ALBUM REVIEW: Whiskey Myers – Tornillo


 

A circle of discerning music lovers tasked with burying a time capsule to reveal to future generations the state and spirit of US rock in the mid-to-late 1970s would perhaps have included albums like The Last Waltz and Street-Legal, Born To Run, Grievous Angel, Street Survivors, Rust Never Sleeps and Tornillo – if, in fact, the latter had existed back then. Luckily, for us, right here, it exists right now.

The plaintive, passionate trumpet sound that announces Whiskey Myers’ sixth studio outing (Wiggy Thump Records) recalls Ennio Morricone’s sacred Spaghetti Western movie scores, those orchestral, choral, guitar-twangin’, hoo-ha hollering miracles, and from there we are off on an epic ride aboard a magical, musical iron horse borne on beams of steel. It’s country, it’s country rock, it’s Southern rock and blues – timeless, seamless and, at its very best (‘Other Side’, ‘For The Kids’, the confessional ‘Heavy On Me’, the feisty fun of ‘Feets’), it can be all things to all men (read that as “Allman”, if you so desire).

This is a large sound, a large band in every way, a Texas six-piece fronted by singer and chief songwriter Cody Cannon along with the twin lead guitar attack of John Jeffers and Cody Tate. There’s slide, lap steel and harmonica, with additional contributions from strings, organ, piano and Wurlitzer, the afore-mentioned trumpets plus saxes and trombone, the backing vocals of The McCrary Sisters and more. The sheer joy of the playing of it, the rapture of the extended, all-band work-outs (see ‘The Wolf’, ‘Bad Medicine’), is impressive and infectious. Bassist Jamey Gleaves, drummer Jeff Hogg and keyboards/percussion ace Tony Kent all have their time in the limelight (Jeffers, Kent and Gleaves also appear in the song-writing credits of this band-produced album).

Feelgood rockers and blue-collar humour are present and correct on Tornillo but there is angst and darker emotions as Cannon sings of hiding bruises and hiding scars, the Lord above and the blood of the lamb – rich folks going into space, a political left and right with no one playing the middle. He sings of Fallujah and hunting under a pale moon, of the weight of responsibility, of “learning how to write/ I’m learning how to sleep at night”. ‘John Wayne’ is a ‘Copperhead Road’, post-Vietnam tale of drugs and renegade family legacy, “watching the world go up in flames”. All the guys sound strong but there is doubt and vulnerability, even as the honesty and integrity ring oh so true.

I’ve already tried to say that so much of what is good about Whiskey Myers conjures up the music, heart and soul of the seventies, or at least my seventies, the way I like to remember it. But that stab at historical context is in no way intended as a limitation. Great music, great art, can “play” differently in different times. A recent viewing of Michael Cimino’s once-derided-now-praised Western movie Heaven’s Gate revealed a tale ahead of its time, beyond its specific setting; a tale of ruthless, privileged money-men versus desperate, hard-working immigrants – individual hopes and dreams versus a military-industrial machine. In short, contemporary relevance, at a time now of woke revisionism versus entrenched dogma, meritocracy versus fair representation, didacticism versus agitprop.

It’s a battle for survival but my money’s on the defiant authenticity of Whisky Myers. You start diggin’, I’ll fashion up a time capsule …

 

Buy the album here: https://ffm.to/tornillo-eu

 

9 / 10

CALLUM REID