"Something More Than Free": A. I may be guilty of morbid curiosity, but I need to know what happens to
guys who get kicked out of their former bands. If you know the answer
to the question, "Name the bass player who got fired from Bon Jovi,"
that would certify you as a music nerd. The answer is Alec John Such,
who was canned in 1984 before Bon Jovi struck it rich as a big time
band. Instead of becoming a multi-millionaire like his ex-mates, Such
owns a motorcycle shop and is out of the performing business.
Brian
Jones -- not Mick Jagger or Keith Richards -- was the Englishman who
formed the Rolling Stones in 1962. As the rhythm guitarist who
sometimes shared lead with Keith, he was instrumental in guiding the
Stones to stardom on both sides of The Pond, including the halcyon era
of the British Invasion. But Jones was asked to leave the group in June
of '69, and one month later he drowned under mysterious circumstances
in a swimming pool at his country estate.
The
most famous involuntary departure of all was that of the Beatles' first
drummer, Pete Best. His major sin was his introspective personality,
which did not mix well with the other lads who were quite effervescent.
According to several sources, including John Lennon's biographer,
Philip Norman, the other band members gutlessly had their manager, Brian
Epstein, deliver the pink slip to Pete. Best's termination occurred
less than two months before the release of the Beatles first UK single,
Love Me Do, in October 1962. Best has had an on-again/ but mostly off-again career in music, never getting a sniff of the big money.
All of this brings us to Jason Isbell, whose new album,
Something More Than Free,
is the subject of this post. Just as was the case with Such and Jones,
drug and alcohol addiction proved to be Isbell's undoing as a key
member of the southern rock band, Drive By Truckers. His abuse of drugs
made him an unsteady player and an unreliable bandmate. His buddies in
the band, including his first wife, bassist Shonna Tucker, begged him
to take a break from touring in 2007 so he could address his issues.
When Isbell refused, they cut the cord. This was quite unfortunate for
both sides, partly because even though Isbell was not an original
member, he had been a Trucker for six years and his song writing prowess
made DBT a formidable presence in the rock genre. He had contributed
many songs to the Truckers' playbook, including the title song of their
fourth album,
Decoration Day.
Isbell's
failures to confront his demons cost him his marriage to Tucker, and he
lived in a state of limbo for almost six years. During that time he
made music with an under-the-radar regional band he formed called The
400 Unit, but to his credit his top priority was rescuing himself from
an inevitably dire ending. When he finally cleaned up his act, the
writing muse returned, and 2013's
Southeastern was the smash result.
Something More Than Free , released this summer, is the follow-up to
Southeastern, and as Momma Cuan's friend Norma might say, "It is WONderful!"
Almost
every song on the eleven tune menu has a hook that you'll have a hard
time ejecting from your mental playlist. The first two entries are
prime examples. If It Takes A Lifetime is about the singer
attempting to redress his wild past by living a more responsible
present. But he finds it's a slow process The chorus includes the
lines:
I thought the highway loved me but
she beat me like a drum,
My day will come,
If it takes a lifetime.
Isbell
sounds like a young John Prine, but with a better voice. His delivery
has that wisecracking air which the older Prime has mastered.
24 Frames
addresses the need to take responsibility for making yourself a better
person. The song is clearly influenced by the failure of his marriage
to Tucker, thus bringing back thoughts of the last album I reviewed
here, Neil Diamond's Melody Road (December 27, 2014; A). When he
was young, predestination was the singer's rationale for bad behavior.
Everything was out of an individual's control, he figured, because
whatever happened was what God wanted to happen. Wrong!
You thought God was an architect,
Now you know.
The
song title refers to an amount of time equal to a single second, as
that's how many frames pass by in a second when using a 35 millimeter
projector.
Everything you've built
that's all for show
goes up in flames,
In twenty-four frames.
The jangly guitar might remind some sixties fans of the early Byrds. Roger McGuinn would be proud.
Momma Cuan's favorite track, The Life You Choose,
is another selection which makes the listener wonder if Isbell knows he
"blew it" as a young man. Like several other songs on the album, one
school of thought is that he is singing to his ex, confessing that he
could have handled things better. Once again, responsibility and
control of one's own life are the topics.
Are you living the life you chose?
[or] Are you living the life that chose you?
The bouncy beat with brushes on the snare resembles the Traveling Wilburys, in which Isbell, via time travel, would have been a perfect fit.
It
has been said that a bridge is the hardest part of a song to write. It
needs to be different from, yet ideally relate to, the verses, while at
the same time connecting to a chorus and/or a break. I love the
fluidity with which Isbell inserts his bridges. The bridge in The Life You Chose is close to perfection.
Isbell
is as much a poet and storyteller is he is a song writer. The imagery
he incorporates into his songs is almost tangibly visible. Four
examples. Flagship describes an older couple sitting together at a table in the corner of an old hotel bar.
She's got nothing left to learn about his heart.
They're sitting there a thousand miles apart.
In Speed Trap Town, the singer has hung around his home town, waiting for his terminally ill father to pass. The old man outlives the prognosis.
How long can they keep you in the ICU?
Veins in the skin like a faded tattoo.
Hudson Commodore,
a song sung and produced in the fashion of Lyle Lovett, tells of a
single mother with two kids who worked hard all her life. She had
plenty of proposals from wealthy suitors who would have carried her off
to a better life. But she had simple tastes and wanted to lay low, with
one exception.
She just wanted to ride in a Delahaye 135.
She just wanted to ride in a Hudson Commodore.
Here is Isbell's description, in Palmetto Rose, of the interior of a taxi in Charleston, South Carolina:
Palmetto rose in the A/C vent,
Cross-stich pillow where the headrest went.
The final track might surprise people who only know of Isbell through the Drive By Truckers. To A Band That I Loved
is not about his ill-fated stint with the Truckers, but is a
combination tribute and thank you to Centro-Matic. Before Isbell became
an accomplished writer, that North Texas band, with which Isbell
periodically played guitar, wrote lyrics expressing the thoughts that
Isbell at the time was unable to pen. Isbell's new song laments C-M's
decision to call it quits at the end of 2014.
Isbell's
star is rising once again. He is sober, remarried -- coincidentally to
another musician -- and now has two acclaimed albums to his credit in
these early stages of his reformed and reshaped life. I am sorry I
missed him at this summer's Basilica Block Party, but if he returns to
the Twin Towns I will be there.
