Having waxed lyrical about the virtues of Jay Farrar's art in a variety of other reviews, I'm reluctant to start oozing further platitudes but, from the first few seconds of opener, 'Bandages And Scars' - the shards of guitar, driving bass and drums and the rich vocals singing "The words of Woody Guthrie ringing in my head", I know it's going to be hard to resist.
And, true enough, by second track 'Afterglow 61' - with it's stomping rhythm, ripped out guitar solo and lyrics that re-tell 'Highway 61' (a wake-up call to the disinherited and disinterested), I'm totally elated by a new Son Volt that has outgunned and over-shadowed the very considerable achievements of the old Son Volt.
The bands are different, with the exception of Farrar himself, completely different personnel, but it's undoubtedly still his vision and drive that's at the helm. It seems that following a few years of either playing acoustically or, experimenting with sound and texture his faith in the electric guitar and the power of a band has returned, renewed and re-energised. There's no messing about here, its direct and simple but everything, musically and lyrically, is articulated beautifully.
For example, 'Jet Pilot' is an aural blast at the fool that currently inhabits the White House (or rather the system that enables him to be there), beginning with a gentle riff that is reminiscent of early REM before roaring off on an altogether heavier riff that reeks of the frustration and disbelief expressed in the lyrics.
Next track 'Atmosphere' observes the existence of "Madmen on both sides of the fence", starting slowly, very Neil Young like, before hitting full speed through a glorious chorus. One of the gentler songs on offer is 'Ipecac' that simply glides along. 'Who' on the other hand tumbles along, falling and laughing on a great band performance that takes complete advantage of the delicious melody contained in the song. If one thing is now abundantly clear through this new version of Son Volt, it's Farrar's renewed ability to imbue difficult lyrics with life affirming melody and warmth.
So, halfway through and believe it or not the best is yet to come.
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'Endless War' is fantastic, when Farrah sings "Still trying to understand how another wrong makes a right / the world needs another young life" and "When video brings footage of children dying/ no moral face to the endless war", the tension created is real and tangible and the accompanying guitar solo, angry and raw.
Reaching back to his experimentation with Eastern sounds and
instrumentation, 'Medication' creates its most fruitful result, a
meditative and trance-like swoon that perhaps considers the legacy of the 60's and the consequent and commonplace emergence of drug-cultures - both legal and illegal - that disable so many, polluting the human system in the same way that we in turn pollute the environment - natural is never enough. Many will be familiar with the song '6 String Belief' but here its given a fresh lick of paint that allows it to sparkle and shine, a veritable hymn to the power of rock 'n' roll. '
'Gramophone' has a gently insistent chug and simple lyrics that bemoan the loss of vinyl records in a very genuine and heartfelt way (The irony strikes as I review the CD version of this album!). 'Chaos Streams' is possibly the least memorable
track but still has a quality that many others would die for and, it leads the way perfectly into 'The World Waits For You' made totally distinctive by being piano-led, bathed in swirling pedal-steel, a beautifully gentle and optimistic song insisting that "In this darkest hour / a brave face will break soon/ The world waits for you". And wouldn't we all like to believe that.
So, bollocks to platitudes. "Okemah..." is simply a wonderful, human album, full of protest and anger and hope. The words of Woody Guthrie indeed....
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