Aural Fixations

JOHN HIATT
Beneath This Gruff Exterior
(New West)
VARIOUS ARTISTS
It'll Come to You: The Songs of John Hiatt
(Vanguard)
The Indiana-bred, Nashville-based John Hiatt is one of the greats of American songwriting, even if few know his name. Few members of the Great Wad, that is—plenty of folks in the music business itself have his number on their speed dial. Artists as diverse as Bonnie Raitt, Earl Thomas Conley, Bob Dylan and (gulp) Paula Abdul have scored hits or placed album cuts with Hiatt tunes over the years; even long gone pop combo Three Dog Night hit the top 40 with one of his pieces, the sardonic "Sure As I'm Sittin' Here," way back in the early 70s. But, as is often the case in these things, Hiatt has yet to find popular success under his own name, despite a string of good-to-great records. Landmarks like Slug Line (1979), Slow Turning (1988), Stolen Moments (1990), Perfectly Good Guitar (1993), Crossing Muddy Waters (2000) and his masterpiece Bring the Family (1987) contain piles of great songs and performances. The combination of a batch of strong material and a sympathetic producer, which Hiatt has more often than not been blessed with, makes for some of the best music ever to be classified as "singer/songwriter," a balance of intelligence and sentimentality, wit and plain speaking, grit and smoothness that's rarely been equaled. These qualities make his record fodder for other singers, if not for the charts, which is enough to make Hiatt a nice living without making him a household name. No matter; he continues creating his music for a variety of record companies, and folks keep recording his songs. Two recent releases with his name on them spotlight both sides of the John Hiatt coin.

Beneath This Gruff Exterior, which gives equal billing to his backup band the Goners (featuring slide guitarist extraordinaire Sonny Landreth), is the closest thing to a party album Hiatt is likely to record. Hiatt has never been afraid of smiling on his albums, and this one, lightly produced by Don Smith, has more open grins than usual. It commences with the upbeat "Uncommon Connection," a bouncy show of optimism that unfortunately contains the dubious couplet "Well I do my best thinking sitting on my ass/Sittin' here waitin' for things to pass." (For all his lyrical grace, even Hiatt succumbs to his lower impulses on occasion.) His sunny growl and Landreth's gnarly bottleneck nearly save it from the libretto's excess, but not quite. Equally lightweight but not nearly as eyerolling is "How Bad's the Coffee," a jumpin' tribute to diner waitresses everywhere, especially those that call you "hon." "My Dog and Me" nearly drowns in its own sap, but has a pretty melody, while "My Baby Blue" is a wistful reminiscence of lost youth, put to one of his rare pop tunes. Even the wry "Almost Fed Up With the Blues," despite its title, shakes its fist in the face of adversity, as Hiatt duets with Landreth's guitar in denying the blues an unshakable hold on his psyche. These songs are the sound of an old fart kicking the blanket off his feet and replacing his easy chair with a six-string, ready to prove to the world his blood is still pumping.

As fun as most of the happy songs are, however, it wouldn't really be a Hiatt record without a bunch of sad ones to balance out the sunshine. "Window On the World" is one of the best, a gently melancholy, midtempo charmer that has Hiatt comparing what he sees outside his hotel or airplane portal to what he's missing at home. "Fly Back Home" puts environmental concerns to a rollicking shuffle with little hope—"I wish we both could fly back home/But we can't so I guess I'll just fly away." "The Last Time" and "The Most Unoriginal Sin" (first recorded by Willie Nelson a decade ago!) both shake their heads at infidelity and its consequences, though from two different points of view. "The Nagging Dark" ironically combines one of Hiatt's catchiest choruses with lyrics about the constant battle with depression, while "Missing Pieces" takes a well-worn image and uses it in expression of profound loss. The tears wrestle with the smiles and, as is usual for a strong Hiatt album, come to a draw—just like real life, a condition with which Hiatt's music is intimately familiar on Beneath This Gruff Exterior. (more)

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