Flanfire

Two Dads Who Rock!

Nathan Hamilton's Six Black Birds
Once upon a time Nathan Hamilton was winning folksinger awards at Kerrville (back in his Tuscola days). But deep down lay the soul of a rocker, as his band No Deal would prove over and over again (check out live at Floore's Country Store). With the release of "Six Black Birds," fans finally have the rock and roll record they have dreamed of. Thanks also to Whip In's Dipak Topiwala, executive producer extraordinaire, and to Sarah Bork Hamilton for her great eye.

Much as one likes his bluecountry "Texas Sapphires," and not forgetting his punkrock daze, Billy Brent Malkus is first of all an ABSOLUTE MUTHA of a rock'n'roll guitar player. Chepo Pena (who played with fellow Sapphire Rebecca Lucille Cannon in Sincola and also with David Garza) handles the bass, and Adam Tyner (Rockland Eagles) is on drums. Producers Darwin Smith and Erik Wofford add their magical touches, but the real extra energy here is provided by five-time rocker dad Matthew Mollica on the Hammond B3, farfiza and piano. You just gotta see these guys LIVE to get the full treatment!

Musically, this record R - O - C - K - S! But lyrically, Hamilton may have reached deeper into his own soul than ever before. Texas Music Magazine once said that, "Hamilton specializes in lyrics that expose the raw emotions and feelings of characters and the situations people find themselves in."

Here, though, the raw emotions and feelings are his own -- and nowhere are the rough edges more sharply drawn than in the album's final (and only acoustic) cut, "Hanging On" -- "I fixed the hinge, stopped the squeak that kept me from a dead man's sleep, I kicked my shoe across the room to watch it fly and startle you, I saw a smile that you tried to hide, And the tension broke for just awhile."

Indeed, this entire collection of songs is largely about the rocky road of love that leaves us scared and broken and fearful and yet hopeful that somehow we can go on together despite all the terrible stuff we have said and even done -- that the faithfulness counts for something, that it can still be "you and me still hanging on." It's also about learning first why and then how we must love even our enemies else we can let our hatred consume everything we do love. [Remember, though, the artist's license to mix the real with that made up to get his point across, and do not read too much into things, puh-leeze!]

"The Cut," for example, is a dirge that speaks of loss, first of temper, then of hope, then of love -- and it all begins because "I don't mean to be so angry, Truth be told I am just scared, Lashing out at anybody, That has the bad luck of being there." But there is also cleansing -- "And the envy in me, I have lain open the cut, Sucked the poison with my mouth, Turned my head with both eyes shut,,,," Musically, the darkness here is amplified by Mollica's mournful B3 (and which reminds of me his work with Black Water Gospel).

Indeed, Hamilton's admits in "Sooner or Later" we all hit the wall -- a song with a James McMurtry feel until the angry power of Malkus's guitar blows you into the next county. Similarly, in "Teeth," Hamilton insists that, "Even the sweetest of saints show their teeth sometimes" when confronted with those who "wll cram your nose with cocaine and pack your head with lifes .... cover you with roses and fill your cup with wine," but "while they're offering you riches, they'll be stealing your ass blind." But does this "explanation" really work at home?

The anger really soars in "Burn," which begins with a call to torch today's corrupted and perverse society because it's "time to show them we don't care and set it all aflame." And yet later he turns to a more personal matter, a desire to give a bruised love a new chance: "Come on, grab the match with me, Strike it once and we will see, A burning light for you and me, That leaves us fertile ground."

Things get even more tenuous in "Now Again," which starts off almost prayerfully, "Can't you see I'm offering More than a lover, more than a friend, You don't have to be afraid to let somebody in." But as the song progresses, the confession is that, "Memories are luxuries imprisoned in my mind, The sweet sad scent of your sacred skin is all you left behind," and the guitar gets a lot rougher.

Nathan strives against those who will "trade flesh for gold to pay for their sin" in "Enough," reminding them (and himself) that "God sees the heart of a man, but the heart is the one thing you don't understand." "Green and Gold" is a beautifully constructed lament about childhood chums, one of whom chose to "chew the fattest plum" and then "left the skin and seed here for me when you were done." But so what -- "that's how it goes, sometimes, that's how it goes." And you know it is HARD to let it go.

The title cut, "Six Black Birds," is harsh and forceful, with some serious squealing guitar that sets the tone. Yet the storyteller admits, "I am frightened, I am frayed, All I want is to escape this world's pain and hatred too." Of the song's first six black birds, three are for faith, one for truth, one for fear, and one for "you." Later, Hamilton swaps out "fear" for "hope" -- a sign that the tide is turning this fight against anger.

But the crowning achievement of this song collection is the gorgeous "Frame to Finish," one of the most beautiful love songs from anyone in quite a while, and yet one that includes a plea to "walk on and leave these broken things behind, Strewn and scattered here for someone else to find." In the beginning, "I took the hand of a stranger and I looked into her face, It was flush with fear and the slightest touch of grace."

The carpenter in Hamilton had earlier promised, "From frame to finish I'll see you through, From the tempest and the torrent rain I'll shelter you," to the "stranger" whose face at first meeting was "flush with fear and the slightest touch of grace." But the bargain was that "You might just find that I'd reach to touch your pain, On the chance that you might reach for me and do the same."

Finally taking hold of the anger and contempt for the fallen world around him, Hamilton remembers his true self and the promise that love and truth (and faith and hope) will be his guide from now on: "I've never been the kind of man whose worth was in his wealth, I have always taken comfort somewhere else, That don't mean I won't provide a special place for you, Made with my two hands and built on love and truth.... " And with that said, you know the man about whom Hamilton is writing these songs will no longer be just "Holding On."

Matt the Electrician Gets "One Thing Right"

These guys sing together on Sundays at Opal Divine's, but their stories are so very different. Matt the Electrician is a softer troubadour, and this record gets you singing along and dancing in your spirit. Produced by Matt (Sever), Jud Newcomb, and the polished maestro Mark Addison (who also engineered and mixed), this fifth offering by the guy who in fact for many years plied his trade by day and raised his children (helping his wife) by night when he was not playing out.

Helping out on this collection are Tom Pearson on bass, Jon Greene on drums and percussion (including bells), Seela on vocals, Sick on violin, Addison on piano, organ, and xylophone (and noise), and Newcomb on guitars, bouzouki and mandolin -- meanwhile Matt plays guiatr, banjotar, trumpetes, euphonium, and xylophone (too) -- and probably others he forgot about.

Songs include "Happy Ending," "One Thing Right," "The Kids," "My Dog," and "Last Poem for My Girl" -- and six other songs by Matt plus "Left Coast," written by Phil Weinrobe. I really like "On the Radar," which features trumpets together, "I'm not all alone, I'm not far from home heading somewhere... I am on the radar, Get me out of here."

"Change the Subject" is a comic love song, "If we can change the subject, then we can change the game," and who wants to talk politics and religion and get drunk anyway. Of course, we do have kids - and so it is great to be "swinging on the swings" even if quitting smoking will take a while. "We are plowshares," he concludes, and that is very very good. And "Money" too has some simple truths of great importance stuck in the middle of the smiles.

"Something in the Stars Translated" feels like Forties music -- on the beach or just lolling around, reminiscing that "no one else understands why you want to date the boy in the band." But how sweet it is! And Sick's violin puts on the exclamation point! "In the Waves" gets us to the ocean where our hero wants to "drown in the waves." "Freedom's not what somebody says" -- there's that little nugget again!

How wonderful, though, is "Last Poem for My Girl," which tells of two people who are "In the heart of darkness mining for the light, Building fires that will swallow the night." What peace this record brings to the weary soul. I could write more, but why not just let you listen?

Flanfire -- Bringing LIFE to Austin music.