Magnolia Electric Co. – Josephine – Album Review

There are a couple of things that are interesting about the new record from Magnolia Electric Co.  Principally is the band’s steadfast attachment to a certain sound and ethos.  This is best understood as a nearly pure country record; certainly there are moments where the sound diverges towards a rockier place, but this isn’t an “alt-country” album in the way that the term is traditionally understood.  It’s a country record.  Put this thing out thirty years ago on a Nashville-based label and we’re talking about this band in the same breath as folks like Willie Nelson; a song like “Pretty Paper” would fit right in on Josephine.  There’s even a song called “Song For Willie,” and I don’t know of many other prominent Willies past Willie Stargell and these folks aren’t from Pittsburgh.  (You know that we shy away from overt comparisons to canonical artists here at Citizen Dick, but this one is inescapable, mostly because I don’t have another go-to country artist to compare this band to.  If you’re more steeped in classical country, feel free to bitch slap me in the comments.)  There’s a distinct twang in the vocal and instrumental delivery throughout the record and the content has that stereotypically country tint, focusing on loss and longing.  The second, potentially more interesting, thing to notice about the record is the songwriting’s decidedly literary bent.  The most overt evidence that these dudes read books is that there’s a song named after a Studs Terkel tome.  The song “Whip-poor-will” reads like a poem from some long-lost contemporary of the dude who wrote “Tintern Abbey;” it’s impossible to snag a snippet from the lyrics without doing the song an injustice, but I’ll try anyway.  (Keep in mind that you’re going to want to soak this one in its entirety as soon as possible.  Oh.  And.  I know that Wordsworth wrote that poem.  I was just trying to piss Kevin off.)  The lyric that sticks with me: “All of you folks in heaven not to busy ringing the bells, some us down here ain’t doing very well, some of us with our windows open in the Southern Cross Hotel.”  Jesus.  Hunt down something more liltingly beautiful and deeply poetic on a record this year and I will kiss your ass.  Bits of genius like that are scattered all over this album; blend that lyrical flair with its easy-on-the-ears southern vibe and you’ve got a total winner.

Josephine is a bit more than a good record though.  In January of last year, the band’s bass player, Evan Farell passed away.  The album serves as the band’s memorial to Farell’s memory and, one presumes, a method for dealing with their grief over his loss.  (Those looking to do some good with their disposable cash can contribute to a memorial fund for Farell’s wife and sons here.)  The fact that the record is a tribute to a lost friend and artist adds a clear layer of depth and sincerity.  As mentioned above, these are, largely, songs about loss and loneliness; the place from which they spring is real.  There’s a weird kind of duplicity at play here, in that the record is both tragic and deeply enjoyable to listen to; it’s a warm and inviting album that swallows the listener up with its tunes and rhythms.  Given that the record is largely influenced by a death, that level of enjoyment can feel a bit odd.  I’d argue that a good tribute to Farell is to enjoy the work that’s been influenced by his passing; when David Foster Wallace shuffled off, for instance, I read Infinite Jest cover to cover and loved every page.  (Don’t judge me.  Id’d read his non-fiction and short stuff before his death.)  The same kind of pulling art from tragedy is at work here, I think.

Musically, this thing is packed with songs that are both exquisitely crafted and, shortly, good.  Josephine opens with the stellar “O Grace!,” that incorporates an out-of-the-blue horn section that fits perfectly; the song opens with a smooth piano line, brings in some multiple part harmonies for a goose-bump raising chorus and then throws the horns at you almost as an afterthought.  They should sound out of place, but they don’t at all.  The slide guitar in “Shenandoah” is of particularly high quality, scorching out of the speakers, dripping with emotion.  “Song for Willie” has one of my favorite lyrics on the record: “As long as there are sundowns, there will always be a west.”  (I’d probably argue with that contention after a beer or two.  If the west represents man’s urge to expand into the frontier, tame lawless lands, live unconstrained by overpopulated cities and the like, we’ve probably already eaten all of that up by now.  But it’s still a nice sentiment.  And that’s probably not how Jason Molina meant it anyway.)  We could keep going with this enumeration of the particular strengths of each track, but it’s probably enough to say that there’s not a clunker on Josephine.  I’ve been doing a lot of yard work lately and I just hit play on the ipod and let this one go.

Josephine hit stores yesterday and, given its quality and weight, deserves a spot on your shelf.  You’re going to have to spit shine your cowboy boots before dropping the needle on this one tough.  Wouldn’t hurt to polish your spittoon either.

“Little Sad Eyes” – Magnolia Electric Co.

“Josephine” – Magnolia Electric Co.

Snag Magnolia Electric Co. at insound.