Vincent Neil Emerson’s East Texas Blues
Think about this: Leon Bridges’ and Vincent Neil Emerson’s respective sounds are dissimilar enough that the comparison might seem inappropriate, the former singing soul, the latter country. But there’s enough overlap between the two that they make for an interesting comparison. They are close in age (early 20s), and both were raised by single mothers. Both also learned the craft of songwriting as teenagers and started out in music by trying earnestly to fit into the world with a guitar in front of them. Bridges? Well, I heard a KXT DJ the other day follow up a White Denim song with a bit of biographical trivia that even my mom knows by now and that the Weekly was the first to write about (“Wonderful World,” Aug. 27, 2014): Two members of White Denim produced and played on Leon Bridges’ major-label debut album, Coming Home. Why did she have to share that info? For starters, it’s in every article about him, to the point where the origin story is as much a part of the cultural canon as Spider-Man’s. But also: Is not White Denim an excellent band on its own? (Answer: Yes, indeed.) Or does any tenuous association with Leon Bridges automatically make something more legitimate? (Hint: It does! Exhibit A: this article.)
Anyway, as artists, both wring emotion from arrangement and performance alike while hewing as close to their influences as possible. For Bridges, that means Sam Cooke and The Temptations. For Emerson, Steve Earle and John Prine. In particular, Emerson’s heartbreaking ruminations on his deceased father — “Another Song for You” and “Livin’ with Your Blues” — are at least as soulful as Bridges’ international hit (one of them, anyway), “Better Man.”
Emerson’s songs, however, are loaded with a lot of grit. He’s a songwriter who’s not afraid to dig into the darkness at the root of a sad song. That he’s coming from a real place (poverty, his father’s suicide, a 10th-grade education, East Texas) makes up for what might be dismissed as Steve Earle Mad-Libbery. It makes me wonder if the same kind of production used to promote and record Bridges could elevate Emerson’s material to comparable Columbia Records-esque, Jimmy Fallon-esque heights.
But there’s more to life than sad songs made for front-porch navelgazing. I found a few moments on this album (“Fool in the Mirror,” “Stray Dog Blues”) that made me wish someone had made him listen to George Strait’s “Ace in the Hole.” A lot of Emerson’s songs feel like they want to boogie just a little bit harder.
Produced by Fort Worth’s Robby Rux (Year of the Bear) and Britt Robisheaux (The Longshots, War Party, Spacebeach), Vincent Neil Emerson’s East Texas Blues shows its creator’s potential to make some truly moving music. His debut is pretty good, and it makes you look forward to hearing what he does next. — Steve Steward
Jonathan Tyler’s Holy Smokes
Jonathan Tyler’s ballsy retro-rock sound earned a glowing review in these pages in 2007 when he and his band, The Northern Lights, first hit the scene with their independently released debut album. Hot Trottin’ was as rough and raucous as the Dallasite’s photo on the cover –– one eye shut, cigarette dangling, hair a mess, his visage the embodiment of the rock ’n’ roll lifestyle. The album featured several killer songs, such as “She’s From the Other Side,” and led to a major label deal with Atlantic Records. Tyler released Pardon Me in 2010, but the label riffraff squeezed the rough edges and reckless abandon from the music. Tyler’s momentum faded, and that was the last I heard of him. But now comes Holy Smokes, a new album steeped in the retro sound but with enough contemporary forays to make it sound fresh and invigorating.
Tyler’s name is front and center, but “The Northern Lights” is gone. Turns out a legal entanglement forced the band to drop the name. And Tyler co-produced this indie effort and wrote or co-wrote most of the songs. I’m not sure what Tyler’s been up to for the last five years, but one thing is certain –– the dude’s been practicing. Holy Smokes tops his previous albums in every way: song structure, lyrics, vocals, musicianship, production, and studio performance magic, an intangible that can’t always be counted upon.
Most of the songs ooze classic rock: a snippet of U2 here, a dash of Pink Floyd there. The Rolling Stones, Grateful Dead, and Rod Stewart surface throughout. Opening track “Hallelujah,” (not the Leonard Cohen song) is reminiscent of his early stuff, particularly with the effects slathered on the vocals. The songs veer effortlessly from rock to gutbucket blues to contemporary pop to alt-country and back without losing authenticity. “Honey Pie” is as infectious as any pop number, while more sophisticated tracks such as “Late Night Special” allow Tyler to show off his ample vocal range and falsetto. This guy can sing, and most of these songs are exclusively about love and relationships, but without being maudlin.
Sometimes fans suffer through an artist’s new material just to hear the old hits they crave. In Tyler’s case, every song on this album will kick ass in a live setting and sound as good as anything he’s done previously. — Jeff Prince
