Austin’s Derailers are
channeling Bakersfield better than anybody except maybe Dwight, and
they’re doing a fine job of it. It’s the kind of bare bones honky-tonk
that fills countless clubs and bars across the country, a music
that strikes at the heart and soul of the country genre. I listen and think,
finally: steel guitar breaks right where I expect them. An unpretentious bass line. Background singing from actual band members. Reverb. Songs about girls. There are no surprises, no obnoxious
cross-genre pollination, nothing that would scare Tommy Duncan, and the band is not trying hard impress me. Hell, I won’t ask for more in a country record! From the
first track, I can smell the stale beer and hear the empties shuffling
underfoot. It's a feeling that brother Robert or Lyle give me each and every time I listen to them, a feeling that's getting hard to find these days at the record shop. The Derailers' lyrics are simple and easily related to, the themes old as nails: love, loss, other stuff like that. It's like a love letter to life cooked up by a bunch of guys in attractive suits with matching boots. Produced by Dave
Alvin and supported by a cast of veteran string bangers, Full Western Dress is one of
the most earnest stabs at country music I’ve heard in 25 years. Thank
you, Derailers, for getting it all back on the track.
Dave Alvin was responsible for
the white hot guitar leads in The Blasters and true to those colors, he
often fronts a gloriously loud rock group. But the plaintive and comparatively subdued King of California proves his
versatility. It’s another installment of the lock-and-stock brand of Americana that he does so well,
although here he is supported by a smaller, more intimate band. Session man extraordinaire Greg
Leisz does really sweet accompaniment on a variety of guitars which lend
the album much tonal color and ear candy. Alvin’s own nicotine-tarred vocals
(a far cry from brother Phil's moon-mad roadhouse howl) and six-string instrumental
abilities are also noteworthy. But it’s Alvin's mature songwriting that
brings it all together. The songs spin meandering, desperado yarns that
are equal parts honky tonk, Delta blues, and rock and roll. They touch on universal themes in poetic ways and unfold like novels. "Fourth of July" has a heartsick narrative of two lovers in trouble with their relationship and a musical accompaniment that buoys your hope for them as much as they seem uncertain about their own future. We've all been there, the feeling is plain to see, yet Alvin paints the picture so perfectly that I want to jump up and scream, 'Yes! That's it, he nailed it!' It’s such a
convincing act that I’m hard pressed to believe Alvin is from
California, and not Texas. There's more in store, too. “Little Honey” was written with John Doe, as
if any name dropping is needed. To keep you
guessing, the duets “Goodbye Again” with wonderful Rosie Flores and “What Am I
Worth” with Syd Straw provide additional variety and justify a cursory inspection of the record, should you not get along with the rest. After finishing this album, and several repeat listens, I found myself fevered to lay hands on all the Dave Alvin material I could find. So beware, late night shoppers, it's addictive!
