This Train
"The future of This Train is in your hands(sort of)." The postcard said the audience at the "Preview/Concert/Party!" would
determine, by secret ballot, which songs would be on This Train's next
release. In the aftermath of the first severe snow storm of the season,
sixty intrepid voters took the responsibility seriously and listened attentively
to the possibilities, a mixture of works-in-progress and older goodies
that didn't make the first CD. This Train founder Mark Robertson warned
the crowd not to expect too much--half the songs were being played publicly
for the first time--and he wasn't exaggerating. The tight vocals and instrumental
interaction typical of a This Train show were missing from the new material.
But it sounded promising nonetheless. While a run-down of all of the songs performed that night would be impossible, it's safe to say that the band's (bassist Mark, guitarist Jordan Richter, drummer "Cobra" Joe Curet and singer Beki Hemingway) admiration of the best of the '50's--from razor haircuts to Kool-aid to country swing-- continues and that they still approach performing with the lighthearted humor that makes them such fun. "We're Getting Nowhere(Fast)," an ironic assessment of This Train's progress toward fame, illustrated their knack for making fun of themselves. "The Missing Link," a tribute to 50's "neanderthal" guitarist Link Wray (among other things), and "I've Got Half a Mind" exemplify their love of word play and fast rockabilly beats. The title song, "Mimes of the Old West," humorously explores the past of "the most persecuted group on the face of the earth." ("They threw imaginary ropes around imaginary cows, no one was amused!") According to the band, "The Great Atomic Power" by the Louvin Brothers is the worst gospel song ever written, yet it's always a crowd-pleaser and will be included on the next album as a hidden track. The band's new material also touched on some more serious issues. Mark Robertson collaborated with Rich Mullins and Mitch McVicker at Rich's New Mexico desert home to write "A Million Years," capturing the timelessness of that region. "I Don't Want to Know," a song for Compassion International, gives the band room to grow musically beyond the disciplined 50's musical format they have chosen as their means of expression while pointedly challenging their listeners' fondest self-justifications. After an intermission, the band did an all-request set from their first CD, You're Soaking In It! and earlier independent releases. Mark has fourteen years of professional experience playing and producing Christian rock music. When he says he wants This Train avoid "star syndrome," he knows firsthand what that means. He is determined to make audiences feel cared for--that they're at a party where the band gets up and plays, then sits down and talks with friends, old and new, over coffee. The ideal was reached late that evening when band members conversed with die-hard fans who had risked hypothermia to preview the new material. The survey results were disappointing for This Train when tabulated a few days later. On a scale of one through ten, ten being the highest, the worst song got a high average rating of 7.5. The electorate was too kind, and while performing their new songs, the band discovered they were not as ready for a commitment as they thought they were; even the lowest rated numbers might benefit from the right production. During the next few weeks of touring before going into Mark's studio to record in late February, there will be many more opportunities to play their new and improving songs at shows This Train likes to think of as parties for their friends. By Linda Stonehocker, photographs by Shari Lloyd
|
