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Old 97s, "Drag It Up"
New West
At its simplest, this album proves yet again what exactly is wrong withthe major record label system: they don't know what to do with goodtalent, and they relentlessly promote the mediocre variety. Old 97swere the darlings of the indie rock scene, releasing one album on theirown and another for Bloodshot Records, throwing out their own brand ofpunkified countryness with a classic Old West feel. They wereeventually snatched up by Elektra, where they released three morerecords, every one an attempt by the band and the label — more thelatter than the former, I'd wager — to get that one true hit, makingthe songs poppier and poppier as they went along. They did pretty well,but their albums never really hit the big time, and eventually labeland band parted ways. This obviously triggered a return to the DIYmoments of their past, as their first album for their new label is atrue awakening of potential, and a bold statement about where a bandcan go on their own if they're not prodded and poked. Old 97s of oldhad fire and spunk, but still held on to their roots, maintaining aflavor and sound that was decidedly uncommercial, as it was unsurewhere they fit in. That feel, that classic "we don't know if this isgoing to work" vibe, is all over these songs, and the band sound betterthan ever. This is wholesale rejuvenation, with every band memberpulling out their very best, and letting the true directions of theband set in. Drag It Upwas recorded on eight tracks, and most vocals recorded in one room withone microphone. It sounds dirty, uneven, and like the band wanted totake chances. The record features guitarist Ken Bethea's first stab atlead vocals on "Coahuila," and while not a brilliant first effort, thetrack has the most energy of any on the record. Bassist Murry Hammondsings a few tracks, as usual, and as usual I'm not real fond of thosesongs, though they are still great slices of storytelling. When allpieces fall into place, it's like all the stars aligned and the trueshape of the constellation can be revealed. Rhett Miller's clean wailis better than ever on songs like "Bloomington" and "The New Kid," andhe even warbles here and there, letting the little imperfections makeit all better. What it all adds up to is that five albums along Old 97sare experiencing a rebirth, and the sky's the limit.
At its simplest, this album proves yet again what exactly is wrong withthe major record label system: they don't know what to do with goodtalent, and they relentlessly promote the mediocre variety. Old 97swere the darlings of the indie rock scene, releasing one album on theirown and another for Bloodshot Records, throwing out their own brand ofpunkified countryness with a classic Old West feel. They wereeventually snatched up by Elektra, where they released three morerecords, every one an attempt by the band and the label — more thelatter than the former, I'd wager — to get that one true hit, makingthe songs poppier and poppier as they went along. They did pretty well,but their albums never really hit the big time, and eventually labeland band parted ways. This obviously triggered a return to the DIYmoments of their past, as their first album for their new label is atrue awakening of potential, and a bold statement about where a bandcan go on their own if they're not prodded and poked. Old 97s of oldhad fire and spunk, but still held on to their roots, maintaining aflavor and sound that was decidedly uncommercial, as it was unsurewhere they fit in. That feel, that classic "we don't know if this isgoing to work" vibe, is all over these songs, and the band sound betterthan ever. This is wholesale rejuvenation, with every band memberpulling out their very best, and letting the true directions of theband set in. Drag It Upwas recorded on eight tracks, and most vocals recorded in one room withone microphone. It sounds dirty, uneven, and like the band wanted totake chances. The record features guitarist Ken Bethea's first stab atlead vocals on "Coahuila," and while not a brilliant first effort, thetrack has the most energy of any on the record. Bassist Murry Hammondsings a few tracks, as usual, and as usual I'm not real fond of thosesongs, though they are still great slices of storytelling. When allpieces fall into place, it's like all the stars aligned and the trueshape of the constellation can be revealed. Rhett Miller's clean wailis better than ever on songs like "Bloomington" and "The New Kid," andhe even warbles here and there, letting the little imperfections makeit all better. What it all adds up to is that five albums along Old 97sare experiencing a rebirth, and the sky's the limit.
