The Shiners
Bonnie Blue
Planetary Records

Beginning with the trains-a-rollin' acoustic guitar of the outstanding title track, the members of The Shiners demonstrate that they're much more than a collective of redneck banjo enthusiasts. But there's nothing slick or polished about Bonnie Blue, the first effort from this outfit of unwashed Southerners and their like-minded sidekicks.

Elements of alt-country and Southern rock play a major role here, but make no mistake — with lyrics that pay special attention to possums, crows, rodeo whores, cowboys, shotguns, coyotes, the Mason-Dixon Line and apple wine, this is a record that owes a great debt to traditional country.

Husband and wife collaborators/vocalists Wes and Jyl Freed, both former members of the "hillbilly soul" band Dirtball, front a strong group of players who produce a big sound through an amalgam of guitar, bass, drums, fiddle, mandolin, cello and, of course, banjo. This sounds sadly perfect and perfectly sad on tracks like "Plowman's Song," an affecting sort of rural requiem for the South. Sings Wes Freed, "Dreamed I was playin' blackjack with a cheatin' wolverine/ but a shotgun blast from a war long past awoke me with a scream."

"The Rodeo Clown" is another strong title. Spurred on by Teresa Douglas' accordion, the oddly triumphant tale of "the men in the barrels" soars as Wes Freed — who also painted the album's pop-arty looking cover — finishes each verse with a joyous rebel whoop. Paul Watson, part of Sparklehorse's touring band, turns up here playing coronet (and baritone guitar on the album's final song).

The Shiners' identity as a Southern band is never more evident than on "We Won't Break The Circle." Erin Snyder's fiddle, Douglas' banjo and guest Kirk Rundstrom's Dobro provide the requisite amount of twang to back Wes Freed's swinging vocal turn: "We won't break the circle," he explains, "we're just tryin' to get by." It sounds innocent, unspoiled, like it might've been recorded yesterday — or 45 years ago.

The reliance on traditional instruments is not unique to a particular track. It's hard to imagine a song like "Bonnie Blue" without a subtle banjo somewhere in the background, one like "The Bridge" without its mood-setting fiddle or "Night Owl" without its surging strings.

A deliberately goofy song called "Devil's X" brings the record to a sort of underwhelming close, and the untitled bonus track, told in the voice of a man who thinks the wrong side won the Civil War, is, frankly, more than a little creepy. ("I hates the Yankee nation and everything they do/ I hates the Declaration of Independence, too.")

Anticlimactic ending aside, it's an album that might remind fellow artists about the importance of songwriting and musicianship. Bonnie Blue is fun when fun feels right and sad when it should be. Little more than a half-hour long, the album boasts more than a few keepers among its 10 tracks. It's a record of honest songs, well-played.

— Kevin Canfield (kcanfield at snet dot net)