Allison Moorer
The Duel
Sugar Hill
By Steve Cooper
 I
haven't heard Allison Moorer's earlier, more radio-friendly albums,
so all I've got to go on is this largely melancholy, plodding,
boo-hoo release. The dawdling tempo throughout makes the Cowboy
Junkies sound like speed freaks. On her small label debut (she
recorded for a major label before), Ms. Moorer is in a dark mood.
Unrelentingly so. Perhaps hand puppets could have cheered her
up.
Even in their indefatigable bleakness, there are lyrical high
points. Moorer can turn a phrase: "Her life only happens
for a song to sing." It's the determined pouting that eventually
sinks this whole affair. Despite the craft, it becomes sophomoric.
Moorer even decides that there is no God: "Believe you
me I want to believe in You". Talk about your ultimate
high school slam book.
The high points are few and far between, but they do exist.
The opening cut, "I Ain't Giving Up on You," evokes
Neil and the Horse, though without Young's dangerous edge and
sense of humor. The instrumental backing is way too close to
"Cowgirl in the Sand" for copyright purposes. Still,
as Neil rips go, this is pretty good. Moorer's husky vocal is
more of a rock-and-roll sneer than a portentous boo-hoo on this
song and the world (portentously boo-hoo as it is) is better
for it.
"One on the House" is a classic-style, country tear-in-the-beer
with some clever lines: (to the bartender) "What I'm going
to ask ya takes a whole lot of gall/Do me a favor and give me
one on the house." Jay Farrar could kill on this song.
Moorer is mopingly effective, with the pedal steel accenting
her "crying time again" vocal.
"When Will You Ever Come Down" has a bit of a shuffle
beat, with a sing-a-long chorus that is morosely fetching. One
can almost envision Moorer dancing in her hair shirt as she sings
it.
The title track is full-on pout. From the opening line ("In
this cemetery mist, stands a newborn atheist") to the last
("The king of kings has lost his crown, it's buried here
in Marbletown, in the godforsaken ground, with my only love"),
it is a teenager's fist-shake at God. Even lyrical excess can
be compelling if the melody carries it; here there is no melody,
just a singer brooding along with the piano. The only melody
at work comes from a harmonica solo about midway in.
"Once Upon a Time She Said" is an excuse for Moorer
to warble grandly and sadly: "A bullet needs a gun/And
in the Land of Plenty, they need a cham-pi-on." Huh? Or
try this: "It's unpopular to be unpopular." It also
hurts to hurt and feels bad to feel bad, but let us be less than
obvious.
Rancor aside, Moorer has talent (and it doesn't hurt her career
that she looks like a Channel model). Her smoky voice is capable
of evoking great emotion if the "weep" is used sparingly
and effectively. Despair, however, does not equal depth. Have
a good cry, Ms. Moorer, before making your next album. Then,
you can mix in the sad ones with the semi-sad ones, the happy
ones with the semi-happy ones. You know, life itself, without
self-pity. And, think up some melodies next time.
Contact Steve Cooper at: cooper-at-rockzilla.net
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