Rating:
Genre:
Country
Release Date: 10/17/2006
As 2006 nears its end, no one can argue that the world of
country music isn't, at this moment, the most adventurous in the mainstream
pop music industry and that Nash Vegas is taking more chances on its acts as the rest of the biz relies more on narrowing things into smaller and smaller niches that can easily be hyped and digested. Sure, as always, artist's images and many recordings are calculated to score big as in any
pop industry. The difference is in approach. The
country-listening audience/demographic has widened considerably; therefore, there is a need -- as well as an opportunity -- for experimentation to see what sticks. This is the most exciting the music's been since
Willie and
Waylon hit the charts in the '70s, or perhaps to be a bit more fair, when
Garth Brooks turned them upside down in the early '90s.
Country music's fan base is growing because it still relies largely on radio, and video channels like
CMT and
GAC, both of which are very supportive of directors and artists taking artistic chances in the way they choose to dramatize, animate, and portray songs -- check the work of the brilliant director
Trey Fanjoy just for starters.
Country's latest audience grew up on
rock & roll,
MTV (when it still played videos),
soul,
blues,
funk, early
rap, and in some cases even
punk. And while the marketing approach is still singles-driven,
country music artists and producers, as well as the labels that house them, are still concerned with the "album" either as a whole, or as a completely crafted collection of varying singles (in this case meaning "good songs"). What's more, these folks still buy CDs (titles are readily available at the local in mega-marts and department stores) and don't rely on the internet as much as
pop and
rock fans do for information. Given the long run of the
Dixie Chicks'
Taking the Long Way at number one on the
country and
Billboard charts, one can't simply dismiss the music as being the religious right's stronghold or
pop culture front for "traditional family values" anymore, either, though admittedly there's plenty of that around. In the 21st century it's
country music and
hip hop -- not
rock -- that have been taking on the topics of race, class, basic human dignity and diversity, more than any other popular (chart measured) American musics.
This current mindset in both the Nash Vegas offices and in the fan base is what makes
Vince Gill's
These Days, a 43-song, four-disc set, possible.
Gill had been planning on making a standard single-disc record in 2006. He wanted it to be musically diverse. Given his long career as songwriter, picker, producer, singer, recording and performing artist, he had a right to expect his label
MCA Nashville to go along with his choices. What he didn't count on was recording 31 songs with various groups of musicians and not knowing what to do with them. He approached
Luke Lewis, the label's president, with an idea he got from
the Beatles multi-release-per-year tactic (the same one everybody used in the '60s), which was to issue three albums approximately three months apart in a single calendar year.
Lewis, visionary that he is, went one better. He encouraged
Gill to go back into the studio and cut enough quality material for a fourth disc and release them all as a box set. Unlike most boxes on the shelf, this one retails for a fairly modest $29.98 -- less than eight dollars a disc -- an attractive package in time for the holidays.
However, adventurous Nashville music industry or not, it all eventually comes down to the quality of the music after all, right? Yes. These four discs are thematically arranged: there's an acoustic
bluegrass-flavored record called "Little Brother" (disc four), a
rock record called "Workin' on a Big Chill" (disc one), a trad
country & western album called "Some Things Never Get Old" (disc three), and a modern
soul and
jazz-inflected disc of
ballads and more gentle pieces called "The Reason Why" (disc two). What's more, though
Gill wrote or co-wrote everything here, he called in numerous guests to help him out. These include
Gretchen Wilson, his wife
Amy Grant, daugher
Jenny Gill,
Bonnie Raitt,
Rodney Crowell,
Sheryl Crow,
Diana Krall, pedal steel guitar boss
Buddy Emmons,
Phil Everly,
Rebecca Lynn Howard, the
Del McCoury Band,
Patty Loveless,
Emmylou Harris,
John Anderson,
Katrina Elam,
Lee Ann Womack,
LeAnn Rimes,
Guy Clark,
Trisha Yearwood,
Bekka Bramlett, and
Michael McDonald. The end result is a magical mystery tour through
Gill's own wildly varying aesthetic interests and his uncanny ability to pull off his diverse ideas on tape.
These Days is not only a showcase of
Gill's multidimensional musical persona, but a virtual treatise on the expansive, open-minded, under the umbrella viewpoint that has taken over Nashville in the current era.
"Workin' on a Big Chill" lives up to its name as a
rock record as reflected in the tunes, the beats, and the instrumentation. The title track alone, with
Gill's own considerable bluesed-out guitar-slinging skills burning down the house, punches a hole in expectations; the track also includes a Wurlitzer, a B-3 and
Bramlett's killer backing vocals.
"Love's Standin'" was written with co-producer
John Hobbs (
Justin Niebank and
Gill, of course, also inhabit these chairs), and the wonderfully iconoclastic songwriter and producer
Joe Henry (it could have been a smash for
Fleetwood Mac), and showcases the sheer white
soul backing chorus of
Bramlett (who was a member of the latter day
Fleetwood Mac),
Gene Miller, and
Gill.
Wilson guests on
"Cowboy Up," is more an upscale
blues tune than a
country song and proves
Wilson can sing anything she wants and belongs where she is -- at the top. While there isn't a weak moment on this set, some of the other standouts include the popping
"Sweet Thing," with a full-on horn section, the
Jerry Lee Lewis-inspired
"Nothin for a Broken Heart," with
Crowell, and the utterly sexy and soulful
country rocker
"The Rhythm of the Pourin' Rain," with
Bramlett. The only complaint here is that there isn't more of this material: four CDs of
rock & roll tracks would have been welcome, and if
rock radio were worth a damn
Gill would easily crossover with a couple of these songs.
With its subdued tone, and generally slicker productions that include strings, some muted synthesizers, jazzy arrangements, and
pop music stylistic tropes, one might think that "The Reason Why: The Groovy Record" would be the least desirable here. Not so. From the opening cut,
"What You Don't Say," with
Rimes and a full-on string section with ringing pedal steel,
Gill proves he is an American
pop songwriter
par excellence. If all the music on the charts was done this well, with this much passion and
soul and pomp, radio would never have lost its appeal. This is the album in the set that reveals the depth of
Gill's craft as a songwriter. The early
rock & roll waltz trappings and vibes, as well as distorted piano on the title cut with
Krauss, is a gorgeous love song with some of
Gill's finest vocals on tape. Period.
"Rock of Your Love" could have been featured on any of
Raitt's latter recordings, and that's a compliment. The slow, dirty guitar line and
Raitt's
R&B slow burning voice carry it home. Where
Gill uses guest vocalists -- female vocalists have always provided a wise counterpoint to his own husky tenor -- the tunes work so well most could be singles. Check
"What You Give Away," with
Crow, and
"The Memory of You," with
Yearwood. They're solid; full of honest emotion and
pop brilliance.