Flanfire

Cactus Flowers!

Jenny Reynolds is a friend of mine -- she even got me a Red Sox cap on one of her trips back home to Boston. She is also a woman of quality -- and her music shows it. Jenny just released her brand-new CD "Next to You" with a show at the Cactus Cafe -- backed by a hot band whose members included her co-producers Scrappy Jud Newcomb and Mark Addison (on guitar and keyboards, respectively), bassist Lindsay Greene, and percussionists/drummers (they switched off all night long) Luke Ayres and Rob Hooper.

Sadly, I had to miss the second CD release at the Cactus that same evening, but I did stick around long enough to meet the wonderful Carrie Elkin and say hello to Dustin Welch and Colin Brooks who were part of HER band for the evening (along with the aforementioned Mark Addison, who racked up producer credits along with Brooks and Amy Burchette on this one). And then I listened to the music -- and wondered where had I been all these months? But of course Carrie tours all over America and is here just once in a while (cheesy excuse!).

Jenny Reynolds: Next to You

But to the music, Jenny first! Now everyone in her Cactus band played on the record, but so did Warren Hood and Ian McLagan and Glenn Fukanaga, and Ruthie Foster added vocals. So Jenny has to be very happy -- and yet anyone who knows her songs realizes the pathos she finds as she views the world through not so rose-colored glasses. The sultry tones that open the title cut warn us to be ready for some tough words. Here Jenny sings of being "not the marrying kind," and yet there is an alternative: "I feel like I do, I wanna be next to you."

Next up, our singer explains that there "Ain't No Reason" not to love me, while "Belong to Heaven" asks what are we to make of those who falter in life. "If we all belong to heaven, which of us is then to blame" when things do not work out according to the fairy tale? Not her job, Jenny acknowledges -- hers is just to sing the song. This is strong music, enhanced by great players who have embraced Jenny (who is always just thrilled to have a band).

"I Forget Myself" features Scrappy on acoustic guitar -- as he interprets the lyrics, "Wish I was someone else, I forget myself trying to remember you." Jenny next interprets Scrappy's own mystical "Night of the Arrival," which is followed by "Exhale," with Scrappy on 12-string guitar. This song is perhaps the highlight of the whole record -- but how sad that her first heroine "never felt the glory of the sound of the wind blowing through the leaves ... All that breathing in, don't you want to let it out somehow?" The good news of course is that Jenny herself has come through dark nights and learned to "let it out" -- and to live and love again. Great piano, Mark.

Things lighten up a little as Jenny sings of a "One Red Light Town," getting out of the city (Yea!). Warren's fiddle here helps make us all want to get back to that simpler life. [And yet it is clearly not Jenny's own town.] "Never Let Him Go" is a sad tale about the guy who left the girl (and her baby) behind after he "stole her love in a brand new Ford" -- again, Warren Hood conveys the sadness inherent in the fact that "he's gone but she'll never let him go" (even though he still thinks of her -- both of them are stuck 15 years back in time).

The live version of the Lennon-McCartney "I'm Looking Through You" is even better than the one on the record -- jazzy as all get-out, slowed down and darker -- a whole new take on this classic. Peanut plays piano here, but the guitar is all Jenny. Finally, in "A Simple Man," Jenny asks "would you take him down just because you can?" Another small-town vignette -- more evidence that this big-city woman yearns for a gentler time, a world that makes more sense. And that's what we like about this beautiful spirit -- the amazing gentleness that betrays the sometimes angry exterior. Which is why the final number, "Whiskey & Pie," makes so much sense -- it's a real HOOT kind of ditty that you gotta dance to. Rural party music. Just so we will know that the morose reflections earlier are not the sumtotal of this awesome woman (who reminds me ever so much of my long-departed daughter Susan).

Carrie Elkin: The Jeopardy of Circumstance

How many artists are able even to write a review of their own music? Carrie Elkin while in England earlier this year did just that -- gave us the lowdown on every song on this wonderful recording that benefits greatly from the beautiful work of Colin Brooks and Mark Addison.

"Why would I want to go to heaven, the people here don't think much of me now." That's the opening lines from "Obadiah," which Carrie says is about the struggle with spirituality and how it takes its toll in every aspect of life. This is a very quiet song -- you have to hush your own soul in order to really listen. Which is a good idea anyway. "Roots & Wings" comes from the Ohio soil where Carrie grew up -- Iris Dement would love to sing this one. Carrie has her roots, and also her wings -- she's a traveling musician, after all. But centered and not scattered.

"Did She Do Her Best" Carrie admits is about leaving someone much loved -- this could be a John Prine song (or maybe Tom Waits). One of my favorites is her "Ode to Ogallala," the Nebraska town where she got stuck two weeks after her VW engine blew up [I had a similar experience in Mountain View, Arkansas, many years ago!]. Carrie admits she spent the time working on a cattle ranch and flirting with the cowboys (well, one, anyway).

Another is "Questions about Angels," which Carrie notes asks why people even bother to pretend to seek God when their lives are so full of greed and envy. Do they even hear the words or have any idea of who it is they are mocking? "He sang on Sunday, sacrificed his words to get to you, But sacrifice ain't no good till you give God His due." [This could be a Raina Rose song, it is so gentle -- kinda like the kid who pointed out the emperor had no clothes on.]

"Year Before the War" Carrie says is about her grandpa (still alive and kicking at age 97, a photographer who has lost his eyesight). Much of the song is fiction (of course), but the story makes me think about my own mother who at age 96 is frustrated that she cannot manage all her own affairs any more -- and yet thrilled when her long life of accomplishment is remembered (for example by three of her former students who took her out to lunch this week).

"Shell of a Man" opens with a gospel style a capella chorus, then features Dustin Welch's banjo. Brennen Leigh could sing this tall tale about a man who thought he was gonna die -- but wasn't. "Broke TV" (ah, what a joy!) Carrie says is her "pop song" -- happy on the outside (the music), but "depressing as hell" down deep (in the lyrics). Great melodica solo by Mark Addison (who had a couple of those at the Jenny Reynolds party as well). More harmony vocals! You just might tap your toes to this one.

"Black Lung," though, is by no means toe-tapping -- a true story about Carrie's coal miner grandpa (not the photographer) who died when she was nine years old. Okay, the rest of the song is all fiction -- except for the sadness of losing a loved one way too early. Patty Griffin might want to cover this one. So hauntingly beautiful -- beyond poignant. The record closes with Carrie's "Gospel Song," featuring Dustin's banjo and lots more music. Carrie's own gospel is about the search for "what's real in this life ... in all the noise and lights" -- and about walking together in harmony and joy.

Just ten songs -- music you want everybody to sing. Which is why the HINTS for other artists. Carrie looks like pure fun just from the clothes she is "modeling" on her myspace page. The kind of person you might eat peas and cornbread with, maybe some corn on the cob and in the bottle. Go square dancing with (or just dancing at the Spoke!). Lie on the grass and look up at the clouds with -- or watch the stars when the sun goes down. A woman connected to earth and sky.

Flanfire -- Bringing LIFE to Austin music.

Guitar Goddesses: Carolyn and Meagan

Carolyn Wonderland

Now Carolyn was already a local legend in her native Houston long before I finally met her (and drummer Eldridge Goins) one afternoon in Austin at Antone's. My daughter, nearly a decade ago, wrote a report that referenced an essay about the blues in Houston, which even then would not have been complete without major mention of the part-Chilean redhead with the big voice and the ever-widening coterie of musical instruments around her. I would learn quickly that Carolyn never fails to honor her teachers/heroes -- guys like Lil' Screaming Kenny (Blachet) or the late, great Jerry Lightfoot. Also that she never forgets a friend, or more importantly, to BE a friend -- even as her star rises almost in spite of her own (yes) demurity and yet strength not to allow herself or her music to be compromised. [No wonder my daughter Melody loves her!]

Today it is hard to find any of Carolyn's early recordings -- those before she moved to Austin, before "Alcohol & Salvation" (produced by Eldridge Goins) and "Bloodless Revolution" (produced by Stephen Doster). One day, we suspect, those early efforts may be as priceless as bootleg Jimi Hendrix -- but I digress.

The NEW music -- aptly titled "Miss Understood" -- is the result of a collaboration among producer Ray Benson, the great Lloyd Maines (one major reason we have two Terri Hendrix songs here), the horn and strings arrangements of John Mills, and great playing from keyboardist Cole El-Saleh, bassist Glenn Fukunaga, drummer Jamie Oldaker, and Carolyn herself -- with additional contributions by Wheel-ites Dave Sanger and Jason Roberts, award-winning backing vocalist Wes Hightower, Texas musician of the year Shelley King, Austin gospel singer Tim Curry (whose Benson link includes "A Ride with Bob"), Guy Forsyth, Barry "Frosty" Smith, Jon Blondell, the Tosca String Quartet, and the amazing Cindy Cashdollar.

"Misunderstood" - the near-title track - is a straight-on blues gospel song about dying (I ain't got long for this world) -- Carolyn plays lap steel. Gotta be lots of airplay for this one. "I Found the Lions" (Hendrix-Maines, from "The Ring") is bluesier than ever as Carolyn wails, while "Throw My Love" (from "Places in Between") is tougher than ever with King and Curry supporting Carolyn's vocal energy. Did Bruce Robison write "Bad Girl Blues" just for Carolyn? He's too young to have had Janis in mind. Of course, Carolyn has her OWN song about being thought of as a "bad girl" (and she was kicked out of high school for organizing a protest) -- but that just shows us again how upside down our official society can be. A great song, sung well.

Carolyn told me that she and Ray actually got 20 songs in the can and had to pare down to an even dozen that fit together well -- "It was hard to see your own songs on the cutting floor," she admitted. Two other covers that did survive are long-time Carolyn favorites -- J.J. Cale's "Trouble in the City," which is naturally dirty, low-down, smelly -- like Houston, and Rick Derringer's "Still Alive and Well," which just flat ROCKS! Ray collaborated with Carolyn on two songs -- "Walk On," which features Carolyn on trumpet (plus an amazing guitar solo) and Guy on harmonica, and "Long Way to Go," which features Jason Roberts on fiddle. Both of these are strong spiritual songs that encourage us -- "Walk through the fire, walk through the storm, walk when it's freezing, walk when it's warm" -- "As I walk through this life I am never alone."

But I would wager that Ray had the MOST fun playing jazz guitar on "I Don't Want to Fall for You," an Eldridge-Carolyn collaboration that first appeared (with Carolyn scat singing) on "Alcohol & Salvation." THIS is just one example of why I can hardly wait (though I may have to) for "The Songs of Eldridge Goins" (and if HE won't sing them, I know a dozen jazz singers in Austin who would line up to sing them for him). The powerful closing song, "Feed Me to the Lions," is also a remake from "Alcohol" -- but with the Tosca String Quartet capturing the pathos of a woman to whom "no one talks to in the checkout line." Carolyn's piano on both versions is a rare treat.

What's left? Well, "The Farmer Song," which Carolyn was given in a dream -- and on which she plays the beautiful mandolin crafted especially for her. And one of my favorites -- "I Live Alone with Someone," another melancholy blues song that blew me away last week at the Saxon Pub. I have seen Carolyn with a wide variety of sidemen and as guest vocalist with Jerry Lightfoot (who also let her play some gee-tar) -- but never have I enjoyed her sets more than with the trio that includes El-Saleh and drummer Michael "Lefty" Lefkowitz (who apparently has a hot new band called -- LiverDog. After all, Carolyn provides the variety as she switches from one instrument to another, from one genre to another, and yet all the time with the same love for her audience and irreverence toward herself that is her trademark.

Meagan Tubb (& Shady People)

Want to hear something sad but typically Austin? I actually had to leave Carolyn's amazing set at the Saxon to get over to Ruta Maya for Meagan's CD release party. And yet it was well worth the sacrifice to catch the energy from this University of Missouri (journalism) graduate who escaped from California (where she went after graduation) to find a new home and family here in the Live Music Capital (along with a win at Poodie's battle of the bands that got her studio time at Pedernales and gigs with Willie). Some of you may also know Meagan from her role as a calendar "model," but until you get before her amplifiers, you might not realize that this lanky lovely can flat play rock and roll and the blues. But so can bandmate Jason Nunnenkamp (guitar, banjo), drummer Johnny Duran, and new bassist Wilson Carr.

Meagan opened her show on acoustic guitar but switched to electric when Jason picked banjo on "Yes I Do," and the race was on. Duran seems always smiling on stage (and why not?), and he and Carr (taking nothing away from former bassist Ric Ricker) make a solid rhythm section. For the record, the band brought in keyboardist Anthony Farrell of The Greyhounds. And I missed that sound on at least a couple of the songs (notably the amazing jam, "Argument with the Moon," which on the CD is over 7 minutes of pure joy. Meagan also introduced a bevy of brand-new songs, many of which will likely be on her followup recording -- songs like "Rapture" and "Flying" (which is about two angels).

The record, though, is pure smoke and sweat -- you oughta be worn out from dancing by the time the set is half finished. Meagan's vocals provide the sweat -- the twin lead guitars the smoke -- and the fire and brimstone too. Many of these songs are hot passion, while on others Meagan is pleading with God to make her clean (or crying out to Eve for "Take(ing) the First Bite"). "Invocation" lets the guy know he is already down two strikes but maybe still has the magic to keep her around. "Let Me Believe" is a second plea for that guy to let her "soak in your melody and melt with you in the rain."

"Lost and Found" tells of a journey to California and finding that "there's too many people who have run away from the old lives that they've known -- some away from their families, some away from love, some away from themselves, and the good Lord up above." The solution, in "Sunny Place for Shady People," would be to "head 'em up and move 'em out" from a life of "sharing stories and cheap beverages" and working in the city slum "in front of a machine."

"Beautiful Noise" (those twin leads fire us up!) is a prayer to "search for sweet transcendance which once again will find me in a state of dependence," and to "Baptize me so lovingly once I learn to forgive and I'll have known that you have shown what it means to truly live." But "Isabella" is a sad tale of a woman who is "barren at her core," whose true person "she hides behind closed doors." How many of us can see that image in ourselves, when we have failed to forgive, to love, to take those risks that can lead to new thresholds of human contact?

"Rock and a Hard Place" is the bitter dregs of a life with everything of value "burned to the ground," and of being "grateful" for "the friends I thought I had" who "left me stranded and alone when I was sad." How to escape this mess? A good first step is to grit the teeth and proclaim that they're "Not Going to Get Me Today," even when "sitting in a traffic jam like a whale beached in the sand," or when the loan sharks call looking for their money. It gets worse -- imagine a "Bumblebee" laughing about biting you on the hand or a king snake smiling about nibbling at your toe and biting you on the leg -- but only because instead of just admiring their beauty as they came by "to groove you," you lashed out at them. [I can hope for a slowed-down version of this song -- which just seems to fly by too quickly for the message to get through.]

Where to go? "Let Me Be with You" recognizes that "God has a way of letting you know when you've gone astray," and pulling you "back in to try again for a better day." The great news is that, "Make no mistake, you haven't cut your bridge with him," and that "God leaves a trail to let you know where you're supposed to go," if we will just stop trying to "push him away and out of mind" so as to "man your own ship through the sands of time." This is an anthem -- and the band frames the lyrics to maximize their impact. The way it's s'pozed to be.

Mary, Mary -- and Bill Davis, Too!