Philip Gibbs
Paper Crosses
Independent
By Danté Dominick
 Paper Crosses
doesn't break new ground, but then a hearty steak and potato
dinner is hardly revolutionary, but often enough it's the only
thing you want or need.
Somehow while listening I get the feeling I'm in the car on
a long drive, staring blankly out the window hypnotized
by the landscape as it breezes by. Rambling countryside has a
way of making a traveler ponder their experiences, sorrows and
successes and the songs of Paper Crosses approach common
subjects and emotions that just about anyone living this thing
we call life has experienced. Maybe that's why the disc has me
seeing my reflection in a car window despite sitting comfortably
on my couch.
The melodies are pleasant enough but it is the tempo that
really makes this disc stick. If there were a race Paper Crosses
would be neither the turtle nor the hare. Steady and rolling,
giving time to enjoy and leaving enough room to make that, "yeah,
I've been there," connection with the song. The drums (J.J.
Johnson) are usually soft and scored perfectly. On "Box
Bought on Sale," Johnson lightly taps the snare in sixteenth
notes with emphasis on every other whole note rat-a-tat-a-TAT-a-tat-a-rat-a-tat-a-TAT-a-tat-a
capturing the soundtrack to a train ride through the Midwest;
the flat expanse guarantees a consistent pace as the wheels rambling
along the track provide a soothing serenade. Sure an airplane
will get you there faster, but you take in a lot more when you
take your time.
Gibbs proves to be a sensible and crafty songwriter. Nearly
everyone who has ever written a song or poem has penned some
verses about their limitless love for another that goes unreturned.
So again, we're not blazing new territory, but Gibbs' contribution
to this canon, "Pushing Me Away," is apt with its honest
clarity and succinct brevity. Although it's in 4/4 time, "Pushing
Me Away" gives a kind of waltzy feel. It's a rustic tune
that seems to find a guy who used to swagger but now walks with
head down, hands in pockets, kicking loose pebbles and thinking
about what could've been.
Well, my brain understands but my heart will never get
it
Why you're pushing me away.
If I could catch the sun and give it to you
It probably wouldn't do me any good
But if waiting's what I have to do
Wainting's what I'm gonna do
If I had to wait I lifetime, well, I guess I would, I guess I
would.
Holding on to these feelings is pointless at best and it's
evident he understands this fact perfectly. Some things are easier
said than done. By repeating the tag line, "I guess I would,"
it is clear to see the singer shaking his head and rolling his
eyes in exasperation with himself. "Pushing Me Away"
is a dignified lament.
A newcomer, Gibbs' effort benefits from the production of
Stephen Doster (Nancy Griffith, Stanley Smith) who has proven
to be perfectly tactful in the studio. Sometimes what is left
out is as important as what is added and Doster continually avoids
the pitfall of over doing things. Gibbs voice is low and scratchy
with a sense of yearning. The music is appropriately subtle,
very suitable for the heartfelt lyrics and delivery of the songs.
Gibbs provides the rhythm guitar and sometimes chimes in with
the harmonica strapped around his neck. Ivory keys add some bright
elements under the fingers of Cole El-Saleh. Doster accompanies
on guitar and a venerable list of Austin greats make guest appearances
Erik Hokkanen, Ephraim Owens, Stanley Smith these
folks are more than capable of laying down incredible solos.
But to everyone's credit, the vision is never lost.
I've been to the Rockies and Himalayas
The Appalachians and Shenandoah
And the weather, it always feels fine
Like a dry mouth drinking wine
And I think I'd like to stay here all the time
But one thing about these mountains here
It sure can get real lonesome here
It's just one more place to disappear
A little introspection is good; sometimes one just needs to
take time to focus on their own self Asia or Aspen, contemplation
apparently isn't concerned with geography. A blistering solo
could do nothing but ruin the mood being presented.
The cameos help keep Paper Crosses fresh. "You're
Gonna Get What's Coming To You" revolves around Smith's
clarinet and "Jose Limon" benefits from Owen's trumpet.
The very sprite "Let It Die" is spurred on by Hokkanen's
fiddle. With the availability of such aces, the temptation to
feature some incredible instrumental moments had to occur (especially
in context with today's industry standard to spice everything
up to no end). Thankfully good sense prevailed another
place, another time.
www.philipgibbs.com
dominick-at-rockzilla.net
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