Hailing from that wonderful seething hoted of sonic vice known as Austin, Texas, TOM OVANS is another notable maverick from the Lone Star state whose reputation and an impressive ten album back catalogue precedes.
Ovans, though, has only ever really plied the periphery of this writer's Americana-impaired vision, and bar tracks on Demon/ Frontier Records comps over the years, 'Party Girl' - the follow-up to 2005's acclaimed 'Honest Abe & The Assassins' - is the first opportunity your reviewer has had to tangle with Tom over the space of 50 minutes or so.
And, in the main, the results suggest this dalliance has been long overdue. Recorded predominantly live (and I'd imagine nocturnally) in a small Texan studio with economic rhythm section Cornbread (!) (bass) and drummer Vicente Rodriguez, 'Party Girl' is an atmosphere-first affair with only minimal overdubs (primarily from long-term Ovans associate Larry Chaney and extra vocals from Tom's long-term partner Lou Ann Bardash) and feel'n'emotion winning hands down over studio cleanliness.
Often, that's just the ticket, too. Songs like the unflinching lurch of the opening title track, 'Ain't No River' and the almost-anthemic 'Somebody Told Me' come on like the ultimate in harp-addled bar-room rockers and suit Ovans's bleak, but vivid Dylan-style wordscapes like an envelope around a cheque. His songs speak of late nights, women of dubious pedigree and potential showdowns on every corner ("Guilty or innocent, somebody got to pay/ there are graves full of people who just got in the way" - 'Party Girl') but there's also room for memorable state-of-the-modern-nation observations, like on the excellent, seething 'I'll Be Seeing You' when Ovans spits "I got opinions like everybody else, but mostly these days I just keep them to myself/ you never know who you're talking to/ it's been so long since I've heard about the truth."
As you might expect, Ovans oftens pulls off sparse, blues-y confessionals pretty well too. On songs like 'Whiskey Jar' and the tremendous, Delta-swamped 12-bar of the closing 'West Texas Blues', Ovans is in his element, with his parched and cracked voice occupying the middle ground and the potent acoustic settings perfectly reflecting the blasted open spaces of their author's native landscape.
|
However, therein also lies the rub where this writer's criticisms lie. Yes, Tom and co. can be revelatory when employing their sparse confessionals, but they can also sound lumpen and ponderous when the rely on them too much (as they do on 'Ooh Baby' and the one-dimensional dirge of 'Hole In My Shoe'). Also, while Ovans is clearly a performer of some panache, whether you'll take him to your heart or not will probably hinge on whether you can stomach his raspy delivery, pitched somewhere between Dylan, Tom Waits and Thin White Rope's Guy Kyser. After a fair amount of exposure, it's gradually becoming something this writer can appreciate, but if you're interested in immediacy then Tom's unlikely to be your man.
None of which is to denigrate what is largely a fine record. I can't make pronouncements about the rest of Tom Ovans' catalogue as yet because I'm still a relative novice, however I can say with confidence that if you like your Americana on the gritty, uncompromising side then the chances are you'll appreciate his ragged, but determinedly potent songs. Meanwhile, I'm off to do some digging around in Tom's past to see what other whiskey-soaked nuggets I can find. Barkeep, how 'bout some ice to keep me company, huh?
(www.floatingworld.co.uk)
|
