Back in the late Sixties/early Seventies, when America was embroiled in an unpopular war that seemingly had no end and the President was a detested figure whose very mention prompted scorn and derision, protest songs seemed the norm. In addition to pleading with the public for social and political change, singer/songwriters seemed adept at transforming their progressive ideals into enduring anthems whose significance outlasted their creators. In that vein, James McMurtry may very well be the last angry man left in the music industry. In 2004, he wrote the virulent anti-Bush “We Can’t Make It Here,” a song that should have paved the way for his peers to unleash their vitriolic polemic and rhetoric but instead stood alone in quality and quantity.
It’s four years later and McMurtry’s fondness for George W. Bush hasn’t grown in any shape or form and from listening to “Cheney’s Toy,” his frank and bitter assessment of W’s regime, it’s possible that McMurtry has lost esteem for a leader in which he had none in the first place. Now, that’s good righteous anger. The son of novelist Larry McMurtry of Lonesome Dove renown, McMurtry has always been a poetic lyricist, able to capture the pathos of aging, the joys of childhood and the regret of loss in a modicum of words. On Just Us Kids, McMurtry continues along the path he began with Childish Things, voicing his disappointment while demonstrating the compassionate heart that fuels his rage.
The best moments on Just Us Kids come when McMurtry unleashes his frustrations, he mocks selective prosecution on “The Governor,” decries corporate greed on “God Bless America (Pat mAcdonald Must Die)” and eulogizes the greatness of America on “Ruins Of The Realm.” Giving an idea as to what Lou Reed would have sounded like if he’d decided to godfather outlaw country instead of alternative rock, McMurtry’s half-spoken cadence allows him to recite his lyrics like poetry, giving an emotional punch to the saga of “Ruby & Carlos.”
Dating back to his earliest albums, McMurtry has always shown a knack for finding a warmth and sympathy in the human condition. The title song speaks on retaining shades of youth in the face of growing responsibilities and “Fire Line Road” deals with escaping to the outskirts of town and civilization. It’s not all pensive reflection though: the instrumental “Brief Intermission” sizzles, “Bayou Tortous” is a throwback style rocker and the honky-tonk, juke-house feel of "Freeway View” is quite infectious. With a new regime on the way, McMurtry may need to find new targets lest the last angry man find peace. Fortunately, should he ever become content and pleased, McMurtry can do more than vent political spleen.
The Iraq war is not only front and center in the Democratic primary, it is also the subject of a new film focusing on an injured Iraq war veteran called Body of War that features original music by Eddie Vedder. In addition to Vedder, the soundtrack includes cuts from Ben Harper, Pearl Jam, Bruce Springsteen, Neil Young, The Nightwatchman and many more.
Bobby Bare Jr. is hitting the road in support of his new record The Longest Meow (mp3 below). Bare received some help on his new effort from, among others, Carl Broemel and Patrick Hallahan of My Morning Jacket and reportedly tracked all 11 cuts in a single long day in Nashville. Bare will take the new tunes on the road next week for some solo dates and then join Son Volt for a couple weeks in April.
Just call Joss Stone the Chicken Whisperer. In a new ad for Peta, the sexy songstress touts her vegetarian bona fides and love of chickens, the un-cooked kind. Speaking fondly of a feathered friend, Stone is quoted as saying "“The chickens were so adorable and really comfortable. I think one of them started to fall asleep in my arms. So sweet!” Almost makes me feel guilty about the rotisserie Perdue I had for dinner - almost.
James McMurty has a new record coming out next month. His Just Us Kids hits stores April 15. To celebrate, James' peeps are posting new tracks on his MySpace every Tuesday, where you can also get a free download of "Cheney's Toy." Yes, James continues his political themes on the new record - after all, 'tis the season.
AUSTIN, Texas – James McMurtry has created a forum in which fans may share commentary on the state of the union with the singer/songwriter. "I've always been a little put off by activists. So you know it's a dire situation when I have to become one myself," he explains. McMurtry makes regular posts on topics that range from airport security to the current presidential administration.
In 2003, James McMurtry joined forces with Houston's Compadre Records and released the universally praised Live in Aught-Three. This summer finds McMurtry back with his first studio album in more three years, Childish Things, was released September 6 on Compadre Records. The new album features ten new McMurtry-penned tunes as well as covers of Peter Case's "The Old Part of Town" and the country standard "Ole Slew Foot."
While Childish Things isn't an overtly political record, the centerpiece has to be "We Can't Make It Here," McMurtry's commentary on the current state of the union. McMurtry made the song available as a free download on his website during the 2004 election. The response to the track was immediate and overwhelming and the song continues to be one of the most requested on stations across the country. Stephen King described the song as "stark and wrenchingly direct, this may be the best American protest song since (Bob Dylan's) 'Masters of War.'" Congressman Bernie Sanders is using the song on his Senate campaign, and McMurtry is slowly entering the world of political activism - he just played the national Veterans for Peace convention and Farm Aid. In August, McMurtry joined Steve Earle for a free concert at Cindy Sheehan's anti-war demonstration outside George W. Bush's home in Crawford, TX (NOTE: McMurtry is actually one of the artists the White House confirmed was on President Bush's iPod). Childish Things marks the first time the track will be available on disc without FCC-sensitive words censored.
Author Stephen King describes Ft. Worth native McMurtry as "the truest, fiercest songwriter of his generation." The son of acclaimed author Larry McMurtry (Lonesome Dove, Terms of Endearment), James grew up on a steady diet of Johnny Cash and Roy Acuff records. His first album, released in 1989, was produced by John Mellencamp and marked the beginning of a series of critically acclaimed projects for Columbia and Sugar Hill.
McMurtry's new blog: http://myspace.com/jamesmcmurtry
JAMES McMURTRY ON TOUR
Fri Oct 21 Pittsburgh, PA Club Cafe Sat-Sun Oct 22 -23 New York, NY The Mercury Lounge, with Joel Plaskett Emergency and Stephen Clair 10/22, TBA 10/23 Mon Oct 24 Northampton, MA Iron Horse Music Hall, with Joel Plaskett Emergency Tue Oct 25 South Burlington, VT Higher Ground Showcase, with Syd Straw Wed-Thu, Oct 26 27 Ellsworth, ME Grand Auditorium, with Joel Plaskett Emergency Fri Oct 28 Somerville, MA Johnny D's Sat Oct 29 Philadelphia, PA North Star Sun Oct 30 Arlington, VA IOTA Tue Nov 1 Virginia Beach, VA The Jewish Mother Wed Nov 2 Charlottesville, VA Gravity Lounge Thu Nov 3 Raleigh, NC The Pour House Music Hall Fri Nov 4 Greenville, SC The Handlebar Sat Nov 5 Atlanta, GA The 5 Spot Sun Nov 6 Birmingham, AL Vulcan Park Tue Nov 8 Little Rock, AR Sticky Fingerz Thu Nov 10 Fort Worth, TX The Aardvark Fri Nov 11 Austin, TX Continental Club, with Matt the Electrician Sat Nov 12 Houston, TX Continental Club - Houston Fri Nov 18 Helotes, TX Floores Country Store Thu Dec 29 Dallas, TX Granada Theatre, with Reckless Kelly
James McMurtry has always sounded older than his years. Matching a deep, knowing, beleaguered voice with songwriting ability derived from his father, western writer Larry McMurtry, son James has been creating achingly beautiful songs with concisely but eloquently described characters since his 1989 debut album Too Long In The Wasteland. His latest album, the wistfully named Childish Things, presents McMurtry in an aging, contemplative state of mind, mourning the loss of his youthful innocence when happiness could be attained from such childish pleasures as a trip to Richmond to see the elephant at the traveling show.
Literary in scope, Childish Things' opening trio of songs lament the erosion of the happiness to be derived from the simple entertainments of our youth, ultimately to be buried under the weight and responsibility of adulthood. In See The Elephant, our young narrator wants nothing more than his father's permission to go with his friends to the county fair, using every argument in his arsenal to secure his dad's approval. McMurtry never discloses the father's answer, but the sorrowful delivery of the final stanza powerfully delivers the message that responsibility takes more from you than an opportunity to see an elephant.
In Childish Things, our narrator, now in his 40's, like McMurtry, has put away his lust for childish things and assumed the mantle of parenthood. Recalling his Aunt Clara, who always had the Bible close at hand in case advice needed to be rendered, a jaded McMurtry sings about no longer believing in heaven but still believing in ghosts. Although time has made him world-weary, a still hopeful McMurtry remains optimistic about the future, his own and his son's.
By the trilogy's conclusion, We Can't Make It Here, all hope has been abandoned with cynicism and disgust for America's declining character filling the areas of the soul once claimed by naiveté, wonder and optimism. Filled with righteous, vituperative indignation reminiscent of Lou Reed at his most cantankerous, McMurtry skillfully and eloquently elucidates the frustration and troubles of the working class and expresses his disgust at the CEOs, politicians and so-called rich elite who remain blissfully ignorant and apathetic to the plight of others. Phenomenally written, We Can't Make It Here can rightfully take its place with the poignant protest songs of Peter, Paul & Mary and Bob Dylan. Where Bob Dylan eloquently expressed how his generation felt, McMurtry focuses on what he sees before him to illustrate his dissatisfaction with this country's government and power structure that he feels has ignored, mistreated and disrespected America's working class. His imagery of a struggling America without access to its own leader seems prophetic in light of the current events in New Orleans and Cindy Sheehan's futile vigil to get another face-to-face meeting with President Bush.
McMurtry's singing, if it could fairly be called that, gives his songs a unique feel. In addition to channeling Lou Reed's cynicism, McMurtry also adopts Reed's conversational singing style. While his vocal limitations are noticeable, especially when partnered with Joe Ely on the Jimmy Webb tune Slew Foot, McMurtry's lack of range does not detract from his songs. Quite the opposite, his low, comforting voice gives his songs a warm, old-fashioned, intimate feel best typified on the album’s finale, Holiday. With cinematic breadth, McMurtry describes various scenes, including an Iowa guardsman's childhood memories of soldiers returning from Vietnam to the same airport in which he awaits his departure to Iraq, and paints a cinematic picture of the restlessness inside us that is as "deadly as Texans on ice."
Childish Things defies classification, but it wouldn't be an injustice to call it a kissin' cousin of a country album. The difficulty stems from McMurtry's gift of investing potentially pedestrian fare, like Memorial Day and Six Year Drought, with a cerebral intensity absent from traditional country music, transforming them beyond simple little throwaway tunes. McMurtry's prior albums have been inconsistent efforts, usually containing three or four extraordinary songs strewn amidst unremarkable filler material. Centering the album on the unifying theme of how quickly our lives become burdened with unavoidable responsibilities, McMurtry's Childish Things is anything but childish. To the contrary, McMurtry's latest is his finest, most mature album to date.