Aural Fixations
OTIS TAYLOR
Below the Fold
(Telarc)
For the past few years, Otis Taylor has specialized in updating and refurbishing the country blues. While purists might argue that the blues doesn't need any facelifts, that doesn't mean that a visionary artist like Taylor shouldn't be celebrated. (And indeed he has been, as his multiple W.C. Handy and Living Blues nominations and awards attest.) Taylor's use of alternative instrumentation like banjo, mandolin and cello, droning melodies that owe as much to African music as country blues and a resolute social conscience put his music beyond most contemporary practitioners. None of these things are new to the blues, of course (well, except maybe the cello). But a lot of traditional elements have been lost in the drive for more guitar solos, bar-friendly showpieces and record sales, and it's nice to hear someone bring them back—especially when he uses the old building blocks to construct new sounds.
Strangely, Taylor's last album, the self-produced effort Double V, found the singer/songwriter in something of a rut, as if he'd taken his sound as far as it could go. I don't know what happened between then and now, but Below the Fold is definitely a revitalization. Once again producing himself, Taylor mixes some new ingredients into his usual batter: fiddle, trumpet, organ and, for the first time, drums join the guitars, banjo, bass, mandolin and cello in the bowl. The record also debuts new lead guitarist Futoshi Morioka, whose clean, sparse style is in almost direct contrast to former picker Eddie Turner's psychedelic spaciness. You'd think all this extra instrumentation would lead to a more lush sound here, but in fact, it simply adds to the intensity. The strings and organ build up the drone in "Your Children Sleep Good Tonight," an account of the Ludlow Massacre in 1914 Colorado, while the drums and strings lend extra weight to "Didn't Know Much About Education" and the fortitudinous "Feel Like Lightning." Jazz man Ron Miles' trumpet gives counterpoint to the deceptively jaunty "Right Side of Heaven" and "Boy Plays Mandolin," as if finding the black cloud in the silver lining of even the happy memories of the latter.
To say that Taylor's artistic outlook still hasn't ventured over to the bright side is an understatement. "Government Lied" wearily takes the U.S. government to task for its WWII role in covering the deaths of black soldiers at German hands, its circular riff looking for hope in a hopeless situation. "Hookers in the Street" finds a lonely man pondering his ill treatment of his dead wife, the Ali Farka Toure-like arrangement lending him no forgiveness. Even "Went to Hermes," with its exhortations of "What a wonderful day," belies its life-is-beautiful message with a minor key melody. Like all of Taylor's records, Below the Fold isn't the album to put in the stereo during a party.
Having said that, though, Taylor isn't a complete downer. That is, it's not his mission to ruin anyone's good mood. He's simply pointing out injustices where he sees them, whether in the treatment of blacks by a white government or of a woman by her thoughtless man. He genuinely believes that confronting problems head on is more effective than lamenting them and sweeping them under the rug of history. It also makes for undeniably compelling music, and, above all else, Below the Fold is that. Michael Toland [buy it]
