It’s a sad state of affairs when most people wouldn’t touch anything “country” with a twenty-foot pole. Maybe it’s a general, deep-seated dislike of mandolin and pedal steel.
I myself blame Nashville and the rise of processed, soulless good-old-boy garbage that continues to define the Clear Channel country stations that you struggle to maneuver around on long car rides.
Granted I’ve never sung the praises of Billy Ray Cyrus (or his daughter Miley), country music has managed to stay relevant, particularly in it’s American country rock and alternative country permutations. In this case, Danny Wilson and his cohorts have transplanted Southern California circa 1972 to present-day South England, though the geographic shift is neither apparent nor terribly important. Somewhere between Neil Young and The Flying Burrito Brothers, Streets of Our Time showcases the band recreating a sound to which many contemporary groups have given only an occasional, self-conscious nod.
With Streets of Our Time, familiarity is the strongest weapon. The harmonies on “Restless Feet” quote Crosby, Stills and Nash’s aesthetic, and there’s something of Wilco in “Your People.” Still, this is far more than rote posing, as Wilson’s expressive songwriting and the band’s collective chops somehow add up to more than the sum of their parts.
Streets of Our Time isn’t about to replace Young’s Harvest in your rotation, but it does provide one of those rare listening experiences where musical past and present meet halfway and have a laugh about all the good times they’ve had together over the years.
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Ryan Adams & The Cardinals: Jacksonville City Nights
4/5
