Greg Trooper
Between a House and a Hard Place:
Live at Pine Hill Farm
McGonigel's Mucky Duck Records
By Al Kunz
 Common wisdom says
that the personal doesn't belong in musical critique. Most music
writers simulate Sergeant Friday's "just the facts, ma'am"
persona by avoiding the first person. Maybe the Publisher and
Editor of Rockzillaworld realize that couching what is
largely just one man's opinion in factual terms doesn't make
it any less subjective, but for whatever reason they are both
normally lenient in this regard. This review is likely to test
their tolerance. If you're reading this I must have snuck it
through. Read on and you'll find probably find out way more
than you care to about me. In the process you'll hear a little
about Greg Trooper too. What you are about to read is (mostly)
true, no names have been changed (they aren't that innocent anyway).
A little over a year ago I started my Rockzillaworld tenure
with a review of Greg Trooper's Straight Down Rain. To
that point my non-school writing experience was mostly limited
to shopping lists and memos. The only critiques I'd done were
employee performance appraisals. An understanding of what brought
me to that point (and also how and why I relate to Trooper's
Between a Rock and a Hard Place) requires going back a
few years. I'm tempted to start with wearing out Mom's 45 of
"I Walk the Line" b/w "Get Rhythm" sporting
that distinctive Sun label, but your patience might wear thin.
We'll skip the "rock years" when very little resembling
country music was allowed to penetrate my not so delicate eardrums.
Let's jump all the way to early 1998.
I'd arrived in Houston the previous fall. I was newly single,
a great job waited and there was money to burn. During a short
stint in Memphis I'd rekindled my dormant musical passions and
Houston's blues clubs seemed like the proper place to unload
some of that disposable cash. Sure, blues bands can often seem
derivative, but new and original music that appealed to me had
been hard to find the last several years. At least blues retreads
and Classic Rock radio was something I liked. Then came that
fateful day.
"Do you want to go see Greg Trooper with us tonight."
"Who the hell's Greg Trooper and what kind of music does
he play," I asked. "He's not country is he?"
My friend Diane's response was that he was "a singer-songwriter."
"What the hell, it'll be a change of pace," I thought.
Later that night my date and I joined Diane and Carol (previously
known in the pages of Rockzillaworld as "a friend
from Houston" and other less than clever aliases) at McGonigel's
Mucky Duck.
As I remember it that first night started with a short set
by the "Popular Demons," the band Trooper had assembled
to record and tour in support of his recently released disc of
the same name. They played a few songs recorded by Duane, the
lead guitarist. I was convinced I'd heard the best of these,
a song called "A Girl That's Hip," before. Probably
by the Kinks or some other British Invasion band. I even waylaid
Rick, the drummer, during the break to ask him about it. "No,
Duane wrote it with Tim Carroll." "Tim Carroll? Is
he local?" "Local to Nashville, yes," he answered.
("What an idiot," he thought.) I agreed. If I'd
known they were from Nashville I'd have stayed home.
Trooper's set would have started with "Halfway,"
a plea to an estranged lover for a second chance that also seemed
like a pact with the audience. It was as if he was saying, "meet
me halfway, listen with open ears and mind, just give me a decent
chance. I promise it will pay off." It did. By the end
of the night he'd performed a cross-section of his songs. It
was a little bit country (performing "We Won't Dance,"
covered by Vince Gill on his When I Call Your Name disc).
It was a little bit rock and roll ("Little Sister,"
Trooper's tune recorded by Steve Earle). But it was nothing
like Donny and Marie (the sing-along "Another Shitty Saturday
Night" for example). I didn't know what the hell to call
it, but whatever it was Trooper had gained at least one more
lifetime fan.
It was also a new musical beginning. Carol and Diane acted
as a guide, directing me to other performers that sang rootsy
music with the attitude and edginess that had attracted me to
Johnny Cash as a kid. Every few months I'd see Greg Trooper
when he'd come to Houston, sometimes with a band, sometimes playing
as part of a songwriter-in-the-round show with other performers
like Amy Rigby, Fred Eaglesmith, or Bruce Robison. Eventually
I realized that these disparate artists had at least a couple
things in common. They wrote most of their own songs, they were
described as "Americana," and I liked them all. Through
the wonders of the Internet I could even find others flying below
the radar of corporate radio, making good music in spite (maybe
because) of that. But no matter how many artists I found and
liked Trooper remained near the top of my list.
Over the years Carol and I have often fantasized that someday
Trooper would record a live album. I've seen him perform with
band and solo, in rowdy bars and a Denver folk club. One time
the audience consisted entirely of members of the opening band,
me (in a rather drunken, obnoxious state), and my date. Regardless
of venue, audience, or format Trooper's performance has always
been great, so our fantasies weren't concerned with any of that.
Instead we were hoping for two things. First, that some of
Trooper's witty, between-song patter would make it to disc and
second, that he'd include some of his less serious songs and
favorite covers we didn't expect he'd record otherwise. Trooper's
Between a House and a Hard Place Live at Pine Hill Farm
disc (remember Live at Pine Hill, this review is about
Live at Pine Hill) is just what we had in mind. That
the disc even exists is interesting, illustrating how the music
business has changed over the last several years.
In early 2000 Trooper found himself two years past his last
release. The A&R man who signed him to Koch records had
moved on leading to an all-too-typical result, no record contract.
Fans were eager for something new, but a studio album wasn't
imminent. I can imagine the thought process he might have gone
through. Maybe a short-term solution would be a live album.
Song selection could be representative of his typical show at
the time. If he did it as a bare-bones acoustic show his longtime
fans might hear the old songs differently, maybe hear something
they'd missed in the full-band, studio versions. New fans could
get a single disc with his greatest-oughta-be hits-- the best
songs from his career thus far. He could self-release it to
sell at shows and on the web while searching for a new record
label. It was a good idea. He just needed to work out the logistics,
coordinate a few schedules, and decide on the best show to record.
Which logically leads to Steve Gardner.
I know. Who's Steve Gardner? During the day Steve Gardner
makes a buck as an employee of Sugar Hill Records (among other
things acting as producer for Sugar Hill's Mother's Day compilation. But during his
off-hours he DJs a weekly radio show, publishes a music webzine,
and promotes house concerts. Trooper had performed in the past
at one of Gardner's house concerts. When he was booked for another
show by 40 Acres, a non-profit organization Gardner helped form
to promote roots music, Trooper decided to record that show.
He arranged for Americana super-producer Eric "Roscoe"
Ambel to bring his mobile recording studio from New York to Pine
Hill Farm in Durham, North Carolina and everything was set.
After an introduction from Steve Gardner, Trooper launches
into what was a typical set list during this period, although
he does mix things up by reserving his normal opener "Halfway"
until the end. Mike McAdam (Steve Earle, Radney Foster) accompanies
Trooper throughout, beefing up the sound on electric and acoustic
guitars without sacrificing the feel of a solo-acoustic show.
My favorite sing-along, "Another Shitty Saturday Night,"
the tale of a loser whose weekends make my virtually nonexistent
love life seem exciting makes it to disc for the first time.
Well I pick up the phone and I call up my ex
I hang it up quick, I wonder if she suspects
Then I let out the cat, and I let him back in
That's all she left, she didn't even like him
Well, I've got a good job, down at the plant
The union's so strong, I'll never get canned
And I got money to burn, and I'll spend it on you
You wanta know why, 'cus Friday stunk too
Saturday night, Saturday night, ohhhh
Another shitty Saturday night
Trooper covers the gamut from dark (all strung out on heroin
in his cover of Warren Zevon's "Carmelita") to the
comedic "So French," one of Trooper's songs unlikely
to make the cut for a studio release, but essential for a full
understanding of his appeal. Of all his songs this is the most
likely to bring out his self-depreciating side, calling the song
goofy or joking about needing a co-writer to write something
this bad. After all, you can't take a silly song with lyrics
that rhyme PePe LePew, Gerard Depardiu and Texas barbecue too
seriously. But it has what I've described before as the Roger
Miller factor. On the surface it's fun and may not seem like
much more. Dig deeper, analyze why the song works, and you'll
discover more. In this case Trooper has perfectly captured the
silly, sometimes goofy side most of us hide in public, but, with
the right person, in private, might just allow out. If turning
the mirror on us by capturing common feelings, emotions, and
experiences in a way we can relate isn't a sign of good songwriting
I don't know what is.
New versions of favorites from Trooper's prior releases include
"Ireland" (about "a girl from Brooklyn,"
his wife Claire Mullally) "Lovin Never Came That Easy,"
and the title cut from his Everywhere disc. Although
predating it by ten years this is the song I find myself wishing
open minded radio executives were playing as a counterpoint to
all the post 9-11 songs. The story of two World War II soldiers
it explores war, patriotism, and war-caused racism, all pertinent
to today's world, without pretending to have all the answers,
but definitely raising the right questions. Toby Keith and Steve
Earle could both learn something here.
Pickup your own copy of Between a House and a Hard Place
- Live at Pine Hill Farm at McGonigel's Mucky Duck in Houston,
any of Trooper's performances, or by visiting www.gregtrooper.com
EPILOUGE
Live at Pine Hill Farm
Is ready for release when Steve Wilkeson (the ex-A&R man
from Koch records) signs Trooper to Eminent Records, the company
he's just formed. Eminent procures the rights to Pine Hill,
intending to release it as a follow-up to Trooper's next studio
effort, Straight Down Rain. Trooper reacquires rights
to the disc when Eminent's financial woes prevent its release,
eventually self-releasing the disc as originally planned, but
two years later, in late 2002.
Carol and Diane
Are forced to go into protective custody for a short time
after I realize they hadn't suggested seeing the Hollisters the
entire time I lived in Houston, but they continue sending me
musical tips.
Rick "the drummer" Schell
Is now the drummer for the up-and-coming Americana band Pinmonkey,
which has somehow found the formula to actually get played on
mainstream radio.
Duane "the guitarist" Jarvis
The former guitarist for the Divinyls and Lucinda Williams
polishes the gold record he received for "Still I Long for
Her Kiss," the song he co-wrote with Williams for her Grammy
winning Car Wheels on a Gravel Road disc. His latest
release (Certified Miracle) received a 5-star review from the
German edition of Rolling Stone and a pretty good write-up from
Rockzillaworld too.
Steve Gardner
Severed ties with 40 Acres, but continues his involvement
promoting music through his radio show and his webzine where Rockzillaworld readers
should be able to spot at least one familiar byline.
Greg Trooper
Continues building his fan base with frequent touring in the
U.S. and Europe, headlining in clubs and recently opening a series
of shows for John Prine in larger venues. Steve Gardner's Sugar
Hill Records recently signed him to a contract.
And since that fateful night that seems much longer than five
years ago I've discovered that while the Americana label is new
the music isn't. It's The Band and New Riders of the Purple
Sage. It's Gram Parsons and Johnny Cash. It's the music I always
liked. And I've also realized that I remember those country
songs from the years when I claimed not to be listening. Must
have been selective memory. That I'm here, searching for good
music to tell you about in the pages of Rockzillaworld,
can be traced back to one performer. With apologies to Fred
Eaglesmith and legions of Freddies (Eaglesmith's over enthusiastic
fans) "You changed my life Man."
Contact Al Kunz at kunz-at-rockzilla.net
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