XL WEEKEND REVIEWS

Gob Iron

FOLK

Aldo Maura

(enlarge photo)

HALF AN UNCLE TUPELO IN EVERY GOB

Once upon a time there was Uncle Tupelo, a throwback roots-rock band fronted by Jay Farrar and Jeff Tweedy. They were the epitome of New Depression Era alt-country. When they broke up, Farrar formed Son Volt and Tweedy started Wilco. Anyone who's been listening to pop music in recent years knows who got the better end of that deal.

If not, Farrar showed he was the loser Friday at The Parish, playing a forlorn and monochromatic opening solo set. But eventually the new Tweedy in his life, Anders Parker, joined him for stirring renditions of the obscure folk numbers on "Death Songs for the Living," the album they've recorded under the name Gob Iron. As the name (slang for harmonica) suggests, Farrar, Parker and a third player were musically one and the same.

That was evident in their constant switching of instruments. On foot-stomping gospel opener "Death's Black Train," Parker manned the drums, while Farrar convinced us to make peace with our inevitable rides into the sunset. Later, on "Death Is Only a Dream," Parker empowered perspective, as Farrar's lap steel reverberated like a tweaked saw blade.

Gob Iron is home for Farrar. He doesn't have to exit Highway 61 or empty the whiskey bottle he's forever lamenting. But it's a hitchhiked ride to somewhere other than nowhere for Parker, an intriguing songwriter who has toiled in oblivion with his band Varnaline. After such a long road to full-circle, Farrar would seem to know better than to botch this deal.

— Michael Hoinski