it; we just naturally do it”, Earle explained. “That’s what we weren’t prepared for. When you’re an artist our age – he was 61, Colvin 60 – you’re looking for surprises, and they are harder and harder to come by”. Besides covers of ‘Ruby Tuesday’ by the Rolling Stones, ‘Raise the Dead’ by Emmylou Harris, J.D. Loudermilk’s classic ‘Tobacco Road’ and an absolutely scintillating romp through We Five’s hit ‘You Were On My Mind’, the songs are originals. They were written over time in Earle’s home in New York City near Bleeker Street in the Village, Colvin’s home in Austin, Texas, and a third session in Nashville. Naturally, some ideas were digitally sent back and forth using their cell phones. After hearing of the alliance, thoughts turned to other pairs linking up, like Alison Krauss and Robert Plant, Emmylou Harris and Mark Knopfler, both of which met with love from the critics. There were reservations about this match, given Earle’s rather gruff and unique vocal stylings, but Colvin managed to smooth over any of the rough spots and was able to blend her honeyed range with Earle’s natural twang. You never know until you try. The storytelling is first-rate, as you would expect from two artists with undeniable talents for the narrative. Right from the start of ‘Come What May’, the abject failure of sustaining marriages comes spilling out in the line: “Something’s gotta give / but it never did before”. The next track is a civil rights tale from Selma, Alabama, couched in spiritual tones. ‘Tell Mama’s storyline runs from that bridge in Alabama where Martin Luther King delivered his speech in 1965 to Ferguson, Missouri, where the anti-police rioting that swept through the country began following the death of Michael Brown. One of the cool things that emerged from covering ‘Ruby Tuesday’ is both singers got to alternate on Mick’s (verses) and Keith’s (chorus) parts. They sang their own praises as well. “We were really proud of that one”, Earle affirmed. “When we sing, nobody has got the melody the whole time”. ‘Happy and Free’ is the cell phone song. From the back of the bus, Earle sent Colvin a mandolin riff that started the process. By the way, no mention of whether he was actually playing it from his seat. “We started trading verses back and forth by text messages and emails. And that’s how the whole thing was written”. There is a weird story that goes with ‘You Were on My Mind.’ As Earle remembered it: “I learned from a Canadian journalist that it was written about two blocks from my apartment by Sylvia Fricker in what was then called the Hotel Earle (no relation). I knew the original was by Ian & Sylvia. Crispian St. Peters had a recording of it – a lot of people did”. One being We Five, which was the big hit version, and the one with a very complicated chord pattern. That’s the one they used to record it, although Earle insisted on putting Fricker’s lyrics back, in that had been cleansed for the delicate ears listening to AM radio. “I got drunk, and I got sick”. Most of the millions who bought the single never heard that line. This wasn’t an ideal pairing musically as their voices are so different, but in another sense, it was wonderful hearing two musicians who obviously loved what they were singing. Their influences aren’t exactly as parallel as train rails either: For Earle it’s Joseph Mitchell and the storytellers that he used to hunt and fish with, his grandfather and his uncles. For Colvin, she notes a fondness for Joni Mitchell and poetry. Another thing they have in common, however, is an affinity for the dark side of life. As some songwriter named Cohen asked in a critique of religion, “You Want It Darker?” Beginning with some B-minor chord changes, ‘You’re right, I’m wrong’ descended into relationship hell. “What if I killed all that’s holy / What if I told you a lie / What if you ended up believin’ / I only ever meant to make you cry?” The mood doesn’t get any cheerier on ‘Raise the Dead’. Emmylou Harris wrote a song about Hank Williams dying, Sam Cooke being shot dead, supposedly by a motel manager, and being washed in the blood of Bill Monroe and Robert Johnson’s hellhound. No wonder the singer will never get out of this love alive. ‘You’re Still Gone’ was begun by Buddy Miller’s wife Julie, who wrote the pretty melody, then Colvin penned the verses and Earle handled the chorus. “It was a triad”, Colvin said, though Earle called it a “three-way.” This teary-eyed heartbreaker was chosen to close the album. My wife and I were in the audience in 1987 when Colvin opened a show for Earle at the Iron Horse Café in Northampton, Mass. It was our idea of a proper wedding anniversary date night, never imagining they would make an album together 30 years down the road. Earle remembered the time she opened. “I’d never heard her, but when I did, I knew I was looking at a really strong performer”. She released her debut album for Columbia, “Steady On”, in 1989 and won a Grammy. Once again, I sat on one of the Horse’s uncomfortable hardwood chairs when she came around with top billing that autumn. Earle and Colvin worked well together because of shared experience. Both had been in jail because of their addictions. Earle actually served some time, whereas Colvin’s stretch was of the mind only, brought upon by anxiety and depression. Through all that, they managed to come together and flourishingly blend their voices. She got a little rougher around the edges; he filed down some of the roughness in his edges to find some tender tones. Hey, that sounds just like a typical lyric for a pair of singers.

Review (Record Collector) : Maverick country star Earle and folkie Colvin unite with all the bass-thrumming, drum-thumping good feeling of Robert Plant and Alison Krauss’s feted team-up. Here the producer and guitarist is Americana god Buddy Miller (central to Plant’s solo projects) who brings together the perhaps unlikely pairing on self-penned numbers such as the sweaty, dark You’re Right (I’m Wrong) along with four disparate covers: The Nashville Teens’ Tobacco Road, Ruby Tuesday, Ian and Sylvia Tyson’s folk gem You Were On My Mind and Emmylou Harris’ Rise The Dead. Earle’s slurring nonchalance and Colvin’s precise delivery are a joy as they weave around each other amid squealing harmonica and distorted, rocking guitars. The result is very much a band (rather than acoustic) album, harking back to Earle’s Guitar Town debut but also taking in the likes of Harris’ rich later work and even Garth Brooks’ much underestimated reinvention on his folk-rocking In The Life Of Chris Gaines album.

Review (The Fire Note) : As a junior musicologist (every music critic thinks they know everything, and don’t believe them when they tell you otherwise), I have a few pet theories about music. The first is that deep down at the root of every genre of music there’s an ugly secret, and that secret is a polka. I’ve given this a lot of thought at hundreds of concerts and music festivals of every kind, but listen to Los Lobos get back to their acoustic Mexican roots and you’ll hear a polka, witness the accordion. Same is true of old school punk, those mosh pits begin to feel just like those German beer barrel dance floors when the rhythm settles down to a slower groove. Once you start recognizing it, sooner or later you’ll hear it everywhere: bluegrass, jam bands, folk music of all kinds, country music, African American slave chants and spirituals, even orchestral classical music has it’s share. The ONE exception that proves the rule: modern jazz… it’s still there in the New Orleans second line and traditional jazz, but modern/avant garde jazz doesn’t have a rhythm you can count on, and therefore no polka. Oh, and heavy metal, two words: Spinal Tap. More importantly, my second theory is that, come what may, every decent song that exists can be deconstructed down to its most basic elements and delivered on by a solo acoustic guitar or piano and voice. From Radiohead’s most technologically advanced works to the lush, orchestrated arrangement of classical genius, every genre and musical text of value can be brought down to it’s most elemental roots and be shared with a simple melodic core. Witness when bands like The Cure, or Nirvana, or Eric Clapton brought their most dense, electronically recorded works down to an acoustic performance for MTV Unplugged, or when Wilco takes a big chunk of barely musical noise like “Via Chicago” down to the barest of acoustic essentials for their Tiny Desk Concert for NPR. Another case in point: U2’s guitarist The Edge played previously dense, high-tech production of songs “Ordinary Love” and “Walk On,” and deconstructed them down to acoustic guitar and added a vocal choir to be performed in the Vatican’s Sistine Chapel. No amplifier, no digital delay or other guitar pedals, just a voice and simple chords on a guitar, with melody on full display. For the longest time, folk and country singer/songwriters have this rich, full understanding at the heart of all great music, by gathering together and singing to and with each other. Whether gathered around campfires, informal living rooms or established music writer’s “In the Round” showcases at famous clubs like Nashville’s Bluebird Café, which lays claim to bringing artists like Garth Brooks and Taylor Swift to the attention of the music world, when very young and just starting out. On their first recording together, established artists Steve Earle and Shawn Colvin capture the intimacy, creative energy and collaborative spirit that springs up organically when songwriters come together to sing their latest songs to and ultimately with each other. While well known in folk singer, alternative country and Americana circles, and aware of and fans of each other for over 30 years, it took a phone call from Colvin, fresh from touring with Mary Chapin Carpenter, to put together the tour that would ultimately lead to this recording. Of course, both of these artists have had long, storied careers. Colvin had already won a Grammy for “Best Contemporary Folk Album” (“Steady On,” 1991), before she became a major pop sensation with the song “Sunny Came Home,” winning the Grammys for both Song and Record of the Year. Earle has had his songs recorded by Johnny Cash, Travis Tritt, Vince Gill, Patty Loveless and Emmylou Harris, and Colvin even covered “Someday” all the way back in 1994. He went on to record in a variety of genres – bluegrass with Del McCoury, folk, country rock and alt country, including an entire album of Townes Van Zandt covers, his mentor—winning three Grammy’s of is own in the process. Earle had a celebrated role on the HBO New Orleans drama, “Treme,” playing street musician and songwriting mentor Harley Wyatt, whose song “This City” came to represent the series’ sense of grief and loss as well as its oft-missed promise. colvin-and-earle Of course, it only adds to the obvious chemistry between Colvin and Earle that they’ve chosen to record with Buddy Miller, best known for his role as guitarist in Emmylou Harris’ band Spyboy, who also toured with both Colvin and Earle as well as Robert Plant and Alison Krauss, and produced a Grammy winning album for Patty Griffin, and came on board for the TV series “Nashville,” after T Bone Burnett resigned. Here Miller does what he’s always done best, captures the energy and spontaneous beauty of this somewhat magical collaboration while staying out of the way of the songs, even as he supports and nurtures the best out of them along with a small band of world-class studio players: guitarist Richard Bennett, bassist Chris Wood, and drummer Fred Elteringham. So while Colvin & Earle is a lush, beautifully recorded album, what makes this recording of 13 songs special is the spark of energy and harmony as Earle and Colvin sit, acoustic guitars and the occasional mandolin at the ready, and sing to and with each other. Along with rerecording Earle’s “Someday,” with both singing the lead role in harmony, the duo chose four other smart covers. Emmylou’s “Raise the Dead,” which recalls music icons Hank Williams, Sam Cooke, Bill Monroe and Robert Johnson, seems an almost obvious, if not inevitable choice, while the choice of Rolling Stone’s classic “Ruby Tuesday,” with smart cello accompaniment, feels like an act of pure genius. Although the “woo-woo” echoes are a sure giveaway on the 60’s contribution for Ian & Sylvia, “You Were On My Mind” has the kind of bluesy verses you could find in the writing of either Earle or Colvin, as well as the bluesy take on “Tobacco Road” (The Nashville Teens). (The deluxe edition includes the fine sing-songy Beatles cover, “Baby’s In Black,” again a no-brainer for these two.) But as smart as these cover choices feel, the real treat here are the originals prepared just for this occasion. “Come That Way,” the disc’s opener is the first song they wrote together,” captures the energy that brought this duo together. Earle is reported saying that these songs are not best thought of as duets, but rather “as just two people singing to each other.” There’s no lead singer, with the other voice offering a backing track, but rather two strong lead vocalists side by side in harmony, think Everly Brothers. Similarly, with “Tell Moses,” they’ve taken iconic gospel song imagery of the Israelites crossing the Jordan River, with “milk and honey on the other side,” to create a new song that feels like a classic tune, generations old. And, with “You’re Right (I’m Wrong)” is a long overdue apology from a lost love which feels familiar because they should know better by now, while the tender grieving ballad “You’re Still Gone” could be about one who has died, or one that got away, ringing with the raw emotion of longing that never seems to fade. As they have in their own works, Colvin & Earle manage to do here what great songwriters have always done, share a personal feeling in music and language that is ultimately universal. It’s just folk music, for everyday folk… but I’m sure there’s a polka in there somewhere.