Aural Fixations

VARIOUS ARTISTS
Por Vida
(Or)
I know these songs.

I know these songs like I know my breath. Catch me in a quiet environment, and I'm probably whispering lyrics from "The End" ("If rags were riches this would be a throne") or "She Doesn't Live Here Anymore" ("We used to talk about these days/We used to say they'd never happen"). Alejandro Escovedo writes songs about hardships we can barely fathom, even if we experience them ourselves. He writes about lust and love and heritage and history, phrasing his lyrics to speak to the part of you that never quite heals. His music defies genres and refuses to sound dated. (And don't doubt it can happen; how many of you were shocked to discover Nick Drake's "Pink Moon" from the VW commercial is over 30 years old?)

All of this makes him a critics' darling, which, with 50 cents, won't even come close to buying a cup of coffee. His fans are a faithful but unjustly small bunch, and now he's sick, taking a hiatus from music, mostly to gain back some ground on hepatitis C.

So a big group of friends, admirers and combinations thereof recorded two CDs' worth of his songs. They get to take their best stabs at Escovedo's catalog, thus generating some income for him when he's certain to need it.

Now, what do we always say about tribute CDs? All together now: "They're uneven." Even with such good songs, some artists just can't muster the inspiration to do anything creative. The Cowboy Junkies take on "Don't Need You" is stiff, leaden. When is the last time this band did anything interesting anyway? Pete Escovedo and Sheila E. (Alejandro's older brother and niece, respectively) turn "The Ballad of the Sun and the Moon" into a Tom-Tom-Club-meets-Santana chirping pop workout. Kudos for doing something different, but this song deserved better. The Dragons (featuring another Escovedo, younger brother Mario) romp through "Gravity" in rollicking form and all, but it's too similar to the original, complete with kid vocals. Jon Langford and Sally Timms sing "Broken Bottle" against soft acoustic guitar and…thumb piano? It still retains the drunken carnival barker feel of the original, but it's not moving.

Por Vida sprints more often than it falters, though. Lucinda Williams' "Pyramid of Tears" is slack and full of despair. Steve Earle and Restless Kelly erase all dynamics from "Paradise" and instead take it at freeway speed. Perfect. Jennifer Warnes' "Pissed Off 2 a.m." is ethereal, sincere. The song feels natural and alive in her interpretation. John Cale's "She Doesn't Live Here Anymore" takes an appropriately numb angle on a song that can't help but haunt the listener (and the performer, I'd imagine). Los Lonely Boys rip through "Castanets" and you can almost hear them channeling Escovedo channeling Iggy Pop. Peter Case takes a helter skelter swing at "The End" and connects. The band grinds and churns while he barks like John Lennon in walrus mode. Bob Neuwirth does "Rosalie" proud with his stark reading of this dusty love song. Gorgeous. And the man himself appears at the end on "Break This Time," a new song. Hearing Escovedo sound so good is encouraging, especially on a rough rocker (hey Al, some of us still miss Buick MacKane).

As an introduction to Alejandro Escovedo's songs, Por Vida is merely passable; get one of his studio albums if you're curious about him. But if you're a fan already, or the very cool guest list on this CD sounds appealing, snatch it up. There's easily a full CD's worth of good stuff here. You can burn a compilation and play it for your friends. Don't let them wait 30 years to discover Alejandro Escovedo. Brian Briscoe [buy it]