|
Perfect Gentlemen
09/10/1998 7:00 PM, Yahoo! Music Rob O'Connor
What has made Cracker an enduring rock 'n' roll band at a time when alternative bands are as disposable as pantyhose is the simple fact that they draw upon rock's grand history. Guitarist Johnny Hickman quotes Sam & Dave's "Soul Man" with a guitar tone straight off "Little T&A" by the Rolling Stones before setting off on his own implosive solo for "Seven Days," the second track from Cracker's fourth and newest album, Gentleman's Blues. "To me, that's all cool," says singer David Lowery. "That song winds around and becomes a commentary on us."
It's elliptical like that. Studio guests organist Benmont Tench and guitarist Mike Campbell, who have both spent their time as members of Tom Petty's Heartbreakers, were amused by how often Lowery worked Cracker's lifeline into the songs. During "My Life is Totally Boring Without You Around," one of the album's catchiest and most rewarding songs, Lowery spits forth, "We started a band/ owe it all to our fans/ went somewhere near the top." This tickled Lowery's guests. "They were just laughing at how often I sing about being in band," says Lowery. "After 14 years of being in a band and making records, it's become our life. That was one of those songs I wrote in five minutes and I played it to Johnny and asked him, 'Is this stupid?' and he said, 'No, you need something light.' We were listening to the Kinks then, specifically Muswell Hillbillies. That and the Beach Boys."
Lowery's affinity for simple rock music and the relaxed vibe that makes for the best of it is perfectly mirrored in the recording process. The Golden Age, Cracker's last album, was their most elaborate, using numerous overdubs and paying more than the usual amount to the recording process; for Gentleman's Blues, Lowery returned to the quick live sound of Kerosene Hat. The title track is actually a demo.
"When I was first playing it, I wasn't thinking about a blues. I played it on piano," explains Lowery. "It was oddly wordy and Johnny said it sounded like a gentleman singing the blues. That was a demo we did in our studio [in Richmond, Virginia]. We played it at Bearsville [studio in upstate New York where most of the album was recorded] to Charlie Drayton and he was like, 'Why would you fuck with that? I wouldn't touch it.' So we left it that way."
The album is clearly a tour de force. From the opening pop strains of "The Good Life," which features Campbell, Tench and ex-Replacements bassist Tommy Stinson, to the dark undertones of "James River" to the bizarre, clown-out-of-whack rhythm of " I Want Out Of The Circus," Cracker show no signs of losing their inspiration. If anything, Lowery trusts his devout audience will follow, even as others misunderstand the signs.
"'I Hate My Generation' is actually a more positive song than 'The Good Life,'" says Lowery. "It's just the titles. After reading the reviews, I began to wonder why our audience seemed to understand and the reviewers were missing the point. I figure if I have something darker or more cynical to say I should a positive title on it. 'The Good Life' is about somebody who gets everything they ever wanted and then they're not happy."
Lowery deals with a similar idea in "I Want Out Of The Circus." "It's an Eastern European waltz," he explains. "I've been kinda amused in the past five or six years, we've had a whole bunch of rock stars who spent a lot of time complaining about their fame. I'm not real sympathetic to this viewpoint, but you go out on tour for six months and it's a sentiment I can understand."
For "James River," Lowery braved the chance that he might be further misunderstood, since while the James River is a major waterway in Virginia, it's also the name of a Virginia corporation whose name you see in toilet stalls the world over. "Adam Duritz [of Counting Crows] said people were going to relate that to dispensers in bathrooms. But the story is this woman from the south side, the white trash area, comes across--it's set years ago. I was reading Cormac McCarthy at the time."
And there's the rub, my friend. Cracker manage to keep their soul intact while messing with your mind. Lowery has obvious discomfort as to why this should be so unusual. It comes natural enough to him.
"I don't think it's weird. It's been good for us. There's always been this strain of intellectual to rock 'n' roll and I don't know if I'm an intellectual--I read a lot," he says. The fruits of this penchant for using one's brains cells instead of killing them is simple. "A lot of bands have hits but they're no one's favorite band. We operate as a cult band, but it's very obvious that we're some people's favorite band and our audience has been incredibly loyal and I know this [intellectual capability] has to do with it. We have more fans with Cracker [than with Lowery's old band, Camper Van Beethoven] because I think we're less weird and we have no interest in being weird. We're not afraid to be a bit more straight-up."
This refusal to give into the pop world's addiction to quick fixes has led Lowery away from listening to today's music. "I've been in a phase for a year-and-a-half where I don't listen to newer bands because I got tired of bands with only three good songs." Instead, he's been listening to old faves and discovering music from genres of years bygone: doo-wop, delta blues, '70s hard rock.
As to what might influence Cracker, Lowery says his side job as a record producer puts him in touch with musicians who can make the needed connection. From Counting Crows to Sparklehorse to Joan Osborne, Lowery has been adding his own touch to others' music. "It's all fun to me," he says. "almost as fun as doing your own music."
|