Bulletproof Man, The Bluest Sky (from the self-released The Bluest Sky)
Chuck Melchin first appeared on our radar a number of years ago as the Bean Picker’s Union. Essentially a solo artist surrounding himself with a loose collective of acoustic players, he wrote songs that oozed melancholy and were tied to quiet and captivating melodies.
But sometimes you just want to plug in an electric guitar and have a rhythm section lay down a groove. Such was the case with Melchin, who invited some friends to join him in a new group called The Bluest Sky. The result is an album that sounds like The Band meets Wilco, maybe with a little Steve Forbert thrown in for good measure.
Several songs deal with the exasperating side of relationships. “Amy Jean” finds him pining for a lover who is proving elusive:
Left me hanging with my engine running hot
Left me looking like a fool
Got to find her, got to put her on the spot
But she’s so good at playing cool
He’s still on the romantic back foot in the rollicking “Bulletproof Man”. A honky-tonk piano jumps in alongside the electric guitar as Melchin proclaims “you were playing me like strings on a puppet man, left me begging at your feet just because you can”.
Life in fading small towns is another recurring theme, most notably on “Drive Through Confessional” and “New Berlin”. The latter hearkens somewhat back to the Bean Picker’s Union era, albeit with some electric guitar added for texture. “Town has gone to shit, it’s filled with meth and heroin,” he sings about the failing farm town the song describes, “they should burn it down and start it all again.”
The Bluest Sky is a fine testament to Melchin’s talent and ability to craft memorable songs, whether the guitar is acoustic or electric.
I Just Want to Know You, Dan Blakeslee (from the self-released Road Hymns)
Field recordings have a storied place in the history of folk music. So it’s perhaps no surprise that Maine-based folk singer Dan Blakeslee – a visual and musical artist known for following his muse wherever it takes him – has embraced the tradition with his latest project. Road Hymns is an album of field recordings captured in diverse surroundings, the locations as meaningful as the songs. From the Davis Square subway station in Somerville, MA to the cabin of his father’s sailboat to Goddard Chapel at Tufts University (my alma mater, no less), they each represent a part of Blakeslee’s artistic journey.
If you’ve ever met Blakeslee, you know that one of his hallmarks is an infectious enthusiasm. The spirit shines brightly across Road Hymns, a collection of songs that preach optimism amid the darkness that can often be found in the world today. “People of Peace”, with birds chirping in the background, is chief among them. “Here is a song for everyone. Let’s all just live no more fists be thrown,” he implores, “we are all children of this world, So pass the bread and drop the stone.”
“Dearest Annie” Is both a pandemic song and a letter to a long lost love, sparked by an old love letter that Blakeslee found during the early days of the pandemic. In the song, Blakeslee rediscovers joy in those memories as well as other human interactions that, during those pandemic days, had been lost.
“Roadside Angel”, although written back in 2015, harbors similar pandemic significance. “Been cooped up for too long so I took off in my car,” he sings at the beginning of the song before finding a silver lining in the chorus, “But I’ve got my roadside angel comin’ through; she’s keeping back the clouds bringin‘ the skies of blue.”
That sentiment is also reflected in the title track, as Blakeslee declares, “I may be wandering the lonely streets. Guided by the angel riding next to me. And my road hymns.” Always the optimist, and exactly what we need in these fractured times.
Changes, Hayley Reardon (with Judit Neddermann from the self-released Changes)
Boston-area singer-songwriter Hayley Reardon travelled to Barcelona to record her latest EP. There she worked with local artists, including producer-guitarist Pau Figueres. The songs that resulted beautifully reflect on navigating the complexities of life, romantic and otherwise.
“What happens when the battlefield engulfs the battle, when the land for which we war burns us alive, she asks in “Birds Like Little Soliders” before adding “call it what you will, the end or just some cosmic shadow.”
“Bleed Together” is a reflection on a lost love, filled with both regret and the hope that the loss is somehow shared. She wryly kicks off the song saying, “I keep telling myself to put it all in a song, it’s a lot cleaner than calling.”
The title track, co-written and co-sung with Catalan artist Judit Neddermann, is simultaneously uplifting and melancholy. The two sing about pushing forward, regardless or perhaps in spite of the discomfort of past and present:
I’m learning you don’t get to be nowhere
Just because you’re in between
You still gotta wake up, make peace with the
ghost you’re gonna leave
“When you’re still without a way to explain it, finally the footing calls for some changes” the sing on the chorus. It’s an apt description for Reardon’s musical journey – always pushing forward.
Why Don’t You Love Me, Ward Hayden and the Outliers (from the Faster Horse Recordings release A Celebration of Hank Williams Live)
It’s no secret that Ward Hayden is a massive fan of Hank Williams (to the point of writing about him for us several years ago), so who better than to celebrate what would have been the country legend’s 100th birthday.
For years now, Hayden and the Outliers have honored Williams’ passing on New Years Day 1953 with special New Year’s Eve tribute shows. This past year was no exception. All the better – they recorded the shows and released the resulting live album in September to celebrate what would have been Williams’ 100th birthday.
Given Hayden’s intense knowledge of Williams and his music, it’s no surprise that the album bypasses several of the revered singer-songwriter’s most famous songs. Instead, Hayden and the Outliers present a survey of Williams impressive catalog, bringing them to life with tremendous reverence and authenticity. No doubt Hank would been proud.
What Is Not to Love About a Flower, Jeremy Moses Curtis (from the Blueblade Records release Midlife Chrysler)
Jeremy Moses Curtis is most known for his years working with other artists as a bass player – most notably Booker T. Jones, Jeffrey Foucault, and Chris Smither, not to mention the countless others that he’s performed with over the years. During this time Curtis quietly amassed a collection of his own songs, now released as Midlife Chrysler.
The title wonderfully captures two themes of the album – a musician’s reflection on a life spent on the road and a broader wizened perspective on life, both his own and the world in which he lives. The opening “Good to See You” is a great example of the former, the tale of a middle-aged musician meeting someone from a younger generation who vaguely recognizes him from a gig the previous night. “Are you working or are you playing or are you just running away,” the musician gets asked, to which he responds, “I’ve done more than my fair share of all the above.”
The restrained and somewhat ethereal “Layover” is another example. The song perfectly captures the feeling of loneliness and tedium that one can find spending excessive time in an airport. A Mark Knopfler-style guitar solo adds to the song’s barrenness.
His weariness with life and the world come to the forefront on songs like “Census” and “Spinning Tires”. The former is a damning indictment of politics and the lack of humanity increasingly prevalent these days. “I’m tired of trying to be seen in your eyes like another human being,” he exclaims. He gets more reflective on “Spinning Tires”:
Some days are like a sentence
Some days are like a gift
Every day we take our chances
Measure the fall and hope for a lift
Musically, the half-spoken vocals and brooding, textured arrangements of Midlife Chrysler call to mind Robbie Robertson’s debut. Yet one can’t escape the very personal nature of the album’s music and lyrics. It’s clear that Midlife Chrysler was an album that Curtis was compelled to make.
Bad Situation, Barrence Whitfield & the Savages (from the FOLC Records release Glory)
Barrence Whitfield and the Savages are maximum R&B, pure and simple. They are about to celebrate their 40th anniversary, a career over which they have celebrated a sound that pre-dates the band by 20 or so years. Think the grittier side of the Stax or Atlantic soul catalogs of that by-gone era. In the case of Whitfield and the Savages, however, it is fueled by brawny electric guitar and saxaphone as much as it is anchored by an unrelenting rhythm section. Then there is Whitfield’s have sung, half shouted vocals. This is dance party music, Mississippi roadhouse style.
If you’re looking for a ballad, you ain’t gonna find any here. And that’s just fine, over 12 tracks – most under 3 minutes in length – the group throw down some incredible R&B goodness.
The Art of Feeling Blue, Bob Bradshaw (from the self-released The Art of Feeling Blue)
Bradshaw is one of Boston’s best kept secrets. It’s both a blessing and a curse: a curse in that his music deserves a wider audience but a blessing in that he is able to create music on his own terms. The title track is a prime example of what happens when he does – when he sings, “I’m an expert in the art of feeling blue” in the album’s track, the song resonates with a magical authenticity.
Some of the album’s finer moments recall Big Star’s more thoughtful and brooding songs. “Waiting” tells the tale of someone on the wrong side of a one-sided love affair. “I know you like to keep me hanging on, you string me along, you come and go like a whisper on the wind,” Bradshaw sings.
“Hot in the Kitchen” and “Thought I Had a Problem” are a pair of catchy upbeat rockers while “Everybody’s Smalltime Now” and “Let Sleeping Gods Lie” both crackle with a sinister vibe. “Rosa”, the tale of a migrant crossing the Mexican border, borrows some of the Arizona desert vibe of Calexico, not to mention their trumpeter (Jacob Valenzuela).
Ten albums into his career, Bradshaw shows no signs of slowing down – or losing his touch. Here’s to more great music to come.
For What Reason, The Quahogs (from the self-released Tasteless)
You’ll hear strong echoes of Deer Tick in the latest from The Quahogs. It’s shouldn’t be much of a surprise – the groups share strong roots and ties to Providence, Rhode Island. More importantly, though, they are both committed to rock and roll in all its ragged glory.
From the shaggy “For What Reason” to the Nirvana grunge flair of “Miriam” to the country-rock vibe of “Where I’m Standing”, The Quahogs demonstrate a knack for catchy melodies that are ripe for sing alongs. The music is ramshackle and freewheeling in the best possible way, yet a close listen reveals the band’s musicianship. Electric guitars weave around one another as a piano often sashays in the background, a taut rhythm section propelling the songs forward. If you’re looking for some fun and authentic rock and roll, look no further than The Quahogs.
Keep Me in the Dark, Phil Aiken (from the self-released Here Goes Nothing)
Known primarily for his work performing with other artists, keyboardist Phil Aiken periodically surprises by releasing music of his own. In this case, it’s via the power pop glory of Here Goes Nothing, his first album in seven years.
The title track kicks off the album in grand fashion, the staccato of Aiken’s electric piano quickly joined by the band to create a song filled with melodic urgency. He later enters yacht rock territory with the laid back “Love Shy”, his electric piano complimented by some spacey synthesizer.
The album’s finer moments – notably “Lesser Lights” and “Keep Me in the Dark” – hearken to the classic power pop of the 1970’s with their melodic elegance. “The chip on my shoulder is getting older and older,” he sings on the former while the latter finds him pursuing a path of avoidance:
Let me think my cup is overflowing
I don’t want to know that my luck’s run out
I don’t want to hear the whispers growing
I’ll feel the shadow of a doubt
To borrow the title of Aiken’s 2006 release (It’s Always the Quiet Ones), it’s often the quiet ones who surprise with the depth of their talent – a point well taken with Here Goes Nothing.
Drive, Other Brother Darryl
The latest single from musical collective Other Brother Darryl is the definition of bittersweet. The group combines the talents of singer-songwriters Dan Nicklin, Nate Leavitt, and the late Dave Mirabella. This particular song had been percolating amongst the group since 2016 and was taking form at the time of Mirabella’s passing in 2022. It features Mirabella on guitar (and a brief vocal cameo to kick off the song), his bandmates singing lyrics that now take on new meaning:
If you found someone to share the ride
If you found someone whose beats so you won’t die
If you found someone to share the miles
Make sure you tell ‘em that you love them
In the morning and the night
Make sure you tell ‘em that you love them
The sound, anchored by acoustic guitars but with electric guitar and organ weaving their way across the song, recalls the Jayhawks in their prime. More to the point, it is a moving tribute to one of Boston’s lost musical lights.
Idling, John Powhida (from the forthcoming Rock Garden Records release Jerry’s House)
Boston music fixture John Powhida is on the cusp of releasing a long overdue new album. True to form for one of the area’s most wonderfully eclectic artists, it spans from hard-driving rockers to beautiful ballads. As an added bonus, they frequently feature friends and acquaintances that Powhida has met along the way. The first single was the fevered “Knoxville” featuring Sarah Borges. I’m partial, however, to the just released ballad “Idling” with its alluring flugelhorn solo (courtesy of Brian Wilson band member Probyn Gregory) and keyboards (courtesy of Greg Hawkes of The Cars). Ballad or rocker, it doesn’t matter – Powhida has a knack for creative and catchy songwriting.
About the author: Mild-mannered corporate executive by day, excitable Twangville denizen by night.