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![]() The No Depression Show Is A Little Bit Country, A Little Bit Rock And Roll. By Brendan Doherty IF RHETT MILLER of the Old 97s had his way, he'd probably end up alone. Miller is the "auteur of alt.country," a revival of Gram Parsons and Hank Williams' tragic and magnetic Icarus burn. Country music is for squares and for losers. Failure and longing make for better country songs, and Miller sings purdy songs about misery, women on Rohypnol, and loss to a shuffling backbeat as old as the hills.
The Old 97s are not only Waylon Jennings' favorite new band (they recorded "The Other Shoe," a duet, this spring), they are the best bet to bridge the gap between tired alternative music and upstart roots rock. While Hank Williams drank his booze from a broken bottle, Miller likes his mixed with Slurpee. Their newest yet-to-be named record is nearly in the can. "We needed a guy who could make us sound like a rock band," says Rhett Miller, singer. "We don't need help sounding like we're from Texas." Mixed and finished for Elektra, and produced by Wally Gagel (of the Deluxx Folk Implosion), the new record is the band's first in two years.
Whiskeytown, Slobberbone, Bottle Rockets, Jimmie Dale Gilmore, Hazeldine, Wilco and Son Volt are all being embraced by No Depression. The twangland fanzine's manifesto, declared in its first issue, put it plainly: "We declare that there is such a thing as alternative country music. We claim the forgotten legends of the country genre as our spiritual ancestors, and Gram Parsons as our unholy ghost, minister to the shotgun wedding of country music and rock and roll."
Whiskeytown is far closer to Jason and the Scorcher's wild western twang, Rank and File, X, or the hard-edged biker southern rock of Steve Earle. They cover Richard Hell and the Voidoids songs. They, like Wilco, Son Volt, or Colorado's 16 Horsepower, come to acoustic guitars and winsome ballads after having dug their way out from the prison of punk. They still know how to hide a musical shiv from the guards, and their guns are sometimes carved out of soap. None of them are above pulling punches, distracting with squalls of feedback, or sounding dirty. Rounding out the solid lineup of bands are Albuquerque's Hazeldine, who breathe high-desert wind underneath the lilting harmonies of Shawn Barton and Tonya Lamm. Drummer Jefferey Richards is best known for his work with Vic Chesnutt on "West of Rome." Transfixing and intense, their dark, wine-soaked ballads and lock-tite harmonies are addictive. A recently finished self-produced first LP is currently being shopped around, and will be distributed in Europe through Glitterhouse. Tracks can be found on Bloodshot's "Boone County" sampler. Hazeldine all met at a hippie grocery store, but play like they were born in the clubs, and reveal more at a waltzed crawl than a hundred bands hide at breakneck speed. No Depression recently made the jump from electronic (www.nodepresion.net) to print media. Inside the mag's bimonthly realm are bands and reviews, of course, but also an ad for an all-musician, alt.country cookbook. The record industry, noting the flagging sales of alternative bands, are willing to pick up on any grouping that looks like it might translate into sales. Particularly lucrative are bands that might sell well to two segments that buy lots of records: country and rock. Sitting in the LA office of A&M Records, mixing down "Four Leaf Clover" (a duet with Exene Cervenca for the new, unnamed record for Elektra) in his white El Scorcho T-shirt, chinos, and the first new pair of shoes he's bought since high school, Rhett Miller smiles. Their new record is going to be good. "We've given up our whole lives on the slim chance that this will work out, but the other day I saw a dating game, and the one thing that the cute girl said is that she liked everything except country music."
The Old 97s, The Pickets, Whiskeytown and Hazeldine
perform at 9 p.m. Friday, March 21, at the Rialto Cabaret, 201
E. Broadway. Tickets are $7. For more information, call 740-0126.
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