Charlie Parr
Rooster
Eclectone Records
Editor's Note: This review features a podcast with audio clips that accompany its song references.
Let us bow our heads and say a prayer to save talent from fame.
Time and again in the mass market of popular culture we've seen the effects that overwhelming success has wrought upon those with talent and gifts enough to rise to popularity but who lack the courage, perspective and restraint to protect themselves from the distractions of fame. If an artist is able to avoid the personal pitfalls of money, sex, drugs, egomania, and all the rest, there’s always the problem of the art itself suffering, even with the best intentions.
It wasn’t long before the high modernist form of jazz became popular in the early and mid-'60s that it turned into the mostly horrible jazz fusion wave of the late '60s and '70s. And popular jazz today tends toward that smooth “quiet storm” style — a sound existing exactly three circles of hell below elevator music. What used to be called country music went from Jimmie Rodgers and Hank Williams to Dolly Parton and Waylon Jennings, to Shania Twain and guys like Big & Rich. Again and again, we see a music that once had authenticity and roots become nothing more than a flavoring by which the corporate popular music industry markets to various demographic sectors.
As for the “mainstreaming” treatment of blues, there have been many strange attempts to bring wonderfully ornery blues artists to larger audiences. Most people have forgotten the great Muddy Waters' foray into psychedelic rock on down and dirty tracks like “Herbert Harper’s Free Press News” on 1968’s Electric Mud. Stranger still are those long-lived blues and truly great artists like Buddy Guy, BB King, or the late John Lee Hooker, who every now and then attempt to liven things up by collaborating with artists from different genres or ambitious producers.
Take John Lee Hooker, with a half-century of music in his catalogue, including the 1962 hit “Boom Boom,” a perfectly respectable blues boogie. But it is a sadly typical phenomenon for a guy like Hooker to come out with a record like 1989’s The Healer, which is overproduced and underfocused. On a song like “Chill Out,” Hooker finds himself eclipsed by guest collaborator and producer Carlos Santana. In fact, collaborating with Santana is a sure sign that there’s been a downturn in either your musical career or Santana’s. Beware the "Santana Secret Chord Progression." As soon as you hear that vamp, the wolves will soon be upon you.
One artist not soon slated to fall victim to the "Santana Secret Chord Progression" is Charlie Parr. Born and bred in Minnesota, Parr is a gifted musician and songwriter who sounds like he has the entire history of American folk, blues and country encoded in his DNA. With three previous releases, a tour of the British Isles, and an appearance on "A Prairie Home Companion", Charlie Parr has built up a small but devoted following. His newest release, Rooster, is a refreshing, original, and genuine collection of new old-timey music.
You don’t have to be a folk fanatic to like this music. Fans of Ry Cooder, John Prine and Steve Earle will find Parr songwriting appealing — all the more so because of the authentic sound of his records. He is deliberately old school as far as recording technology is concerned. There are 12 songs on Rooster, 10 originals with 2 traditional folk songs. Parr plays an assortment of resonator and 12-string guitars, banjo, and of course, he sings. As with most of his previous work, his songs deal with everyday human miseries and joys — but mostly miseries, as Parr remains rooted first and foremost in the blues.
Rooster’s opening track, "Samson and Delilah,” gives us from the very first notes a sense of heartache in its twisting guitar work and in Parr’s soulful voice. In an upbeat song such as “Gone,” Parr sets the disappointment of his woman leaving him against the light bounce of his steel guitar. And when he chooses, the man slows himself down and truly moves us with a song like “Cheap Wine,” which sounds contemporary in its sensibility and timeless in its playing and production.
This combination of respect for his roots, the intelligence and taste in his writing and his solid sense of place in the present make Parr's musical imagination one to be reckoned with. He is, at once, himself and so many artists who came before him. And, although success is now coming to him, he has lost none of his authenticity. Charlie Parr is the real thing. May his talent always save him from the trappings of fame.
— Mark Hayes (mark.e.hayes at gmail dot com)
