Ramblin' Jack Elliott Reviews 1 2
RAMBLIN’
JACK ELLIOTT TO RELEASE ANTI DEBUT
I
STAND ALONE
ON
JULY 11, 2006
Ramblin’
Jack Elliott
is preparing to release his Anti- Records debut album I
Stand Alone on July 11, 2006.
With sparse backing from some of today’s most respected musicians
(Flea, Lucinda Williams, Nels Cline, David Hidalgo, Corin Tucker, DJ Bonebrake),
the record simmers
with reflection and humor.
Mentored
by Woodie Guthrie
himself, Jack is one of the key
artists responsible for the worldwide embrace of American folk music starting in
the 1960s, along the way, inspiring an army of musicians: influencing a young
Bob Dylan, inadvertently firing up the British Invasion (Elliott's "San
Francisco Bay Blues" was one of the first songs Paul McCartney learned to
play; Mick Jagger bought his first guitar after hearing Elliott busking on train
platform in London), and influencing several generations of musicians including,
Lou Reed, Van Morrison, Mick Ronson, Kris Kristoffersen, Robbie Robertson, Bruce
Springsteen and Beck.
Winning
a Grammy in 1996 for his ‘Southcoast’ recording, and then being awarded the
National Medal of Arts from President Clinton in 1999 continued to put Jack in
the national limelight. He garnered two more Grammy nominations for his
recordings “Friends of Mine” and “The Long Ride” produced by Roy Rogers
in 1998 and 1999. In
2001 The Ballad of Ramblin’ Jack was
released by his daughter which was a narrative documentary about his life, and
the public gained more insight into the amazing life that Jack has led. The
film received extensive play on the Sundance channel, exposing many to unique
style of this living legend.
Elegant
and wise, I Stand Alone showcases his
ever-deepening interpretive skills, vocal phrasing and expert timing. From
soulful reading of the Carter Family’s “Engine 143” to the Honky-Tonk
exuberance of “Drivin’
Nails In My Coffin”, to the melancholy yodel of “Blue”, Jack
delivers the goods on all fronts.
Other highlights include his reworking of Hoagy Charmichael’s “Hong
Kong Blues”, the playfulness of “Call Me A Dog” the drama of “Rake and
Ramblin Boy” and the spoken-word tenderness of the albums closer, “Woody’s
Last Ride”, where he is backed by delicate ambience from the band.
On
I Stand Alone, Ramblin’
Jack succeeds in tying together many strains of American music into one
singular and wholly identifiable creation, and one of the most moving and
poignant albums of his storied career.
In
support of the new album, Jack will
be performing selected tour dates including the Hardly Strictly Bluegrass in San
Francisco and more around the United States and Europe.
For
advance music or further information, please contact Hilary Villa at
213-413-7353 or hilary@epitaph.com.
Ramblin'
Jack Elliott, aged to perfection
'I
Stand Alone' stands with folk legend's best
By James Reed, Globe Staff |
July 9, 2006
The
older Ramblin' Jack Elliott gets, the more he sounds like he has always tried
to sound. That is, weathered, world-weary, swaggering, and maybe just a little
bit dangerous if you crossed him. Now a feisty 74, this folk icon has just made
one of his best albums, which, in a career spanning more than 20 records and 50
years, is saying quite a bit.
Elliott
releases ``I Stand Alone" Tuesday on Anti- Records, an indie label that in
recent years has rejuvenated the careers of icons such as Solomon Burke and
Bettye LaVette. By accident or design, this collection of songs, which Elliott
deemed ``not for the tourists" at his Club Passim show here in April,
should attract an all-ages audience that appreciates old-timey Americana and
cowboy tales.
It's
about time the public catches up with what musicians have long known. Elliott
has been a towering influence on a generation of folk and rock musicians, most
notably Bob Dylan, whose first show in New York City was billed as `` Son of
Jack Elliott."
To
his credit, Elliott has never really made a bad album. As a friend once pointed
out, there are no discernible phases of Elliott's career. You can listen to his
1960s recordings on Vanguard and get the same essence from his latter-day
albums.
But
``I Stand Alone" distills Elliott's artistry to its very core (and its very
best). With production about as spare as you can get, usually led by Elliott on
acoustic guitar, the album draws out an emotional intensity that can get lost in
layers of studio sorcery. On ``Call Me a Dog," when Elliott growls, ``Call
me a dog when I'm gone," you best heed his words; otherwise, this is a man
who might track you down and drag you out of the tavern. Nels Cline's hiccuping
dobro caroms off Elliott's vocals like a pinball.
Contemporary
luminaries lend their support here, with Lucinda Williams putting her craggy
warble to work on Ernest Tubb's ``Careless Darlin'. " Red Hot Chili Peppers
bassist Flea contributes on a handful of tracks, the best being ``Driving Nails
in My Coffin," featuring spirited guest vocals from Corin Tucker of the
recently disbanded Sleater-Kinney.
Elliott
has never been much of a songwriter (even by his own account), but with
interpretive skills as masterful as his, he doesn't need to bother. You could,
however, grouse about ``I Stand Alone" not exactly breaking any new ground.
Most of these songs come from the traditional domain (``Willy Moore") or
were written by long-departed folks such as Hoagy Carmichael (``Hong Kong
Blues") and Leadbelly (``Jean Harlow").
Sticking
to what he does best, Elliott sings about his usual subjects, from hound dogs
(``Old Blue"), to trains (A.P. Carter's ``Engine 143"), to the bucolic
pastures of the Wild West (``Leaving Cheyenne"), to old age (``Arthritis
Blues"). The latter, with a stellar accordion solo by David Hidalgo of Los
Lobos, is a good example of how a young Elliott could never have sung this song
so convincingly.
``Woody's
Last Ride," which Elliott wrote, closes this engaging album on a rather
ho-hum note. It's a spoken-word remembrance of the man (that would be Guthrie)
who first inspired Elliott, but it's too obviously aping how Jack White recorded
Loretta Lynn's rambling childhood memories in ``Little Red Shoes" on 2004's
``Van Lear Rose." Elliott's variation here seems unnecessary, and
curiously, it's not a particularly insightful story about the last time he saw
Guthrie.
However,
that's nitpicking with an album that masterfully dusts off the legend of one of
America's musical treasures. Just like Johnny Cash, Elliott is finally getting
the treatment he's deserved all along. Only in this case, Rick Rubin wasn't
needed. This is what Elliott has been doing since day one, except now it's a
perfect fit.