Howe Gelb – Upside Down Home
Well what a long and illustrious history this gentleman has. The word prolific would be something of a comical understatement – only the Magnetic Fields’ Stephin Merritt really springs to mind as a comparison. If you add up the work he has released as part of Giant Sand, The Band of Blacky Ranchette, Arizona Amp & Alternator and under his own name then the sheer volume is quite intimidating.
Something of a neophyte, I only discovered Howe Gelb for the first time in 2001, with the release of the distracted, superb Confluence. When releasing under his own name, Howe plays a sort of meandering blues that seems to absent-mindedly wander its way through songs to the extent that it can really seem like he loses his train of thought on occasion, stumbles bit, remembers what he was doing and then carries unhurriedly onwards. It sounds half-arsed, but it’s not. What it does do is completely remove the barrier between the musician and the listener; it gives you the impression, almost, that you are the first person ever to have heard the song.
Having released Confluence, then the scratchy, even less focussed The Listener back in 2003 Mr Gelb did some Giant Sand things before dropping the entirely unprecedented blues-gospel classic Sno Angel Like You on an unsuspecting public in 2006. Presumably through the enforced discipline of having to incorporate a gospel choir, this album was much tighter, more disciplined and less ramshackle than previous stuff. Also, it was bloody gorgeous.
Almost, it seems to the casual observer, as a reaction against the size and ambition of Sno Angel, Gelb has now gone and reverted to his low-fi, casual best with a self-released record of largely acoustic folk-blues. In the context of recent Giant Sand and Howe Gelb releases this really does seem like a reactionary approach. It comes across like he is through fucking about with studios, arrangements, technology and, for the large part, even other musicians.
He still writes an impressionistic, ominous and slightly spooky song though and the dusty atmosphere of this album might be what I like best about it. As per classic Gelb, it trips and wanders its way through a dusty Southern landscape, one not quite as Mariachi as Calexico, nor as motelesque as Richmond Fontaine, nor as literary as Smog, but in some way reminiscent of each. His themes can be quite profound, but still tend to be dressed up either in oblique parable or impressionistic imagery, which only heightens the slightly otherworldly atmosphere that the music itself creates.
This album is less catchy in many ways than earlier stuff, but it’s not one to dance to. This is one to take some time with and allow to sink in at its own pace – in my case over a glass of decent red of a fast-shortening Edinburgh Autumn evening.
Howe Gelb -Â Four Door Maverick
Howe Gelb – The Hangin’ Judge
I’ve been listening to Howe/GS/OP8/Blackie/AAA since 1989 and he gets ever more subtle, which at times drives me nuts since I love the explosive power embedded in 1994′s Glum and other work of that era. At the same time, the key to Howe is that — as the review above points out — he is to pop music what the Slow Food Movement is to fast food… you have to take the kind of time he take producing the music to listen to it, savor it, and it is often best to do so with friends (as he does). Anyone looking to get started might want to look at Chore of Enchantment first, then Glum, then the OP8 album or the 80s collection, Giant Sandwich, and then the tribute to Rainer Ptacek, Inner Flame — if those tweak your interest, just go hog wild.
A serious fan living in the not-at-all-wilds of Mid-Michigan, USA
This is very nicely put: “you have to take the kind of time he take producing the music to listen to it”.
I loved Sno Angel too, but anyone starting with that is likely to get a false impression. Chore of Enchantment is fantastic, but I was shocked when I saw the sheer length of his discography.