[rating=4.00]
Jay Farrar and his reconfigured Son Volt lineup draw upon the elemental genre of country music for Honky Tonk. Without a shred of contrivance, they achieve and maintain an ever-so-precarious balance of euphoric music offset by deceptively despairing lyrics.
The swinging and swaying of the fiddles so prominent throughout the album make their debut on "Hearts and Minds." Bereft of the topicality that made Son Volt’s Rounder debut, American Dust, so powerful, the material here is likewise free of emotional cliches, to the degree that, when Jay sings of "…the simple truth," he almost immediately gives the lie to the phrase when he refers to “…waiting for love…and that sign of danger.”
The pedal steel the Son Volt leader’s been learning in the prior year rings briefly on that cut, but, played so smartly by producer and multi-instrumentalist Mark Spencer, its sweet bright sounds weave in and out of "Brick Walls," effectively offsetting the ominous images within the title and its refrain. The wan doleful quality in Farrar’s voice is an accurate reflection of the unique instrument when it emits more sad strains on
"Wild Side."
The cover graphics of Honky Tonk find their counterpart in "Down the Highway," reminiscent of the best originals Farrar wrote for Uncle Tupelo in its use of familiar symbols to accurately convey complex emotion. The following cut, "Bakersfield," may not function of the centerpiece of this album in the track sequencing, but in its reference to the home of the archetypal modern country band Buck Owens & The Buckaroos, its position as the stylistic source of this new Son Volt music is both practical and metaphorical.
The tradeoffs there between electric guitar and pedal steel represent Jay Farrar’s choice to embrace the roots of his music, in aligning himself with this particular record label, as well as eschewing, at least temporarily, the more contemporary sound of previous Son Volt efforts (not to mention that of his former partner Jeff Tweedy and his brainchild Wilco). It also makes modified waltz of "Livin’ On,” which features organ, harmonica and another of the very few appearances of electric guitar , an object lesson in what he calls the "reckless side of tradition.”
By the time "Angel of the Blues" appears here near the home stretch of the recording’s woefully short playing time of 36 plus minutes, the track offers yet another new texture to the sound in the form of acoustic piano. Honky Tonk has become less an exercise in style then a personal expression of Jay Farrar. As a result, the final two tracks "Barricades" and "Shine On," are so fundamentally positive, they act as final punctuation to the statement implicit in this album: Son Volt and its leader know exactly what they’re doing
The swinging and swaying of the fiddles so prominent throughout the album make their debut on "Hearts and Minds." Bereft of the topicality that made Son Volt’s Rounder debut, American Dust, so powerful, the material here is likewise free of emotional cliches, to the degree that, when Jay sings of "…the simple truth," he almost immediately gives the lie to the phrase when he refers to “…waiting for love…and that sign of danger.”
The pedal steel the Son Volt leader’s been learning in the prior year rings briefly on that cut, but, played so smartly by producer and multi-instrumentalist Mark Spencer, its sweet bright sounds weave in and out of "Brick Walls," effectively offsetting the ominous images within the title and its refrain. The wan doleful quality in Farrar’s voice is an accurate reflection of the unique instrument when it emits more sad strains on "Wild Side."
The cover graphics of Honky Tonk find their counterpart in "Down the Highway," reminiscent of the best originals Farrar wrote for Uncle Tupelo in its use of familiar symbols to accurately convey complex emotion. The following cut, "Bakersfield," may not function of the centerpiece of this album in the track sequencing, but in its reference to the home of the archetypal modern country band Buck Owens & The Buckaroos, its position as the stylistic source of this new Son Volt music is both practical and metaphorical.
The tradeoffs there between electric guitar and pedal steel represent Jay Farrar’s choice to embrace the roots of his music, in aligning himself with this particular record label, as well as eschewing, at least temporarily, the more contemporary sound of previous Son Volt efforts (not to mention that of his former partner Jeff Tweedy and his brainchild Wilco). It also makes modified waltz of "Livin’ On,” which features organ, harmonica and another of the very few appearances of electric guitar , an object lesson in what he calls the "reckless side of tradition.”
By the time "Angel of the Blues" appears here near the home stretch of the recording’s woefully short playing time of 36 plus minutes, the track offers yet another new texturein the form of acoustic piano. Honky Tonk has become less an exercise in style then a personal expression of Jay Farrar. As a result, the final two tracks "Barricades" and "Shine On," are so fundamentally positive, they act as final punctuation to the statement implicit in this album: Son Volt knows exactly what they’re doing.
