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Grey De Lisle
Bootlegger vol.1
Hummin'Bird Records
By Marianne Ebertowski
 No matter what people
say, sometimes you can judge an album by the cover, and
Grey De Lisle' s Bootlegger Vol.1 turned out to be one
of those times. It shows a yellow-brownish tinted retro-photograph
of a woman with an autoharp roaring into a microphone with Patsy
Cline-like determination. It's a cover shot that makes you curious,
it expresses urgency - you cannot possibly put something else
in your CD player first. I didn't hesitate and I wasn't let down.
It's the muffled sound of an autoharp you hear first and then
in comes one of the most remarkable female voices I have heard
for a long time. De Lisle's voice is big, breathy and dramatic,
a bit camp at times which is helped by the fact that she interprets
quite a few songs from a male perspective. Here on the first
track, the lady sings Elvis: "That's Alright Mama."
It's just the autoharp and her for a while, then a very loud
rock(abilly)band joins the two of them, threatening to sweep
them away like a hurricane, but Grey and her fragile instrument
resist heroically till the band calms down and obeys its mistress'
voice with docility. Then there's a roar of applause. Bootlegger
is a live album after all, recorded at The Scene in Glendale,
CA. That explains the poor sound quality - tinny and awkward
most of the time, as if it was recorded on someone's walkman.
But that doesn't spoil the fun, because fun is what this album
is all about.
With "Homewrecker" Grey De Lisle and her Homewreckers
(the band is called after the titlesong of her second album),
continue in the Elvis-mood. De Lisle has co-written the song
with Murry Hammond, her bass-playing husband, better known in
Dallas and surroundings as a member of the Old 97's. Hammond
and drummer Perry Ostrin safeguard the band's sanity while guitarist
Willie Aron goes haywire. In the process Hammond gives his wife
a chance to smuggle her autoharp into the song for a moment before
she is driven out again by Aron's guitar's feedback
"Frozen in Time," a sturdy post punk rocker is co-written
by producer and multi-instrumentalist Marvin Etzioni, whom many
of you may remember as the bass player for L..A.'s Lone Justice,
a band probably best remembered for its belting vocalist Maria
McKee who would have done a pretty good job on this one as well.
After that De Lisle makes an abrupt retreat from noiseland
and gives a riveting performance of A.P. Carter's "My Dixie
Darling." Here it's just Grey De Lisle and her autoharp
for a while, then - gently - an electric guitar enters, then
drums and bass and soon guitars are being thrashed around all
over the place till your ears bleed and when De Lisle sings about
"all those girls I long to squeeze" she sounds like
she really means business.
Appalachian folklore is followed by Latin tradition. In "Usted,"
a song taught to De Lisle by her grandmother Eva Flores Ruth,
a vocalist who had an occasional stint with Tito Puente's orchestra,
Grey De Lisle shows that she is a very fine vocalist indeed.
Unfortunately, when the other band members join into the chorus,
it makes the song topple into (unintentional?) parody.
Murry Hammond duets with his wife on "Showgirl"
(written by both of them) and, frankly, he sounds a bit lost
and clueless and because Willie Aron's guitar solo's are mainly
loud and annoying and don't really go anywhere, this potentially
great song turns into the weakest performance on this live album.
It gets better again with the Brian Wilson/Roger Christian
composition "Don't Worry Baby," another song courageously
interpreted by Grey De Lisle from a male point of view, a perspective
she continues without frowning in Anny Celsi's great "Western"
ballad 'T Was Her Hunger, " where she has a "trusting
wife and pretty children." It's a great ballad of seduction
and the charm and wickedness of beautiful women: "when I
met her I was fine/it was her hunger brought me down." There's
some nice keyboard work by Marvin Etzioni which is helped to
smithereens by Aron's loud feedbacking guitar.
Out of the feedback emerges the punkish "The Hole,"
written by De Lisle and Marvin Etzioni, where, unfortunately,
the band's so loud you can't quite hear what she's singing. It
finally gets quiet on "Ferris Wheels and Freakshows,"
another De Lisle/Etzioni composition, a waltz-like tune introduced
on piano, in which De Lisle reveals her seductive cabaret-singer
side, a new aspect of the talents she has already displayed.
Which makes you wonder: who, after all, is Grey De Lisle?
Well, you actually might know her, or rather her voice, from
The Flintstones or Scooby Doo, because Ms De Lisle, a San Diego
native of Mexican-Irish descent, earns her living as a voice
actress. This explains that De Lisle can literally do anything
with her voice which, maybe, might turn into a problem for her
as a singer: will the real Grey De Lisle stand up?
But, one thing is sure, Grey De Lisle is an exceptional singer
with a passion and a feel for traditional country music and she
has the guts to do whatever she wants no matter what anyone,
including this critic, will say - and whatever that will be:
I second that emotion.
www.greydelisle.com
Contact Marianne Ebertowski at ebertowski-at-rockzilla.net
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