About a year ago, I had the pleasure of hearing a fledgling bluegrass band play live in the comfort of my own home. A large group of my parents’ friends had gathered to celebrate a collective 50th birthday and this private concert was the grand event. My mother had badgered me for weeks to make sure I cleared my schedule to come home to good old Storrs, CT to hear them play. So one Friday night in March I drove through the remnants of a late snowstorm to catch the beginning of the set that took place in my living room.
The group was obviously young but somehow ageless (perhaps because one of them sported an impressive beard that blew away all my preconceived notions of what facial hair should and could be). I watched them as they hauled up a well-used banjo, a mandolin, an enormous bass, some unfamiliar-looking instruments locked away in large trunks, and a saw that wouldn’t make sense until the end of the night. Cords were plugged in. Guitars were tuned in the midst of happy chatter. And suddenly the motely crew of five burst into song and no one in the room stopped dancing until the last chord of the night was played. Much merriment was had and I was completely hooked on a band called Poor Old Shine.
Poor Old Shine was formed on the University of Connecticut Storrs campus when Chris Freeman met banjo and mandolin player Antonio Alcorn and they quite literally booked their first gig by accident. The very earliest origins of Poor Old Shine began when Freeman and Alcorn played an opening show for a friend at Toad’s Place in New Haven. The band expanded to include Max Shakun on guitar and pump organ and Harrison Goodale on bass, as well as the addition of a thumb piano carved out of a gourd grown in their friends’ yard. After recording a mixture of original songs and covers from artists such as Woody Allen live at Infinity Theater in Norfolk, CT, the band had the drive they needed to pursue recording their own album, Poor Old Shine.
While the record definitely holds roots in bluegrass, the band defines itself as a “sing-along” genre group on their Facebook page, showing that the music is meant to be people-centric and easy to identify with, regardless as to whether the audience includes any folk aficionados. There is a certain affinity to the American narrative that holds outposts in the great outdoors and simple living, and more generally the human experience of nostalgia for some long bygone past.
The opening number, “Weeds or Wildflowers” is incredibly cheerful and catchy and combines bluegrass themes with some more modern, indie-folk sounds. The tune is generally upbeat, but the lyrics offer some insight and pose the question: “Will there be weeds or wildflowers when you’re done?” It speaks well to the human anxiety of wondering what type of legacy we will leave behind. Will it be remembered? Will it ever do someone good? Or will it be ripped up by its roots to make room for something else?
The following song, “Footsteps in My Ear” begins with a chord progression that is reminiscent of musicians such as the Avett Brothers and Mumford & Sons. However, where it differs is in its frayed edges and unedited sound. Though this album was recorded in a studio, every song feels as if it is being played live. The lyrics speak of a quiet longing for a love that stays just out of reach: “Maybe you’re the moon on the water / Or maybe you’re the fog in the field. / I reach out to you and you get further away; / Maybe you’re just footsteps in my ear.” The layered harmonies seem as though they could possibly lend themselves to an even more pared down version or a capella rendition (ahem Co Co Beaux?).
The album contains a fairly even mix of upbeat and slower and contemplative numbers. “Punching the Air, “Tear Down the Stage,” and “Right Now” are all foot-tapping songs with a banjo-driven melody and a charming sort of half-twang. While we have passed the days of freight trains going to hell and burning up stages, the imagery their lyrics conjure is very much present in rural American consciousness. Of course there are the slower songs to complement those, such as the haunting “Ghosts Next Door” and the regret of love not given in “Empty Rocking Chair.” While most of the songs use a similar array of instruments, they are used differently in each of them.
Perhaps what is so special about this group is that despite their freshness, each song feels worn in and comfortable. This may be a result of a creative process based upon “trying everyone’s ideas and then agreeing what works and does not work as a group,” as Shakun described it in an electronic interview. They spend a lot of time with each song, but not to the point where it feels over-orchestrated or inauthentic. Their sound is rough and sepia toned, like an old photograph that has been carried through the years. It is innocent and wise, pure in its intention and a hybrid in its actual sound and execution, classic and original, and basically any other paradox one can think of that combines tradition and modern innovation. I want to dance and kind of want to cry and call my family as I listen to the lyrics and am made nostalgic for my not-so-distant hometown and roots in Mansfield.
Poor Old Shine is slowly gaining a following and will continue to tour throughout 2014 in Massachusetts, Maine, New York, Rhode Island, Vermont, Pennsylvania, and even as far as South Carolina and Kansas City, MO. They also took part in a production of Robin Hood done by the American Repertory Theater in Cambridge, MA this past January. The band plans to continue booking gigs and performing for as long as they can, and I hope continue spreading more wildflowers than weeds wherever they go. •
