Fred Eaglesmith and the Flathead Noodlers
Balin
A Major Label
By Al Kunz
 Anybody who's attended more than
a couple of Eaglesmith shows knows the drill. After performing
"Wilder than Her" he tells a story that goes something
like this. "That song was recorded by lesbian folk-singer
Dar Williams. I'd never really thought of myself as a lesbian
songwriter before she recorded it, but then I got the first royalty
check in the mail." At this point the story may seem like
a screening of The Rocky Horror Picture Show as half the
audience joins Eaglesmith saying "and suddenly it was lesbian
song after lesbian song." He continues, explaining that
he'd be writing a song about a "big burly truck driver"
and the truck driver would turn out to be a lesbian and claims
that every song he'd write, no matter how unlikely, would eventually
turn out to be about a lesbian. Last year James King, a former
member of Ralph Stanley's Clinch Mountain Boys, released a disc
with Eaglesmith's "Thirty Years of Farming" as the
title track. King's disc did well on the bluegrass charts and,
based on Balin, it appears that Eaglesmith's songwriting
has suddenly become "bluegrass song after bluegrass song."
Don't be confused by the band name the Flathead Noodlers.
They are essentially the current incarnation of Eaglesmith's
Flying Squirrels (minus drummer Skip Wamsteeker, since drums
don't have a place in bluegrass). Besides his normal guitar Eaglesmith
takes an occasional turn on banjo and Willie P. Bennett provides
his always-impeccable support on mandolin and harmonica. Steel
guitarist Roger Marin switches to acoustic guitar and guitarist
Dan Walsh picks up the dobro to complete the transition from
the Squirrels to the Noodlers. In addition the regular lineup
is augmented by fiddler John P. Allen and Craig Bignell on banjo.
Willie Bennett's mandolin and for several years the far-from-conventional
percussion of Washboard Hank have given much of Eaglesmith's
past music a bluegrassy feel. That bluegrass was one of his musical
touchstones is irrefutable (for example "Carter," the
tribute to Carter Stanley on the 50 Odd Dollars disc).
While Balin is entirely a bluegrass album it turns out
that it isn't as much of a departure from Eaglesmith's norm as
you might think. (If any bluegrass purists take exception to
calling this a bluegrass album they need to get a life, for most
of us it's close enough).
Lyrically Balin is vintage Eaglesmith. Smart lyrics
that at times speak directly and unambiguously to those from
rural backgrounds (the trials of a keeping a family farm alive
in "Baling Again"). Yet Eaglesmith's lyrics still resonate
with those who are generations removed from the farm for what
it says about universal human experience (as in the difficulty
of raising kids, also in "Baling").
As with many great songwriters Eaglesmith's songs have many
layers of meaning. Unlike some Eaglesmith's second layer will
frequently lurk barely beneath the surface, requiring less of
the listener to recognize the depth of the song, yet continued
listening will often reveal still deeper interpretations. In
the acappella opening track, "The Building," Eaglesmith
does this in just twelve lines and less than a minute. Superficially
the opening lines ("You could have worked on the building
/ That I was working on") give the feel of an old time field
holler updated for carpenters instead of cotton pickers. But
by the closing couplet ("But you turned and you ran / And
now the building stands undone") it becomes obvious that
the building is a metaphor for something else, possibly a romantic
relationship (since ultimately that's what most songs are about).
Listen a few more times and the impression that the person the
tune is aimed at has done the narrator wrong decreases. As you
consider possible meanings of lines that wish she'd "tried
a little harder until everyone else was gone" or the suggestion
that she "could have cried by the river" additional
explanations take shape. With a little creative interpretation
and a slightly twisted imagination you might even conclude that
this is a thinly veiled bluegrass murder ballad.
Longtime fans will find Balin replete with Eaglesmith's
normal trains, tractors, and other motorized contraptions as
metaphor ("Small Motors" and "Two Machines"
for two). "John Deere 'B'" tells the story of an old
farmer who's outbid for the tractor he needs to work his farm
by a restaurant that wants it for décor. In "Runaway
Lane" Eaglesmith combines two images, the stereotypical
"lonely" train with that of a trucker who's driving
a dangerous mountain road both literally and (in his romantic
life) figuratively. The conclusion ("Ought to be a run-a-way
lane / when there's no where else to go) applies to both.
Regardless of how different the life of the characters in
Eaglesmith's songs seem from your own you'll still find yourself
saying, "I know just how you feel." We've all had a
string of bad luck like the hobo in "Mary Lane" or
done something to a friend or neighbor we've felt badly about
as in "I Shot Your Dog." Haven't we?
Well, hello neighbor
I've been meaning to talk to you
I been putting it off
It's something I gotta do
I been living with a secret
Been keeping me awake
There's just something I gotta say
Folk and Bluegrass festivals have always played a part in
Eaglesmith's relentless touring schedule. Balin has proven
a hit among the Fredheads (Eaglesmith's large number of loyal
fans) and is bound to draw additional converts from the bluegrass
crowd. Let's just hope that *NSYNC doesn't decide to record one
of Fred's songs. Then it'll be "boy band song after boy
band song."
Visit www.fredeaglesmith.com
Contact Al Kunz at kunz-at-rockzilla.net
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