Old Dogs
Artist: Bill Staines
Label: Red House
ASIN: B000WDTO6Q
Do you ever long to get away?
Sometimes, in the middle of the week, do you have an intense desire to
walk in a meadow, see a shooting star, reflect on a glacial mountain, pluck
an old guitar on an aged, wood front porch, or just scratch the grateful
belly of an old dog? If you don’t, Bill Staines’ music may provide
a momentary escape into the reality of these rare moments through the imagination
that springs from American folk songs. On his newest release,Old
Dogs, Staines’ provides a much-needed respite from the complexities
of today’s world. He also gives a glimpse into the diversity of American
experiences. Through this, he allows his audience to see the past
in a way that informs our appreciation for the present.
The theme of Old Dogs,
like its title song, is a meditation on growing older and simply noticing
the clear-eyed wonder of places and time slowly passing away. Staines’
invites us to join him on a journey through the back roads of Wyoming,
to see the antique-ambiance of a fading, aging Savannah, and to gaze into
the madness of a Montana man “a forgotten son of some old yesterday." The
images pass by like old photographs from an antique trunk locked away for
years.
The fact that these images
can be conjured up is a testament to this album’s rich instrumental, lyrical
and poetic success. Staines’ is credited with the album concept.
While this is not a commonly given credit, it is well deserved. On
both original songs and fine interpretations, Staines’ weaves tales that
resonate with an American experience hidden from modern view and passing
away into our common history. John Stewart’s "Cody" (a duet with
Staines’ talented son, Bowen) and Guy Clark’s "Lone Star Hotel Café"
are prime examples of this theme. The title song, "Old Dogs", gives
an analogy of the love of life that comes from old dogs and a joyful way
to view the human experience of growing older as a path to grace and acceptance.
The one instrumental track, "Andie’s Air", is a melody that could’ve been
written during The Civil War. The traditional song, "Great Dream from Heaven,"
is a look into the faith and the promise of the hereafter. Especially
moving is Staines’ medley of Elizabeth Cotton standards, "Freight Train"
and "Oh Babe It Ain’t No Lie," re-titled "Cotton Pickin" for his use of
Cotton’s style of playing the guitar upside down and backwards; a method
that Staines’ himself uses for his playing today.
The music is straightforward
acoustic instrumentation; skillfully and carefully executed with no attempt
to showcase any one musician, but rather to support the nuance of the song.
This strengthens the focus on the concept and the lyrical content.
The musicians include Brian Wood on lead guitar, Mike Walsh on bass, John
Curtis on mandolin, and Stingy Lapel on percussion, among others.
Special instrumental mention should be given to Billy Novick, who provides
soprano sax on two songs and Oisin McAuley’s wistful use of the violin
(not a fiddle, a violin!). Novick’s saxophone seems an unlikely choice
to appear on a collection of contemporary and traditional folk songs.
The instrument is carefully woven into each song with such harmony; one
has to wonder why this combination isn’t used more often in American folk
music. McAuley’s violin brings out a classical dimension to the songs.
When these instruments are combined with a dobro and piano, the results
are stunning. The instrumental and conceptual continuity of the production
makes it among the best of Staines’ recorded work.
Old Dogs is a fine
example of how an artist can use collaboration to make a relevant statement
about the past, which may serve to restore the collective American imagination
about the cultural and historical landscape of the past. It also
may provide the listener with a deeper appreciation of our present lives
and allow us to see the grace that surrounds us today. And all the
better if the resulting gratefulness is embodied in old dogs and a folksinger
who lingers a while and talks to the autumn wind.
Terry Roland
12/17/2007