John Wayne finds Taylor doing what he has always done best:
creating a musically eclectic album of thought-provoking and faith-inspiring
content. It is his umpteenth album in a career spanning 20 plus years as
the main man behind such bands as Daniel Amos and The Swirling Eddies,
and a principal member of the Lost Dogs. However, it is only the fourth
to bear his name as a solo album. He'd be the first to tell you that
his albums are never really solo efforts, however. Here he shares the stage
with an impressive host of friends, including his Lost Dogs pals--Mike
Roe on guitars, Derri Daughtery on guitars, and Gene Eugene on keyboards--as
well as Daniel Amos members Tim Chandler on bass and Ed McTaggert on drums.
Additionally, former Prayer Chain member Andy Prickett grinds some guitar
parts, the ubiquitous Phil Madeira adds keyboards, accordion, and lap steel,
and Burleigh Drummond plays some percussion. Together they generate a tight,
textured sound with great energy and enthusiasm.
Those familiar with Taylor's previous solo albums may be surprised
to find that this one has less in common musically with the mellower fare
of Knowledge and Innocence or Briefing for the Ascent. It
certainly has more straight-forward lyrical content than the brilliantly
absurd bits from Neverhood Songs. In fact, John Wayne
has much more in common with recent Daniel Amos offerings. He has effectively
combined a sound that is most reminiscent of Bibleland, Songs
of the Heart and the best bits from Kalhoun. The result is an
infectiously furious, gutsy rock band sound with jangly guitars, slippery
bass, big beats, instantly memorable melodies, rich harmonies, and lots
of appropriately noisy bits. Although somewhat similar in overall orchestration,
none of the songs sound the same, and everyone of them is catchier than
striped bass in a fish breeding pond (meaning that you won't be able to
stop singin' along).
Taylor has taken his inspiration from close to home, with songs
centering on Orange County, John "The Duke" Wayne, and the John Wayne International
Airport. Don't be fooled, however, by this clever veneer. Every song is
actually an opportunity for Taylor to sing his signature songs of overcoming
life's difficulties through the light of love, faith, hope, and strident
dependence on our Great God of Grace. He is at his introspective best on
this collection. For example, "Mr. Flutter" finds Taylor as honest, crafty,
and accessible as ever:
Well, I'm tryin'
to write a song
But I don't
have the words
And my kids
need a doctor
But I'm not
insured
And my wife
she looks pale
She got the
check in the mail
And it's not
the amount
We were thinking
about
I got a friend
on high
And he feels
my pain
But I still
got this dust
Flowin' through
my veins
And I want to
have faith
And I want to
know grace
But it's hard
to break through
When the rent's
overdue.
Later, in a throwback to his country-roots days in "Ten Gallon Hat,"
Taylor offers his trademark brand of humor and wit in a song that reminds
his avid fans to accept him as both saint and sinner. This tension
of being both beloved of God and wading in the nasty mud this side of heaven
is a theme that carries through much of this album, and finds its most
beautiful fruition in the album's last track. "You Lay Down" accurately
and breathtakingly depicts Jesus as accepting us despite our evil inclination.
One of the best, most effective, engaging, and captivating songs he has
ever penned, "You Lay Down" is right up there with "My Hand to God" as
a new hymn worth hearing.
You didn't say
a word when we accused you
You did not
fight back when we scarred and bruised you
When hate was
crowned king your love never diminished
You stood meek
as a lamb there without blemish
And we laughed
when you cried out: "It is finished"
So you lay down
and I'll step upon your back
Up high enough,
above the fence, to see all the way to glory land.
More could be said about this ingenious album which time may title
his Darn Floor, Big Bite for the nineties, but why spoil all the
Tayloresque surprises. If nothing else, this album closes the case
on whether or not Taylor has still got it. John Wayne approaches
his best work, with its intimate, appealing, and witty window into the
soul of one who wrestles with God. God must let Taylor win a few of those
matches, just because he loves him so dearly, and this album is your ringside
ticket for the bout.
By Steven Stuart Baldwin (9/7/98)
Country, New Wave, alternative rock, computer game soundtracks, satirical punk... Terry Taylor has been around several musical blocks over the past two decades. Now seemingly more settled with his position at KMG Records, this recording provides the listener with a sound which shows influences from all his previous work.
The album opens darkly. The string-section backing for "Writer's Block" has a slightly strained feel as Taylor's customarily well-crafted lyrics take a look at questions which confront some of those who choose to express themselves in this medium:
