Another twangy Margasak column.
http://www.chireader.com/hitsville/990423.html
Pop Goes the Country
Mandy Barnett grew up in Cumberland County, Tennessee, and by age ten
was singing her summers away at Dollywood. She entertained at political
rallies for both Lamar Alexander and Al Gore, hit the Grand Ole Opry
stage at the ripe old age of 12, and at 13 signed a development deal
with Nashville big cheese Jimmy Bowen, then at Universal. But instead of
getting sucked through and spat out of the machine like some southern
Celine Dion, Barnett discovered that she didn't much care for country
music--at least not the kind that was coming out of Nashville in the 90s.
Last week Barnett released her second album, I've Got a Right to Cry
(Sire), a collection that brazenly borrows the "Nashville Sound" of the
60s. Ironically, it's that poppy, orchestral sound--lush strings,
tinkling piano, soft guitar picking, woozy steel washes, supersweet
backup singing, and lead vocals that owe as much to Broadway as the
Opry--that's indirectly responsible for the bland Stetson rock that
passes for the sound of Nashville today. For better (the Mavericks) or
worse (Shania Twain), it broadened country's palette to include pop and
vice-versa.
The Nashville Sound, sometimes called "countrypolitan," was developed in
the late 50s and early 60s by a handful of producers, including Chet
Atkins, who worked with Jim Reeves, Skeeter Davis, and Don Gibson, and
Owen Bradley, who made stars of Brenda Lee, Loretta Lynn, and Patsy
Cline. In fact, though the press materials that accompanied my copy of
the album take pains not to mention it, Barnett spent three nights a
week through most of 1994 and '95 playing Cline in the hit musical
"Always...Patsy Cline" at Nashville's Ryman Auditorium, and at times on
I've Got a Right to Cry, she still sounds an awful lot like her. Owen
Bradley met Barnett while she was in the show, and eventually came out
of retirement to produce four tracks on her new album. After he died
last January, at 82, his brother, guitarist Harold Bradley, and Harold's
son Bobby finished the job.
Barnett's first album was made for Asylum in 1996 with producer Bill
Schnee, who had worked with Natalie Cole, Barbra Streisand, and Whitney
Houston, and it was an obvious attempt to capitalize on her stage
success without offending country radio's sensibilities. Barnett
excelled on the tunes with more complex melodies, such as "Planet of
Love" and "Maybe" by Jim Lauderdale, but on the sappy ballad "A Simple I
Love You" she sounded woefully at odds with the material. Despite three
charting singles and plenty of critical acclaim, the album stiffed, and
she parted ways with the label. She was the first artist signed to Sire
after founder Seymour Stein relaunched the label as a separate entity
from Elektra in 1997. "I'm willing to stake my reputation on Mandy," he
told the LA Times.
While she tackles a few honky-tonk numbers on I've Got a Right to
Cry--including the Carl Smith classic "Trademark"--mostly she sticks
with material that can clearly be classified as pop. Not for nothing
have the songs on her album been covered in the past by singers like
Patti Page, Perry Como, Tom Jones, and Engelbert Humperdinck. Page
scored a number 11 pop hit in 1950 with her big-band rendition of "With
My Eyes Wide Open I'm Dreaming," a slice of tepid postwar romantic hokum
with all the rhythmic sophistication of a windshield wiper. Barnett's
version is instrumentally leaner--even with overripe backing vocals--and
with her cool croon and subtle southern drawl, she stretches out the
pretty melody with sharper accents, increased range and rhythmic lilt,
and all around greater emotional nuance than Page.
I'd go so far as to call Barnett's record one of the best pop albums so
far this year--but I'm hedging my bets on whether it'll sell like one.
Unlike Owen Bradley's last production job, K.D. Lang's 1988 album,
Shadowland, it's completely irony-free, which means it's wildly out of
step not just with mainstream Nashville but also the alternative country
scene. Sire seems to be trying to pique the interest of country radio by
building Barnett a pop following--a strategy that worked for Dwight
Yoakam and BR5-49. The label sent the album's first single only to
Americana and "nonreporting" country stations, and Barnett was on
Letterman last week; too bad most of the songs are too slow to propel a
Gap commercial.
Postscripts
Pinetop Seven guitarist Charles Kim has written themes and incidental
music for the Theater Oobleck production Pinochet: A Carnival; it's
performed live by a sax quartet that sometimes includes him. The play
runs Thursdays through Saturdays until May 15 at the Holy Covenant
United Methodist Church, 925 W. Diversey; call 773-743-6652 or see the
theater listings in Section Two for more information. The rarely seen
Pinetop Seven will play Metro on June 3, toward the end of a
two-and-a-half-week tour with Calexico.
In early March violinist Andrew Bird was in New York to record music
for the sound track to Tim Robbins's forthcoming film, Cradle Will Rock,
the story of Orson Welles's attempt to stage a controversial prounion
opera in 1937. The score is by Robbins's brother David, who also
contributed music to Dead Man Walking; Bird and the great Cuban
saxophonist Paquito D'Rivera improvised on it. In February, Bird and his
band Bowl of Fire cut their next album, Oh! The Grandeur, in New
Orleans; it's due August 24 from Rykodisc.
The same label has just reissued three studio albums by Chicago
industrialists My Life With the Thrill Kill Kult--Sexplosion! (1991), 13
Above the Night (1993), and Hit & Run Holiday (1995). Time has not been
kind to them.
On May 4 Minty Fresh will release Wonder Boy Plus, the long
out-of-print, self-released debut album by the Aluminum Group with ten
previously unreleased bonus tracks. The band is currently finishing its
next record, Pedals, with producer Jim O'Rourke; special guests include
the High Llamas' Sean O'Hagan on banjo. It's due August 17.
