Most people drink corn whisky for one of two reasons; to forget their troubles or to start some new ones. But there’s a third path, a fine line, where the bourbon serves to focus an artistic endeavor and provide the fuel for an emotional fire. Hans Chew’s debut album, Tennessee & Other Stories, seems to have been borne along that cliff-hugging path. It’s a record that evokes the dark romanticism of life in the rural south, but fortunately stays close enough to the surface to be enjoyable more than simply brooding.
The record starts with the Tennessee trilogy, a group of songs implied to be part of a single story, although I missed the common thread. Having said that, Old Monteagle & Muscadine is a story unto itself about life alone, “they found her body on Christmas Day, they say the tear was froze that way”. It’s perhaps the best showcase for Chew’s vocals, a kind of Billy-Joel-meets-Steve-Earle melancholy growl that quickly sets a mood. As well, Magnet Man displays Chew’s vocals on a kind of Tom Waits-like number featuring some good dance hall piano licks.
Outside the Tennessee trilogy, the rest of this record is really held together with Chew’s keyboard styling. On one end of the bookshelf is the hard-driving boogie-woogie of New Cypress Grove Boogie. Once Hans gets going it has the relentless energy of Jerry Lee Lewis or Little Richard. Similarly, Forever Again is a ditty with some of life’s little observations, like “we’re all going to die once in our lives.” In the middle could be Queen of the Damned Blues, as sort of alt-country waltz, and Long Time Man, a twist on Poe’s Tell-Tale Heart. At the other end is Only Son, featuring what sounds like an old upright piano rescued from the 3rd Street Baptist Church in Springfield. With it’s hymnal feel corrupted by a salacious saxophone part, it’s a fitting end to the album.
Tennessee & Other Stories uses Chew’s piano talents to layer a finger-snapping, fun-at-the-roadhouse facade that’s easy to enjoy. But the listener is rewarded when you pull back that top layer and dig into the life so frequently bypassed by the tourists on their way to more famous destinations.
About the author: I've actually driven from Tehatchapee to Tonopah. And I've seen Dallas from a DC-9 at night.