Orville Davis
BarnBurner
Fountain Bleu
By Danté Dominick
 Don't
sweat it: I had never heard of Orville Davis before either. Since
my recent exposure, every guest to my humble abode has been introduced
as well. To date, no one has successfully guessed that this is
an actual modern country recording or that Davis lives and works
in New York City. There is little to indicate either. The latter,
the conspiracy theorist in me is convinced, must be an attention-getting
hoax: how on Earth a man who breathes Manhattan air can create
such perfect country music I will never, ever know.
BarnBurner's opener, "Knockin' At My Door,"
is heaven to a two-stepper's ears. This is quintessential classic
country shuffle: you can see the pianist's left-hand dancing
the bass line, the rhythm section could teach cows how to swing,
the pedal steel pirouettes in just the right places, the short
fiddle break is better than any since FM broke onto the scene,
and Davis' voice.ah, Davis' voice. Take the smooth of Don Williams,
the swoon of Glen Campbell, the stamp of authority of George
Jones and the confidence of Merle Haggard and you're on your
way to singing like Orville Davis.
If you come knocking on my door
Don't be surprised if I don't let you in
I can't take the heartaches anymore
So please, don't come knockin' at my door.
The only thing missing is the faint crackle of freshly minted
vinyl.
If someone claimed "Before You Loved Me" won Country
Song of the Year in 1972 no one would argue, except Davis I suppose,
since he wrote it and just recorded it last year. The lyrics
try to convince us the singer is content his relationship is
slipping, but Davis' gripping, despondent delivery gives away
the ruse.
Now that you're gone
It might be true
My life will be
Better without you
So take your new love
Who's really your old love
The love, before you loved me
"Don't Say You Love Me" finds the singer more honest,
admitting his regret for a love that's on the wrong course, yet
this time his spirit is triumphant:
Don't say you love me
Then try to change me
'Cause I'm looking at myself and I like what I see
Davis' band, The Wild Bunch, nail the swagger to the board
as he sings:
I'm taking back my pride at last
My dancing days are through
The next time I go 'round the floor
I won't be holding you
Speaking of dancing, "Callin' Janie" would have
the hep cats in San Diego or Austin off their feet faster than
a New York Minute, tossing their ruffle-skirted partners through
glorious aerial stunts, landing in-step on the downbeat ready
to jump, jive and wail some more.
"Line Dancin' Queen" is slicker, toying with '90s
country radio sensibilities. Through exhaustive research, this
song has been determined to be the first recording owing even
slight influence to barf-o-rama NashVegas Hat Acts and still
winding up a remarkably good single.
BarnBurner is an astounding success. In the same year
Robbie Fulks released his highly anticipated record, Georgia
Hard, after a four-year hiatus, Davis quietly distributed
his first record following an eight-year recording gap. Whereas
Fulks went to great lengths to announce his ode to 70s Countrypolitan
only to deliver a flat rendition of squeaky tunes, Davis went
ahead and said nothing and delivered a perfect, fresh recording
that nods to the greatest sounds of country's past without ever
once falling to hackneyed homage; indeed this is great music
of today that will sound even sweeter when played on some yet-to-be
invented playback medium of 2039.
www.orvilledavis.com
Contact Dante Dominick at dominick-at-rockzilla.net
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