[rating=7.00]
The final installment of Charlie Mars’ so-called Texas Trilogy, The Money finds Mars taking a small step backward while at the same time continuing along his path of artistic self-discovery. After five albums as a standard singer-songwriter, Mars’ label went out of business and he was forced to go it alone. After some soul-searching and a good night of blackjack at a Mississippi casino, Mars bankrolled his own album, answering to no one but his own creativity. The result, 2009’s Like a Bird, Like a Plane, was Mars’ best album to date. The time spent away from touring and listening to the advice of record labels allowed Mars to explore his influences and add to his own stylistic repertoire. That album and 2012’s Blackberry Light rely as much on strong grooves as on folksy storytelling. The same is true for The Money, though not quite as effectively.
Mars begins the album with the country road song “Hell Yeah,” with Mars yearning for a place to belong but turning to temporary pleasures as a substitute. The song epitomizes Mars’ strengths and weaknesses. It relies on catchy rhythms and harmonies, but doesn’t have enough sonic heft to overcome the weak spots in the lyrics (“Can I get a hell yeah? Hell yeah.”) At his best, Mars’ fat grooves and syncopated rhythms inject vitality into the often dull singer-songwriter genre. However, he simply doesn’t have the vocal chops to deliver strong slow crooners.
The Money is the third consecutive album recorded in Texas with the same core backing band – drummer J.J. Johnson, pianist John Ginty, and bassist George Reiff – and the same producer, Billy Harvey, who also plays guitar on the albums. “Things You Don’t Wanna Know” showcases the new Charlie Mars sound, with swelling organs and rootsy percussion at the forefront while Mars tells a story with a smirk. It’s telling that the song “Silver Buttons” appears here yet again. Mars recorded it twice previously but was never really happy with the result. This time, the new Charlie Mars sound, with a fuller backing by this band, gives the song added weight. When Mars sings of a difficult childhood (“through the walls I hear a scream”) and his resolution to persevere, you can feel it.
Considering Mars’ new emphasis on percussive folk that relies as much on danceable beats as on stories, it’s surprising that the majority of The Money is soft and slow. Though Mars is at his best on upbeat songs like the boogie shuffle of “Rainfall,” that’s not to say that his slow songs have nothing to offer. “Pride Before the Fall” examines the good and bad sides of love, his boy-next-door voice baring all. “If you really love somebody you know they could break your heart, and if you’re telling the truth, you knew it from the start,” he sings. In those moments Mars shows that even if you strip away the beats, sometimes the story he needs to share is enough on its own.
Top photos by Danny Clinch
