REVIEW: Clem Snide, Your Favorite Music (Sire)
- Matt Fink
It appears as if the current alternative-country scene is in danger of not really being sure of its direction. With most of the more noticeable old guard of the movement seemingly wanting to distance themselves from the No Depression sound, such as Jeff Tweedy leading Wilco into more experimental territory and the Jayhawks and Son Volt leaning towards more progressive sounds, few of their contemporaries seem to be able to push the genre along. To be sure, there is as much mediocre music being made on the banner of retro-country as there is good. The fact of the matter is, it's not easy to make good country music anymore. Doing so takes a delicate balance of reverent musicianship without redundancy, while maintaining enough of an irreverent edge to create something new and vibrant. Luckily, Clem Snide is capable of picking up where the aforementioned digressed and, more importantly, move the whole genre forward a step or two.
For the uninitiated, Clem Snide craft delicately multi-textured country music with charmingly sophisticated arrangements, all wrapped around the abstract surreal musings of songwriter Eef Barzelay. In short, if Vic Chesnutt wrote an album's worth of songs for the Jayhawks to record, and Wayne Coyne of the Flaming Lips showed up to produce, this album, or a close approximation, might be the outcome. Like Chesnutt, Barzelay writes songs in an strangely understated way, with each listen revealing a little bigger piece of the puzzle. Though the music is really far from folksy, mundane small town life is presented through the eyes of those burnt out from the 9 to 5 grind.
From the achingly beautiful opener, "The Dairy Queen," driven by carefully picked acoustic guitar and mournful violin and cello, to the classy rewrite of Richie Valens' "Donna," Clem Snide prove themselves more than capable of putting the brains back into what is left of the alternative country movement. As with most bands with this inclination, the ghost of Gram Parsons can be seen hanging around the corners, with the chord progressions and nice harmonies in the gently swinging "Exercise" and the low-key "Bread," which sounds so much like a Parsons' song that you almost expect Emmylou Harris' backup vocals to be ringing in the background. Of course, Clem Snide don't limit themselves to apathetic country balladry, as the muffled dance drum beats of the quirky sing-a-long "I Love the Unknown" will attest. The spooky space country of "1989" and the impressive Wilco mixed with Neil Young ballad, "Loneliness Finds Her Own Way," speak volumes of the depths that this band is capable of reaching. Characteristic of the songwriting here is the stripped down "Sweet Mother Russia," which is a fine example of Barzelay's ability to bring out the beauty inherent in every moment and to toss off some interesting metaphors in the process. At any rate, he's one of the better esoteric lyric writers currently employed in the genre. The straight country-rock of "Messiah Complex Blues" is a great little put down where Barzelay keeps you guessing and hanging on every word.
For those of us who bemoan the current state of country music, we've had to come to the conclusion that only the outskirts of Nashville are capable of producing anything of true relevance. And even if the golden era of the underground country resurgence might be past, Clem Snide is providing a unique example of what tight songcraft, exemplary musicianship and a new perspective is capable of producing. If this is what country has become, we haven't lost too much.
