Jeff McCord on the month’s new releases
Rodney Crowell
Yep Roc
Few would dispute that after a long career of starts and stops, Rodney Crowell is again firing on all cylinders. After early success with a string of remarkable hits, the Houston songwriter settled in for a champion slump. Yet beginning with 2001’s The Houston Kid, he released a trio of rejuvenated recordings, and following a three-year hiatus, Sex & Gasoline (Yep Roc) picks right up where those left off. Well, mostly. The angry, muscular rock of 2005’s The Outsider has given way to an appealing, if slightly more languid, mid-period Dylan sound—albeit one with the distinctive rubbery textures of producer Joe Henry. Crowell has always worn his heart on his sleeve, at times to a fault, but he’s found that sweet spot between art and true confessions. By avoiding the latter (only “Closer to Heaven” qualifies here), his lyrical work finds universal appeal. The songs—which, as always, are focused on making sense of the modern world and, more specifically, the women in it—range from fatalistic to idyllic. He’s mastered his craft, even if the search for logic still eludes him.
I’m Not JiM
Bloodshot
After two decades as a fan of the Silos, acclaimed author Jonathan Lethem finally approached the group’s front man, Walter Salas-Humara, at a show. They made small talk about co-writing, but it was only after Salas-Humara read (and was blown away by) Lethem’s The Fortress of Solitude that the partnership really got under way. Lethem planned to add a line to a Silos song or two, but new Austinite Salas-Humara had something else in mind: an entire album set to Lethem’s lyrics. Joined by musicians Philip Hernandez and Chris Maxwell (Lethem does not play an instrument), the curiously named collective, I’m Not JiM, produced a fascinating recording, You Are All My People (Bloodshot). Salas-Humara’s vocals naturally evoke the minimalist rock of the Silos (“Amanda Morning” would fit in on any of their albums), but Lethem gives the listener plenty to chew on: His lyrics turn edgy (“Drink ’Til I’m Sober”), enigmatic (“Elevated Plane”), and mournful (“After Mild Winter”), and the players respond in kind. While so many side projects seem designed more for musicians than fans, I’m Not Jim is a unique and winning collaboration.
Brothers and Sisters
Calla Lily Music
One of the last things you might expect to burst the cynical bubble of indie rock would be Austin’s Brothers and Sisters. Yet this hippieish seven-piece, led by siblings Lily and Will Courtney, has found itself wowing black-clad teens and sharing the stage with bands like . . . And You Will Know Us by the Trail of Dead. The Courtneys’ adoration of sixties pop makes their music play like something straight out of the Wayback Machine: Despite its modern guitar slash, this is the sound of the Byrds, the Mamas and the Papas, John Sebastian, Alex Chilton, and a thousand genre-bending one-hit wonders. Fortunately (Calla Lily Music), the band’s sophomore effort, manages to keep Brothers and Sisters’ sunny pop from sounding sickly sweet. This is partly thanks to the arrangements, which retain the circuslike, cluttered atmosphere of the group’s live shows. But it also has to do with the songs themselves, the best of which (“Mason City,” “You’re Gone”) jangle without sounding like jingles. Armed with a boatload of hooks, the Courtneys harmonize effortlessly, and all of a sudden, it’s 1966 all over again. What’s not to like?
Roky Erickson
His 13th Floor Elevators spearheaded the sixties psychedelic rock movement, but drugs and mental illness would later keep him out of the limelight. An appearance at the 2005 Austin City Limits Music Festival marked his first full-length concert in decades, and since then he has played steadily. He’s set to return to the ACL festival this month.
What do you remember most from the Elevators days?
The Elevators were, like, making friends with the police. It was like looking at a statue or something like that, you know? You would have to interpret it to be sure what it was; you had to do that all the time. But it was exciting—it was like being James Brown and the Famous Flames.
Not so long ago, a return to the stage seemed unlikely for you. What turned things around?
Just takin’ it easy and gettin’ away from things that are threatening to me. If I forgot a song, then the audience would help me. They would sing to me, you know, while I performed and make sure I was doin’ all right.
You’ve had a lot going on: a European tour, a recording session with Scotland’s Mogwai, and now you’re back at the ACL fest.
Yes, I am! I’m looking forward to it a lot.
