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The Shiners
See Rock City
Planetary Records
By Steve Cooper
 Wherein
ex-Dirtball-ers Wes Freed and wife Jyl form a new band with another
musical husband-and-wife team, Steve and Teresa Douglas, and
proceed to assault the Americana market with their unique brand
of hokum, hoe-down, Southern rock/grass. How one feels about
this, their sophomore effort, depends on how one feels about
hokum in general. At times, it strikes me as a bit jive. Sorry
about that, Ellie Mae. At other times, when they turn down the
cornbread factor, they connect with some fine songwriting and
singing (not "sangin'").
The "Dukes of Hazzard" lyrics and packaging can
swiftly become a tad much. First of all, the Freeds are from
Richmond, Virginia. Hardly the deep, deep South. They may brew
Chardonnay in Richmond, but they don't brew corn-squeezins.
Wes Freed's potent voice recalls that of the late, lost soul
Jeffrey Fredericks of Jeffrey Fredericks and the Clamtones fame.
(See the classic Have Moicy! album with Michael Hurley
and the Holy Modal Rounders.) When used properly, Freed's singing
walks the same ragged-but-right path taken by such as Peter Stampfael,
Jim Kweskin, and John Herald. When the drawl is turned up a
notch or two beyond believability, the Shiners can fall into
dreaded Goose Creek Symphony/Charlie Daniels territory.
When the Shiners do play it straight up, as on the opening
track, "As the Crow Flies," they are a force to be
reckoned with. The song, written by Freed, achieves its dark,
rural mystery without using a Stars-n-Bars shovel. Lines such
as "There's nothing here for me/But stories better left
untold" say a lot without saying a lot. The following song,
"Hurricane Blues," a Southern rock tune punctuated
by Teresa Douglas' fiddle and Steve Douglas' Dicky Betts-style
lead guitar, also connects. Again written by Freed, it is essentially
a fiddle tune played by a rock band. Jyl Freed harmonizes on
lead with her husband to great effect. The chorus is a natural
hook: "Hang on baby, grab the radio/We're gonna drive faster
than we ever drove before/Hang on baby, turn up the radio/Ol'
Hank Williams gonna get us down the road."
And then we come to the land of jive. "Test Drive,"
an over-extended car/heart metaphor, is Play-Doh country. Not-so-ably
sung by Jyl Freed, it sounds like a demo. The only thing worthy
in it is guest picker Mike Lucas' pedal steel. Saying "fer"
instead of "for" may be fine for a local theater's
production of "Lil' Abner," but it kills credibility
in a country song.
Another jive tune, "Lookout Mountain Girl," written
by Steve and Teresa Douglas, treads dangerously close to country
parody. The only thing missing is a "yee-haw" and
a jug marked "XXX." "Tavern Song" is yet
another song that plays to the cheap seats. Wes Freed turns
the up the Southern brogue ("warsh" instead of "wash")
and off they wander down Charlie Daniels Lane: "This old
dirt road makes a crunchin' sound/Underneath my wore out boot
heels." And the neon sign screams: "WE'RE BEING RURAL
NOW."
Just when I'm ready to trip the CD eject button and skim Rock
City across the nearest pond, on comes "Mr. Scarecrow,"
a tale of a Stephen King straw man, and suddenly the "dirt
road" pretenders are back on track again. In other words,
they evoke the shadowy, rural muse of a James Dickey, rather
than, say, Jeff Foxworthy. Married to a convincing tune with
a not-so-affected lead vocal, even lines like "When the
moonshine rolls around/I swear by the gods I see him move"
go down easy.
The final two Shiner-penned cuts on Rock City, bass
player Greg Harrup's "Time For One More" and Freed's
"Dixie Lullaby," pick up where the opening salvo of
"As the Crow Flies" and "Hurricane Blues"
left off. The former is a drinking tune that doesn't try too
hard and succeeds on simple melody and simple, alcoholic sentiment:
"Until it's dawn and I'm crawling out the door/Give me one
more." "Dixie Lullaby" finds Freed in a convincing,
country ballad mood: "The stars fall on Dixie/Her blanket
is the velvet sky." Freed's plaintive lead vocal is soulful
and true.
Therefore (and in closing), file this review under "mixed."
When the Shiners decide to tone down the Rebel-mania, and prevail
or plunge based solely on their music, they just might lay something
down for the ages. You know, shine without moonshine.
www.planetaryrecords.com
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