Saturday, December 9, 2023

The 1980 Listening Post - Carlene Carter - Musical Shapes

 Reviewed by Paul J Zickler

Released: August 1 1980 Carlene Carter Musical Shapes Genre: Rockpile Country Rating: 3.75 out of 5 Highlights: Baby Ride Easy Foggy Mountain Top The Very First Kiss To Drunk (Too Remember) Yup. Carlene Carter is Johnny Cash’s step daughter, offspring of country royalty The Carter Family, specifically Ms. June Carter and her first husband, some other guy. In 1979, Carlene married Nick Lowe. I still can’t get over the image of the Basher hanging out at the House of Cash, shooting the breeze with the Man in Black. Sadly, the marriage didn’t last, but they did stick together long enough to make this record, Musical Shapes. Right out of the gate, you know it's a Nick Lowe joint. Cry has a title that sounds suspiciously like one of Johnny’s early hits, and the arrangement and production are straight outta Rockpile. Billy Bremner and Dave Edmunds even chime in with some tasty guitar licks as Terry Williams pounds away on the skins and Lowe thumps along on bass. So far so good. Unfortunately, things take a slightly ominous turn with track 2, Madness. Squenched up drums, too much bass in the foreground, unnecessarily reverbed-up solo dropped in the middle with no connection to the song, which, by the way, is kind of awful. Moving on. Baby Ride Easy was the single. It’s got a nice, Sweethearts of the Rodeo vibe. Dave Edmunds duets with Ms. Carter, matching her twang for twang. “If your lovin’ is good, and your cookin’ ain’t greasy, we’ll chuck the chuckwagon and we’ll ride away.” Sure, it’s hokey as hell, but that’s the idea. Maybe not the perfect country radio song for 1980, but it has a timeless, silly charm. Bandit of Love is an upbeat country waltz about a foolhardy outlaw, a hell-raisin’ angel who cannot be trusted with love. It’s interesting for me to contrast this with what Rosanne Cash was doing in 1980. Not sure whether Carlene was just more in love with her heritage or less in tune with the times. On that note, I”m So Cool pushes the beat a bit more, going almost full Rockpile. The song has a slightly off kilter vibe though, as if the band laid down a track that was a little different than what Carlene was singing to, if that makes sense. Plus “They’re only jealous cuz I’m so cool” doesn’t quite resonate with Carter singing it. Appalachian Eyes brings in a slightly more contemporary sound and some nice harmonies, albeit presumably overdubbed by Carlene herself. Feels like they could’ve brought in somebody else? Was Emmylou busy? The first of two covers, Ring of Fire, tragically substitutes synths for mariachi trumpets, pushes the beat to near-disco on the verses, then tries to drag it back to Tennessee on the chorus. Not sure what June and Johnny thought of it, but for me it’s kind of a mess. And Nick Lowe’s bass is once again the loudest thing in the mix. I’m starting to get why their marriage fell apart. I guess it’s inevitable that every living songwriter was influenced at least a little by Springsteen in 1980, and Carlene is not immune. Too Bad About Sandy apes the Boss in strumming style, subject matter, and lyrics. I mean, it’s OK, but it’s not Bruce. Cover number two is a Carter Family chestnut, Foggy Mountain Top, played much more traditionally, although the tradition here is the Chet Atkins Nashville Cats sound. Luckily, Nick knows how to pull this off, and Carlene seems to genuinely enjoy singing a song her grandma wrote. This one’s actually pretty fun. That Very First Kiss puts us back in Lowe/Edmunds/Bremner/Williams territory. As someone who gave Rockpile’s only LP a 5 star review, you know I’m digging this one. Fun, upbeat, countryfied without being cheesy. Good stuff. Can you really call an album country if it doesn’t include a song about drinking and finding “strange shoes in the hall?” To Drunk (Too Remember) features some Hammond organ to very good effect. The drumming may be a bit more slam slam crash than what the folks on Music Row would approve of, but then again, it is a song about being drunk, right? Carlene throws in a spoken verse that I chuckled out loud at. The whole thing is a hoot, certified. The album closes with Too Proud, another obligatory country move, namely the *serious ballad* where the singer bares her soul and leaves the listener weeping. Well, OK, maybe not weeping in this case, but at least nodding my head as I try to keep track of tropes: swelling synth strings, choral backup, extended emotional guitar solo, drums drop out as the last verse slows to a crawl, whole thing builds to a mighty crescendo coming into the final chorus, then drops to a whisper as the singer’s voice cracks, and we’re out. To sum up, Musical Shapes tries to be simultaneously a Rockpile record, an ode to the family name(s), a hoedown, a modern country album, and a potential crossover hit. It’s entirely too much for the 25 year old, who’s only making her second full length after all. But it has enough enjoyable moments to qualify as a diamond in the rough of the early ’80’s Nashville scene.

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