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The Mountain: Steve Earle By James Sigman Steve Earle and the Del McCoury Band "The Mountain" 1999 E-Squared With his new CD, "The Mountain," Steve Earle takes some very dangerous steps. First, he takes a crack at a musical genre "bluegrass" whose brief heyday has long since passed. Such attempts at revitalizing a neglected genre usually result in either widely ignored discs that quickly fill up the bargain bin or hackneyed, but inexplicably popular, copies of the real thing (For evidence of the latter result, see the latest Amazing Big Bad Royal Cherry Poppin' Orchestra Revue CD).Also, Earle veers away from the usual blend of country, rock and folk that has made him a legend in alternative country circles. Detours like this album run the risk of alienating some fans along the way. Luckily, the iconoclastic Earle has rarely met an obstacle he didn't feel like kicking over. On "The Mountain," Earle and the Del McCoury Band produce a solid album that has the potential to please both the bluegrass and non- bluegrass fan, yet still keep the average Earle fan satisfied. It is both playful and reverential at the same time, and it is this tenuous balance that makes the album so enjoyable. In the liner notes, Earle says he wrote the songs on the album with the intention of having at least one played at every bluegrass festival long after he's "followed Mr. Bill [Monroe] out of this world." Though it's a pretty ballsy claim, he may have found success with "Carrie Brown," which features Del McCoury's high, plaintive tenor backing Earle. Since Earle lacks the usual voice synonymous with bluegrass, McCoury's support is much appreciated on this well- crafted Earleian tale of obsession gone awry. Though the sound is definitely bluegrass, the lyrics, "I shot him in Virginia and he died in Tennessee" are unmistakably Earle. Of all the songs on the disc, this is the most likely to win him bluegrass immortality. Though Earle wrote the songs on the CD, the album's true stars are the musicians who back him. The Del McCoury Band shows that its reputation as one of the best in bluegrass is well-deserved, especially on tracks like the banjo- and fiddle-driven "Texas Eagle" and "Leroy's Dustbowl Blues," with its faint echoes of Dylan's "Tombstone Blues." Jason Carter's fiddle, Mike Bub's bass, Del McCoury's guitar, Ronnie McCoury's mandolin and Rob McCoury's banjo power each song and give the disc an undeniable authenticity. Earle proves himself no slouch either, as he picks up the mandolin on a pair of Celtic-tinged instrumentals "Connemara Breakdown" and "Paddy On The Beat." The similarly Irish-themed "Dixieland," which features Earle's manager Dan Gillis on the tin whistle, also stands out as one of the album's best tracks. In each of these songs the band hits some sort of groove, leading Earle to remark after "Paddy On The Beat," "White people could dance to that one." As if it weren't hard enough to draw newcomers to the disc, Earle has also been criticized for making this album by both bluegrass purists who claim he's not "bluegrass enough" and Earle fans who claim the CD isn't "Earle enough." But both camps miss the point. Sure, Earle doesn't possess the voice traditionally associated with bluegrass and some of the songs veer from true bluegrass, but so what? And comparing this album to Earle's previous work is like comparing apples and ... other apples? like Golden Delicious and McIntosh apples. They taste and look different, but, damn, they're both tasty. Okay, so maybe I lost you there, but my point is that ignoring "The Mountain" because of petty quibbles is pretty foolish. While the disc may not be "pure bluegrass" or Earle's best, it's still an impressive and entertaining collaboration between two incredibly talented musical forces. James Sigman graduated from Ithaca College in 1998. |
