Album Review
Tom Catmull and the Clerics Nail New Album
By Bob Wire, 10-08-06
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The last five years have seen a boom of local musicians buying multi-track recorders and software, and converting their basements or spare bedrooms into recording studios. The result has been a few full-length CDs that sound every bit as good as the $18.98 Major Label slabs being delivered by the pallet to Wal-Mart. The line between computer geek and musician has blurred -- that pierced hipster in the trendy glasses you see at the coffee shop just might be mixing down an album on his laptop while he sips his triple mochaccino.
Like my recent release, "American Piehole," (which seems destined to become this generation' s "Sgt. Pepper") "Tom Catmull & the Clerics" is a home-brewed project, one that Catmull has been sweating over for upwards of two years. The majority of it was recorded in Tom' s basement, on his Tascam digital multitracker. Other tracks were recorded here and there, and the whole thing was mixed at his guitarist' s kitchen table.
That guitarist, Gibson Hartwell, contributes exactly one vocal to the project. "I'm just gonna wipe something under the chair," he announces at the beginning of "All The Good In The World," the best song on the CD. After depositing some unnamed bodily goo, he rips into some razor sharp guitar licks. Mason Tuttle' s mandolin anchors the bouncy rocker, without a lot of "look at me!" fancy picking. That' s a recurring phenomenon throughout the album: the singer, instruments, percussion, harmonies -- they all serve the song instead of hogging the spotlight.
This album has more of a country feel than Catmull' s previous releases, but I mean authentic, traditional country. Not that plastic, soft-rock ringtone bait they' re churning out these days in Nashvegas. Right from the first listen, TC&C is polished, confident, and achieves a consistent level of musical and lyrical poise, yet is as comfy and easygoing as an old leather jacket. It' s tasty. It' s chewy. Hell, by the fourth song, you want to spread cream cheese on the damn thing and eat it. The aural depth and expansiveness of the mix belie the fact that the album was recorded ten feet from Catmull' s washer-dryer.
The opening cut, "Live and Die," sounds a lot like early Uncle Tupelo. The pedal steel is front and center, leaving no doubt as to the rootsy backbone beneath these tightly-arranged nuggets. The rhythm section of John Sporman on bass and Travis Yost on drums shows marvelous restraint and tastefulness. This is especially impressive in the case of Yost, who has built a local reputation as a flawless timekeeper whose cracked-brain personality keeps things interesting in the studio and on the road.
"Hole In Her Head" has been getting some local airplay, and it' s probably the mellowest cut on the album. Don' t make the mistake of thinking, "Oh, another eye-batting folkie dude." It' s a great song, but Tom really extends himself stylistically on the rest of the tunes. "Sail On Gone" is an unvarnished stunner, featuring just finger-picked acoustic guitar and Tom' s bruised, world-weary voice. "The cancer took her in a quiet year / Like rust horizon to a blue frontier" actually brought a tear to the eye of this jaded old goat.
This is music written by a smart man who just doesn' t seem to have a nasty bone in his body. Which means, of course, he has no future in the music business. But he' s far from some heart-on-his-sleeve softie. He' s just honest. Honesty should not be mistaken for vulnerability. Tom has a sharp eye for detail, and a great way of writing a lyric without simply stitching together a tired quilt of well-worn phrases. He' s not entirely without irony or humor, too. I like how he drops the phrase "bullshit" in appropriate spots in a couple songs. (Note to Tom -- you don' t gotta work blue, buddy. Don' t gotta work blue.)
Dan Funsch' s accordion lends a nice lift to "Big Tears," a mid-tempo slice of optimism, pointing to "old letters carrying good news" and "a prayer even the devil could sell." Some songs have the slimmest of narrative thread, like "Never Say Never," a loose ode to a shiftless heartbreaker who "lost my baby in a game of cards." Grace Decker' s chattering fiddle swings in to propel the rhythm, but, again, refuses to become the focus. Likewise, Tom' s singing floats on the gentle swells of Hartwell' s pedal steel, but that steel is understated and well behaved.
The lone cover song, Tom Waits' "Poncho' s Lament," is played as a gentle country-fied shuffle. Catmull sings-talks his way through in his best laconic, late-night croon. His voice is a distinctive one, but that' s not to say it' s an "acquired taste," which would be an insult. The man can flat-out sing. He can hold a note with an effortless vibrato, toss an offhand yodel at the end of a phrase, or rein in his delivery to the point where it sounds like he' s singing through clenched teeth. It' s just one more expertly-handled instrument that helps define the personality of the song he' s singing. Vocals are presented with a minimum of effects, which takes balls, but really increases the intimacy between singer and listener.
I' ve yet to hear anyone release a flawless CD (except, perhaps, "American Piehole," which just might become this generation' s "Dark Side of the Moon"), and TC&C won' t be the first. In several songs, the two-part harmony sounds just a frog hair off, but that may be more an issue of two vocal qualities not meshing smoothly than a problem of pitch. (The frog hair, by the way, is one of the smallest increments of measurement, and will probably be lost once we embrace the metric system.) Fortunately, the harmony track is somewhat low in the mix, making this a minor quibble.
Another complaint is that the CD title on the front cover is so subtle it' s practically invisible, and the song titles on the back cover are kind difficult to read over the busy background.
Overall, with the help of some digital wizardry, analog know-how, and a whole lot of kick ass songwriting, Tom Catmull has managed to deliver an outstanding collection of original, emotional, honest music that satisfies the head as well as the heart. If you listen closely, you might even be able to hear the dryer buzzer.
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