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.