Published on Aug 8, 2000
Dave Alvin knew he had a hard road ahead of him. He was just one
year removed from his spectacular release
Blackjack David, which I named as the best album of 1998.
Expectations from many people, not just this critic, were going to
be high when it came time for Alvin to release his next work.
So, instead of following in the exact same path he did on
Blackjack David, Alvin chose instead to turn to the musical
leagcy he grew up with, and selected a series of songs that are the
basis of folk music. And while that album,
Public Domain, has some stellar moments that prove Alvin
could well be one of the unheralded geniuses of folk music today,
it does sometimes capture the weakness of dipping that far back
into the family tree. And while it’s still a very enjoyable disc,
it does pale a bit in comparison to
Blackjack David.
Almost every song you’ll hear on this disc (including the
unlisted bonus track – kudos to Alvin for doing it right, by having
the song kick in within five seconds of the “end” of the disc) are,
as the title suggests, in the public domain. Chances are a lot of
the material will be new to you, even if you’ve followed folk music
for some time. Chances are also that you’ll find a large chunk of
the material to be quite enjoyable, as Alvin puts his signature on
each song without destroying or changing their basic structure.
In a sense,
Public Domain is going to be an album that speaks to your
own personal tastes, and the tracks I happened to like might not
fit in with your personal musical style. That’s also a limiting
factor of the album; while there’s something here to please
everyone, you won’t necessarily like everything on the album. And,
I would guess, that’s perfectly all right in Alvin’s mind, so long
as he introduces people to this musical heritage.
I can’t help but smile when I hear songs like “Shenandoah,”
“Engine 143” (which reminds me a lot of the story of Casey Jones),
“Murder Of The Lawson Family” and “Texas Rangers,” even if the
stories that are told in the songs aren’t necessarily the happiest
things one could hear. In turn, I can’t say I was particularly
enamored with cuts like “Mama, Ain’t Long For Day,” “Walk Right In”
(which was a hit for The Rooftop Singers in 1963) or “Delia” –
which reminds me a lot of Johnny Cash’s turn on the events,
“Delia’s Gone”. But what could be the nicest compliment I could pay
to Alvin is this: when the day comes that Cash no longer wishes to
or is able to tour, Alvin could well be his successor.
By no means is
Public Domain a disappointment; following up
Blackjack David was an almost impossible feat. But one has
to admire that Alvin chose a more dangerous musical path on
Public Domain, and followed his heart instead of popular
tastes or opinion. And for that alone, we should all be
grateful.