89.3 The Current and City Pages present OLD 97'S
OLD 97'S
Since the Old 97's roared out of Dallas more than fifteen years ago, they have blazed a trail through alt-country and power-pop, led by the piercingly observant lyrics of lead singer Rhett Miller. Each new Old 97’s record is hotly anticipated, and rightfully so: Blame It On Gravity, from 2008, contained some of the band’s most deeply felt and passionately played songs. But in a career full of high-water marks, The Grand Theatre Volume 1 is perhaps the most ambitious and accomplished set of recordings yet.
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The album, the band’s eighth, began to come together last year, when Miller was on a solo tour of Europe with Steve Earle. “When I started in this band, I wrote on the road constantly,” Miller says. “But I was 23 then, so everything was new to me. Over the years, those strange and wonderful things have begun to feel more commonplace. On the familiar highways, in familiar hotels, it’s pretty easy to turn into a zombie. But on this tour, I was in England and Ireland and Scandinavia, places where I haven’t spent very much time in, and because of that things seemed somehow fresh. I felt recharged. In these old British theaters, you sit around in ancient dressing rooms filled with these objects that could only be in these ancient dressing rooms. It was all very inspiring instead of tiring.”
The result was a set of songs rooted in specific locations. "The title track, which I wrote in Leeds, is like a series of postcards that try to capture the moment of falling in love; it begins in the Grand Theatre, which is a historic venue there, on the elevator. There’s another song, 'Every Night Is Friday Night (Without You),' that I wrote, or at least started to write, while I was walking around in Soho. And a song like ‘The Dance Class’ wouldn’t have happened if I wasn’t in Birmingham, trapped in a hotel, looking out at streets that were bleak and gray except for a dance studio across the way. I imagined an agoraphobic who sees a beautiful girl in that studio and fantasizes about being freed by her." Miller’s portraits of love and loneliness are paired with some of the sharpest music the band has ever produced, from the propulsive celebration of “Every Night Is Friday Night (Without You)” to the manic (and almost panicked) energy of “The Dance Class.” There are also moving counterpoints, such as the album’s closer, “The Beauty Marks,” a stark, hushed ballad about a love affair in a London pub.
Even the songs written on this side of the Atlantic benefit from the same sense of charged observation. "There’s an anthem on there, 'A State of Texas,' that I wrote in New York,” Miller says, “and it’s specifically about not quite being home: the lyrics says ‘I’m living in a state of Texas’, not the state of Texas’.’
When Miller had his songs, he brought them to the rest of the band, and as usual, the Old 97s—the bassist Murry Hammond, the guitarist Ken Bethea, and the drummer Philip Peeples—rose to the challenge and then some. “I’ve been through this process many times—bringing my songs to the guys as we start to make a record-- and I know they're going to do something great with them. I'm still surprised to hear what they do, but I'm no longer surprised to be surprised. But there are so many fantastic things on this record, from a band standpoint. Murry's basslines stray so far from the one-four alt-country style that he's known for. They're things that he might have played in our previous band, Sleepy Heroes, eighteen years ago, but he hasn't, for the most part, done it on Old 97's records."
Though Miller is frequently funny and self-deprecating, the Volume 1 of the title is not a joke. "I came back from the trip with more than two dozen songs," Miller says. "I kept thinking we would whittle the set down, but it became obvious that none of the songs were falling by the wayside.” That meant, for the first time in the band’s career, that the Old 97s would record a double album. “But how do you really have a double album in today's climate?” says Miller. “I mean, think about how records are distributed and consumed." The solution was not a traditional double album (as it would have been in the seventies or eighties) or two albums released simultaneously (as it would have been in the nineties), but rather a pair of thematically linked records released six months apart: The Grand Theatre Volume 2 is due out in July 2011.
DEAD MAN WINTER
On a bleak, cold, frighteningly typical winter night in 2002, the last band I was in before Trampled by Turtles played our final show in a modified pizza restaurant-turned-venue in Duluth, Minnesota. The show ended, our band ended, glasses clinked cheers. We had plenty of help loading out our gear that night. So much, in fact, that someone walked away with my electric guitar and amp.
ROBERT ELLIS
Who is Robert Ellis? At first glance, he’s simply a smiling, longhaired, twenty-two-year old in a hand-stitched western shirt and Dwight Yoakam-tight blue jeans. But there’s more to this youthful Houston, Texas native than meets the eye. The New York Times recently proclaimed that Ellis sounds “equally inspired by Jackson Browne and George Jones.” Not a bad reference point for an artist his age. Ellis cut his teeth performing the songs of similar luminaries around town, most notably at the neighborhood beacon, Fitzgerald’s.




