The brilliant singer-songwriter Malcolm Holcombe has issued 16 or more albums since the ‘90s and yet for many he remains undiscovered. His gruff, resonant, cigarette-burned voice is not made for commercial radio, nor are his literate, keenly observant songs, many of which have deceptively catchy hooks. Described by this writer as “a troubadour seemingly from another age” and by others as a “force of nature,” Holcombe is a singular voice and a national treasure. In fact, in the past year or two there have been rumblings of major health issues with Holcombe but this effort, Tricks of the Trade, is clearly one of the strongest in his revered catalog. Maybe there is something to that “force of nature” description. His vivid imagery can evoke characters right out of a Dickens novel or, closer to home, southern writers like Faulkner or Eudora Welty. Straight out of the Blue Ridge Mountains of North Carolina, Holcombe captures the downtrodden, mostly impoverished people of the region, their struggles, their hard-earned victories, and somehow many of his observations and short vignettes are widely applicable to all of us.
Holcombe has his own unique guitar style, a hybrid of fingerpicking and strumming, taking the listener from blues-based riffs to Celtic balladry. As an aside, if you get a chance to see Holcombe live, do so. He is absolutely riveting as he gets into a focused, almost hypnotic zone while rocking back and forth in his chair. That experience is a bit different from his recordings which involve his stellar longtime collaborators such as bassist Dave Roe and Jared Tyler on dobro, mandolin, guitars, and vocals, plugging in his electric guitar for some of these tunes. Produced by the team of Brian Brinkerhoff, Dave Roe, and Jared Tyler, the album also features Dave Roe’s son, Jerry Roe, on drums for most of the songs with Miles McPherson on the balance. Ron de la Vega adds cello to “Lenora Cynthia.” Last time out Holcombe had wonderful vocal support from Iris Dement and Greg Brown, and here Mary Gauthier and Jaimee Harris add to a number of songs, including “Higher Ground.”
From the outset Holcombe has money and the proverbial one percent on his mind and a not-so-subtle jab at POTUS 45 in the opening single and video made with Emma Swift, “Money Train,” to the strains of Tyler’s electric guitar – (all lower case in the lyrics) “pt barnum said/a sucker’s born ev’ry/minute/I’m standin’ in line/cause I got a ticket/for the money train… I gotta hot tub, a bathtub/a solar powered guitar/I clean up pretty good/and I turn it up louder/for the money train.” From the opening rocker, he turns to a country vibe in “Misery Loves Company” that rides along with Tyler’s dobro, in offering a bit of humor as if to take the edge off the angst of the opener. The theme of dealing with the money train returns in “Crazy Man Blues” while “Good Intentions” and “On Tennessee Land” offer pointed commentary on the plight of the lower classes as he sings to Tyler’s banjo in the latter – “ain’t nuthin’ good to say/’bout a politician’s plan/when a family goes hungry/ on Tennessee land.” The title track mixes these themes with some clever political banter.
The album is consistently strong throughout but arguably the three-song sequence of “Your Kin,” “Damn Rainy Day,” and “Higher Ground” is the apex. “Your Kin” has its indelible chorus – “cops take away your children, cops take away your kin,” railing against the border crisis. The perspective of the less privileged is best stated in “Damn Rainy Day” while “Higher Ground” has an indelible chorus sung with Mary Gauthier and Jaime Harris. Even in a tender love song such as “Leonora Cynthia,” Holcombe comes across as a poet of yesteryear. Just the insertion of the word “ramshackled” heightens the imagery in these lines –“reach over to the mornin’/speak softly passin’ by/the prison in my head/must live and never die/the floor is hard as nails/ramshackled broken steps/I stumble in your arms/lenora cynthia.”
“Windows of Amsterdam” is a song he has been singing live for the past few years and it too is highly memorable as he deplores the baseless rich taking advantage, emphatically echoing “dam, dam, dam” in the close. In his concluding statement “Shaky Ground” he balances the notion that although we are powerless, we should remain hopeful just the same. Here, and throughout, Holcombe’s determination cuts through the bitter commentary in his most strongly connected thematic work that stands as one of his best.
