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Fast-forward a month. It's the third night of Twangfest in St. Louis. The previous evening peaked when music journalist Roy Kasten went crowd surfing and Slobberbone bassist Brian Lane followed Kasten's lead, surfing the crowd during his solo. I saw the third night's lineup as the weakest of the festival and didn't see any way it could top the previous night. I was wrong. The night started loud and rocking with Columbus, Ohio's Sovines playing original music equally influenced by Johnny Cash and Iggy Pop. Kelly Hogan followed with a set that matched her hype, more than making up for the disappointing performance I'd seen last fall. The night ended with Calvin Cooke's Sacred Steel Ensemble (as close to a religious experience as I've had in a long time) and west-coast honky-tonker James Intveld. In the middle of these was a performance by Tommy Womack and his band. Just before sunrise I crawled into bed with my head still pounding, my ears still ringing, and a smile on my face. I was way past being able to put the night into perspective. But I did know it was a night to remember, and Tommy Womack had been a large part of it. The arrival of Circus Town in my mailbox was the perfect opportunity to decide how good Tommy Womack is without the distractions. The answer is pretty damn good. Stylistically Circus Town is impossible to pigeonhole. "Nancy Dunn," his tale of young lust ("If it was bad, it was me doing to you / You were cool, I was not, you had class, I had a shot"), his tribute to "The Replacements," and the title track all have roots in the storytelling tradition of folk with the minimal instrumentation of an acoustic gig. "We Can't Do this Anymore" verges on country and the bonus track, "I'm Selling Mom's Urine on Ebay," has caught the ear of Dr. Demento. I'm selling' Mom's urine on Ebay Climbing the corporate ladder All of these are worthwhile tracks, but Womack is at his best when he rocks. Sometimes this is a rootsy sound with unorthodox lyrical rhymes like, "My Name is Mud," the story of a husband who strayed ("My name is mud, my name is mud / I'm a great big stud and my name is mud"). Womack reminds me of Nashville roots-rock compatriot Duane Jarvis on both "Mud" and "Tough," the opening cut. Like Jarvis, Womack can hook the casual listener with rhyme, guitar riff, or a more traditional hook, but listen closely and you'll discover lyrical depth you didn't anticipate. When a dream dies in a lonely room, it don't burn the sun When the juice runs out of a tired jam, it don't make the
news You're gonna learn how tough you are when you need to be Other times Womack blows the harmonica, as on "The Highway's Coming," for a bluesy twist or adds steel guitar for a touch of twang on "You Could Be at the Beach Right Now, Little Girl," where he's backed by vocalist Lisa Oliver Gray. Womack and co-producer David Henry also enlisted a stellar collection of fellow musicians including Will Kimbrough playing guitar, bassist Dave Jacques, and drummer Will Rigby. Then there's keyboardist Ross Rice, billed as "Keith Emerson having a seizure," on the punk-rockish "You Can't Get from Here." Imagine Emerson (during his pre-ELP days with the Nice) jamming with the Ramones and you'll have the right idea. You can't get there from here. Hitler is a queer So often I hear discs where every song sounds the same. Even if I like the sound I'd prefer a little more variety. But I still expect a coherent whole without jarring transitions from song to song. Tommy Womack has managed to do this while cutting a musical swath wider than I imagined possible. Circus Town is destined for high rotation in my player. *Visit www.tommywomack.com
to find out about Womack's book, The Cheese Chronicles.
While there you can find out why Womack says, "as a recording
artist, as a writer, I'm a pretty good Dad." |
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