by ChatGPT and Piero Scaruffi)
The Old 97s formed in Dallas in 1993 and debuted with two albums: Hitchhike to Rhome (Big Iron, 1994), featuring the instrumental Ken's Polka Thing, and Wreck Your Life (Bloodshot, 1995), featuring Victoria, marked by a rough-and-ready saloon-style country-rock not heard since the heyday of southern rock. Rhett Millers melancholy stories, somewhat stereotypical in the country genre, are redeemed by the vocal harmonies, Ken Betheas sharp guitarimbued with twang and melodic riffsand the rhythmic brilliance of drummer Philip Peeples, the bands true secret. The groups energy is almost punk, which quickly made their live shows famous.
Too Far To Care (Elektra, 1997) marks the bands arrival at maturity. The rattling Timebomb and the honky-tonk of Barrier Reef display the drive of young generations, armed with existential anger, not whiskey. The album closes with the martial Four Leaf Clover, sung at full throttle with Exene Cervenka, an icon of Californian punk-rock. Yet the album is steeped in nostalgia, as evidenced by period reconstructions like Curtain Calls (blending doo-wop harmonies with Duane Eddy-style twang), Salome (its mournful country lament accompanied by Hawaiian-style slide howls reminiscent of the 1960s), House That Used To Be, and Niteclub, a parody of pop and country.
At the core of the work are the imaginative rhythms laid down by the drums, around which guitar solos weavefrom the bluegrass of W.TX Teardrops to the swing of Just Like California, from the trot of Big Brown Eyes to the gallop of Melt Snow.
Fight Songs (Elektra, 1999) builds on that style but without the same inventiveness and, above all, without the same epic sweep. The over-the-top electricity of Jagged and the cloying catchiness of 19 and Murdera hasty conversion to grunge and popaim more for the charts than the heart of the average American. The honor, though not the album, is saved by some solemn old-school country rides like Lonely Holiday and What We Talk About, and by an atmospheric Chris Isaak-style depression on Alone So Far. Millers genius shines in the bouncing ragtime of Crash On The Barrelhead, simultaneously fatalistic and ironic, and in the classical folk-rock of Busted Afternoon.
Their songs echo countless old Nashville tunes. The originality lies in the execution, in that style halfway between John Wayne and Jello Biafra. It was once called cow-punk, but the Old 97s adapted it for two generations: the Replacements and Uncle Tupelo.
(Original English text by Piero Scaruffi)
Continuing their descent from country-rock to pop,
with Satellite Rides (Elektra, 2001) the Old 97's make a sharp U-turn.
King Of All The World and I Can't Get A Line are power-pop numbers
in the vein of the Smithereens.
The "Tom Petty-ian" wail of
Bird In A Cage, the yodeling and honkytonkin Up The Devil's Pay,
the sprightly, breakneck dance of Am I Too Late
are timid reminders that the Old 97's used to write intrepid songs.
The rest of the album is a chaotic assembly of stereotypes, from romantic
ballads to moody country tales.
Rhett Miller's solo albums, The Instigator (Elektra, 2002) and
The Believer (Verve Forecast, 2006),
completed his transition to adult contemporary pop.
Drag It Up (New West, 2004) is the vehicle for
Won't Be Home No More, Moonlight, Valium Waltz
and little else.
Alive And Wired (2005) is a live album.
Blame It On Gravity (New West, 2008) was the typical "return to form" album that nobody would like to listen to one year later. The truth is that it was merely their stab at pop mainstream with catchy ditties such as No Baby I, driving rockers such as The Fool and serene ballads such as Murry Hammond's Color of a Lonely Heart Is Blue, bordering on Sixties nostalgia in Dance With Me, She Loves the Sunset and especially My Two Feet.
Rhett Miller (Shout, 2009) polished up his touching and melodic ballads,
resulting in
virtually a manual of folk-rock and country-rock, as they were codified in
the 1960s and 1970s.
His
The Dreamer (2011)
The Grand Theatre, Vol. 1 (2010)
and
The Grand Theatre, Vol. 2 (2011),
originally planned as a double album,
matched the band's energy with the leader's passion.
Musically, they are capable of evoking
the mindless Sixties of the Kinks (Every Night Is Friday Night) and of
Neil Diamond (Brown Haired Daughter)
and the next moment of launching in
a frenzied honky-tonk dance (A State of Texas)
or an anthemic country singalong (White Port).
While most of these songs are multiple-time dejavu for anyone who has been
listening to roots-rock of the previous half century, and the band doesn't
even try to shutter stereotypes, the execution is flawless.
