
In the current and penultimate issue of No Depression magazine, Gary Louris talks about the '70s, rootsy Laurel Canyon vibe of his new solo CD Vagabonds. "...for my voice and what I do, 1970 was a good year," Louris says. That's putting it mildly. Vagabonds seems to have come straight to us from some classic-rock parallel universe; it's best songs wouldn't sound out of place on the soundtrack of some period movie like Easy Rider or Five Easy Pieces.
I fell for Louris's music when I heard the Jayhawks' Hollywood Town Hall back in 1992. That album seemed to position them as the next great essential American rock act, in the footsteps of The Band, Neil Young, and others. The followup, Tomorrow the Green Grass, had its moments but always seemed to be trying a little too hard to be commercial. I lost touch with the band after that, though I do recall buying one of the Jayhawks' Mark Olson-less albums. But with Vagabonds and Olson's recent Salvation Blues, my Jayhawaks-fever is reborn. The best news contained in that same No Depression article is that Louris and Olson have recorded an album together that's set for release later this year.
Down to business: Vagabonds kicks off with "True Blue," a mellow statement of artistic purpose:
Strip it down to what you can believe in/Pass it on, what is right and true blue
It's worth taking a moment to mention the supporting cast, which comes courtesy of producer Chris Robinson. Robinson is of course better known as the singer for the Black Crowes; the musicians backing Louris here share the same talent for an unforced retro sound as the Crowes at their best. Adam MacDougal's keyboards and the pedal steel of Josh Grange in particular are all over Vagabonds.
"Omaha Nights" is the real bid for a hit on Vagabonds, it's impossible to listen without picturing Peter Fonda having life-changing revelations. Louris's guitar drives this mid tempo ballad:
All the days are numbered/Are they slipping through my fingers/Am I singing melodies all meant for other singers/Occupying spaces that were clearly meant for others/Am I growing old in the arms of the wrong lovers
The chorus of backup singers billed as the "Laurel Canyon Family Choir" is most prominent on this track and includes Robinson, Susanna Hoffs, and Jenny Lewis of Rilo Kiley. The acoustic & pedal steel drenched "To Die A Happy Man" ends with a bit of gospel-style call and response from the Choir, and their harmonies support "She Only Calls Me On Sundays," a country song about a screwed-up love affair that wouldn't sound out of place on Harvest.
She only calls me on Sundays/When she's had her fill/Of red wine and cigarettes/And prescription pills
"We'll get by but we don't know how" is the chorus of "We'll Get By," which will send you running to your old Crosby, Stills, & Nash albums and smacks of the kind of uncertainty that runs through Louris's lyrics. There's a similar feel to "Black Grass" and even the tossed-off "I Wanna Get High." Has Gary Louris actually made an album about post-hippie disillusionment in 2008? I don't want to push the classic-rock thing too far, since anyone looking for a contemporary message in these songs could probably find one. But the triumph of Vagabonds is how it walks that line between familiarity and newness.
Title song "Vagabonds" is a bit too similar to "Omaha Nights." One of the album's strongest track is the austere, acoustic "D.C. Blues," a statement of concern and of hope in our society:
Now I'm off to Philadelphia/On the eve of what's to come/This old boy's got the D.C. Blues/They've got me on the run
Grange's pedal steel is especially lyrical here. The nervous "Meandering" closes the album with the line "Meandering lines to the morning," which works as a summation for a CD that seems to celebrate not getting things quite right. Gary Louris can't transport himself back to 1970, but that's OK. We need him here.
(all lyrics by Gary Louris)
