Published on Apr 6, 2001
Get your beads, Mildred, we’re off to N’awlins for Mardi Gras.
Polish up your yatspeak, relearn your tolerance for Cajun food, and
take your Lactose, because we’re gonna café au lait
ourselves into insensibility. And while you’re at it, fire up the
CD player for Anders Osborne’s new release,
Ash Wednesday Blues, a love letter to and about New
Orleans.
There are certain artists that are, at least to me, immutably
tied up with one city or location. Jimmy Buffett hangs his
parrothead in Key West, Marc Cohn will forever be Memphis for me,
Styx belongs in Chicago, and now Osborne joins the list, tied
forever in my mind to the Crescent City, the French Quarter, New
Orleans. This is not slightly zydecized, sanitized, weakling music,
but (as near as this Northern boy knows) some pretty real stuff.
And you know what? It’s pretty good. (Somewhat surprising, given
Osborne hails from not New Orleans, but Sweden).
Osborne writes his own songs, and plays a pretty mean guitar
too. (Don’t go looking for stinging licks, though; on almost all of
this CD, it’s vocals, drum, and horns that get center stage). His
band is good as well – as mentioned earlier, the percussion is in
many ways what holds the CD together, and Cyril Neville should be
congratulated for a hell of a performance. The guest performances
are a who’s who of young blues artists; Jonny Lang sings background
on several tracks, and Keb’ Mo contributes to two tracks.
Ash Wednesday Blues isn’t just blues, though; at various
points, Osborne flirts with N’awlins jazz, rock, rockabilly,
barrelhouse, Cajun, and balladeering.
Osborne rarely misses on this CD. Highlights include the raucous
“Ho-Di-Ko-Di-Ya-La-Ma-Ma”, which sounds like the background music
for a Storyville madam’s parlor; “Stuck On My Baby”, with its
spare, fine banjo line (played by the aforementioned Keb’ Mo); the
driving blues-rock sound of “Kingdom Come”; and the surprisingly
poignant piano of “Ash Wednesday Blues”.
When there’s a problem, it’s usually related to Osborne’s
vocals. “Every Bit Of Love” is a sweet song, and I suspect there’s
a personal reason it’s on the recording, but Osborne sounds almost
strained on it, reaching for notes. And I just couldn’t warm to the
Jimmy-Buffett-as-lounge-singer “Me And Lola”, finding it unsuited
to Osborne’s voice. Next time, I hope he cuts loose a little more,
because when he’s on, he’s on. He just tried to do a bit much
here.
Go get yourself a case of the
Ash Wednesday Blues. Throw Mildred in the minivan and head
down for some beignets. It’s worth the trip.