Music: CD Reviews
New album might give South Austin Jug Band the hit it needs
Web posted: Sept. 13, 2005
South Austin Jug Band: "Dark and Weary World"
(Blue Corn Music)
A band can toil for years, thrilling club crowds and preaching to the choir with every CD release, but then they'll record the magic song, the one that galvanizes the career and adds new fans by the truckload. The South Austin Jug Band has got a "Ghost" of a chance of breaking out nationally with a new tune that envelopes that man of constant phrasing, James Hyland, in a sweet snarl of fiddle and banjo, served with slices of mandolin. The new LP's "Ghost" would be the standout cut on an Uncle Tupelo album; it's that good.
One teensy knock on the band's second studio LP is that SAJB too often leaps out of its dark and weary mood for an light-headed crowd pleaser. Let me get to the point — I'm not a fan of Western swing, and the three Willsian selections have me hitting the skip button as fast as "Grasshopper" snatching the pebble. I will admit that the swing version of Gershwin's "Lady Be Good" is quite charming, but I could've done without "Karma" and "No Baby Swings Like Mine."
When you've got two nationally recognized fiddle players (Brian Beken and Dennis Ludiker, who plays more mandolin these days), the tendency is to display the full range, so there's the bluegrass overload of "Delirium," a sprightly cover of Bruce Robison's "She Don't Care About Me," and a pair of otherwordly instrumentals; the Celtic-inflected "Overdrivin' the Mic" and the Hot Club jazz of "Bluegrass In the Backwoods."
There is no finer string outfit in the state. The Jug band has always had hot players, but this Marvin Dykhuis-produced album shows that, as songwriters, they're ready for the bigger stage.
— Michael Corcoran
The South Austin Jug Band plays a record release show Thursday night at Antone's.
Bill Frisell: "East/West"
(Nonesuch)
The opposing compass points of Bill Frisell's latest title represent the locations of the two premier jazz clubs where this live double CD was recorded — New York's Village Vanguard and Yoshi's in Oakland, Calif. Beyond that, there is an essentially oriental/occidental dynamic at play on all these trio tracks, owing to the zenlike quality of the guitarist's spare and revelatory approach to a broad swath of musical Americana. Whether deconstructing Gershwin, Bob Dylan, Leadbelly or Motown, he brands it all with his understated virtuosity and daring, outside-the-box conception.
Frisell often employs brief, quirky loops to frame a song, thus putting a provocative spin on familiar material. His warped guitar timbres render Willie Nelson's "Crazy" a bit, well — crazy, but unhinged in a slightly goofy rather than desperate way. When he sounds the first phrase of the Streisand vehicle "People," we hear the audience snicker. "You think I'm joking, or what?" Frisell protests cheerfully, then proceeds to reveal the song's latent beauty in a way that makes us quickly forget our preconceptions of its limits.
This two-set performance is quintessential Frisell — painting delicate soundscapes when we expect fireworks, downplaying solo opportunities to explore the inner life of accompaniment figures, and consistently offering us as much the opposite of our normal expectations as east is to west.
— John Mills
The Hudsons: "Live Album"
(Beans and Rice)
There were 49 people in the studio during the recording of the Hudsons' sophomore album. That number might seem like overkill for a young band that still works for tips at Waterloo Ice House on Thursdays, but the album could not have been made without such an entourage — it gave the songs the edge that allows Hudson Mueller, Brian Hudson and Phoebe Hunt to be one of Austin's friendliest, cleverest and most honest folk trios.
Recorded at Flipnotics during two of their performances, "Live Album" finds the Hudsons two years after their debut album still just rollin' along with long-ago-created songs about people, partying and themselves. It's not that they haven't grown up — any recent show will prove they have sharpened their zesty singing and sensitive playing. The three are merely giving their fans what they ask for: audience favorites in their rawest (and best) form. "MC Devil's Son," "Party in the Sun" and "I Wish I Was a Hudson" surely could not have been captured any better had the trio been sitting comfortably in the finest of recording booths instead of sweating in the cramped space above Barton Springs in front of their loyal following.
— Jeff McCrary
