REVIEW: Various Artists, 'Til We Outnumber 'Em (Righteous Babe)
- Don Share
Tributes, tributes, tributes - I wonder whether one day tribute CD's will take up as much space in stores (if there are still stores) as discs by the artists themselves. I exaggerate, but tribute fatigue must be setting in by now. Sure, they're worthy, fun, and sometimes (valuably) guides to artists you've never heard before. But good intentions, as my wife remarked on hearing this one, do not make a good CD. Ani DiFranco has good intentions, as does her record label, Righteous Babe, which issued this tribute to Woody Guthrie, however...
The album's release coincides with the appearence of the sublime second volume of Billy Bragg and Wilco's settings of Guthrie lyrics, Mermaid Avenue, not to mention reissues of Guthrie's own wonderful recordings. This means that 'Til We Outnumber 'Em must rely on the strengths or weaknesses of its featured performers, and its format. The latter is a big problem. Brief but intrusive spoken word pieces -- some that are recitations of Guthrie's writing, some which are testimonials of his influence -- are strictly one-time listens. (Tim Robbins' overacting nearly ruins a striking passage called "Born Naked.")
As for the music, things kick off promisingly with a various-artists' romp through "Hard Travelin' Hootenany." For those too young to remember hootenanies, they are raucous, purposefully sloppy folk-music sing-alongs. It's nice (and appropriate) to hear one, in this day and age. Also nicely revived is Ramblin' Jack Elliott, a gifted and almost-forgotten folk performer who turns in two fine performances here. If this disc does nothing else, it will introduce people to this other folk legend. Billy Bragg turns in a version of his setting for Guthrie's lyric, "Against the Law," but it's just not as good as the one on the new installment of Mermaid Avenue, sung there by Corey Harris. And while Bruce Springsteen, lightens things with Guthrie's great "Ridin' In My Car" (ending it by uttering, "Sheeyit, why didn't I think of that?"), his version of "Deportee" is flat and too respectful, not as good as the Byrds' old version. Speaking of the Byrds, their version of "Pretty Boy Floyd" is better than David Pirner's here, too. Also disappointing are DiFranco's own contributions. Her "Do Re Mi" takes a song that shouldn't be strange and makes it weird; why Art-up Guthrie? It does the song and its composer no favors. Similarly, her parts on "Ramblin' Round," done with the Indigo Girls, turn a boisterous tune into a lugubrious drag. Arlo Guthrie, ever dependable, gives a spirited (literally) version of "Dust Bowl Disaster," but he can't quite top his old man. The disc closes with a second hootenany of "This Land Is Your Land," marred by a voiced-over rendition of the fable from which the title is derived. The fable is more poignant all by its lonesome, as is, for that matter, the song playing underneath it here.
Sorry to say so, but the album lacks glory, and is missing the fire for which Woody Guthrie will always be known. The best tribute is Wilco and Bragg's; the best recordings are Guthrie's own.
