It’s surprising to realize that Fire Out of Stone is only Austin’s Chuck Hawthorne’s second album. Right away, he presents himself as a fearless songwriter with the opening verse to “Such Is Life (C’est La Vie),”about a biker’s last ride – “He smelled like marijuana/ Two finger cologne/He smoked his Regal cigarettes/ Through an ancient saxophone.” He follows with the deeply personal, emotional “Amarillo Wind,” the gut-wrenching tale of love and death in West Texas, making it instantly clear that this is a special effort, many levels above run-of-the-mill singer-songwriter records. There are few reference points, perhaps somewhere between Eric Andersen and Guy Clark not just lyrically but because of Hawthorne’s half-sung, half-spoken delivery. Yes, just to be mentioned in the same breadth is quite an honor. Hawthorne, however, unlike Clark, is smooth rather than gruff and can sustain the notes on the choruses.
Hawthorne’s 2015 Silver Line was critically acclaimed so this one comes highly anticipated. That one contained stories of his military career and was produced by the gifted songwriter Ray Bonneville. He’s been touring in the state and Europe ever since, garnering the reputation as a “songwriter’s songwriter.” Others, like Butch Hancock and Clark, have generated that phrase too. This time Hawthorne turned to respected Texas songwriter Walt Wilkins to produce alongside Jumping Dog Studio owner Ron Flynt. Among others, Bonneville returns on harmonica and the versatile Geoff Queen plays various forms of slide, including pedal steel. It’s sensitive, accompaniment in support of the song despite the presence of nine musicians in the credits, appropriate given the potency of the lyrics. Hawthorne explores themes of transformative survival and healing, which Hawthorne discovered upon receipt of a gift from an old friend.
In Hawthorne’s words, “I’d purposely let a package that had been delivered to the house sit unopened on my workbench for quite some time. I knew the contents. Edith Dobson has thoughtfully sent her late husband’s final album to me from Switzerland. It wasn’t an album I wanted playing in the background as I shuffled around the shop; it deserved a genuine listen with a full spirit. {the same can be said about this one} Late one night, after all our houseguests made it to bed, I put Richard Dobson’s last record on and discovered the song “I Will Fight No More Forever.” I probably listened to it 20 times that night. The next day, I realized Dobson had gifted me the theme of my next album. I started looking into my back catalog selecting songs about survival, transition and moving on -crucible songs- making Fire Out of Stone. It turns out I had quite a few to pick from.”
The Dobson song is a rendition of Chief Joseph’s mantra and the listener must wait until the album’s last song to hear it. This is no cause for fretting as excellence abounds in each song, especially the somber reflection of a veteran in “New Lost Generation,” (with the line ”What are you supposed to do when your daddy walked on the moon?”) and “Arrowhead & Porcupine,” which has is the line from which the album takes its name and one that makes you hang on every word. Several are dedicated to friends he seems to have lost along the way. Consider these lines from “Worth of the Sea” –“When you hear/Cannons through your cabin door/What side are you on/My faithful commodore…When your window /Rattles from the pain/Of the rising anchor chain/I’ll be standing on the shore.” Or, from “Standing Alone” – “Were there beer cans on the floorboard/Were you listening to my song/When you shattered on that stone/left me standing alone…I was playing your guitar/The day I got the call/could not make it home/I left you standing there alone.”
Find yourself some privacy because you don’t want any interruptions. Keep in mind there are several songs that deserved to be listened to twenty times or more to appreciate the emotion, imagery, and deep respect for songcraft. It’s simply stunning.
