Texas Outlaws / Lonesome, On'ry and Mean: A Tribute to Waylon Jennings
Texas Platters
Reviewed by Christopher Gray, Fri., May 9, 2003
Texas Outlaws
(Compadre)Lonesome, On'ry and Mean: A Tribute to Waylon Jennings
(Dualtone) As the only real outlaws music has seen in the past 10 years are probably Napster nerds, Waylon Jennings, who passed last February at age 64, sure picked a sorry time to check out. Hip-hop has turned hard living (and living hard) into press-kit fodder, while the stubble-chinned fusion of country chords and rock edge that Jennings perfected has been hopelessly diluted by the Kenny Chesney pretty-boy brigade. Back here on the South 40, next-gen mavericks such as Pat Green, Kevin Fowler, Owen Temple, and Cooder Graw have always seemed too clean-cut and happy-go-lucky to ever stir up any really serious shit. They sure do respect their elders, though. Houston label Compadre's Texas Outlaws compilation offers a supersized assortment of young guns and old warhorses, covers and originals: everything from Roger Creager rockin' through "Guitar Town" and Townes Van Zandt doing "Pancho and Lefty" live to Willie Nelson's rap debut, "Back on the Road," an update of "On the Road Again" with Elgin baller Lil' Black that's more novelty than history. Cory Morrow's "The Preacher" would be a nice theme if they ever make the apocalyptic comic book into a TV series, as Green, Fowler, and Temple do Texas justice to "Me & Billy the Kid," "I'm the Only Hell (Momma Ever Raised)," and "Lost Highway," respectively. Robert Earl Keen's "Whenever Kindness Fails" and Ray Wylie Hubbard's "Dust of the Chase" contain a shifty, bullet-riddled evocativeness triter efforts from Chris Wall ("Cowboy Nation") and Reckless Kelly ("Rodeo Man") lack. Ol' Waylon, meanwhile, gets his due from Jack Ingram and Cooder Graw, whose "Only Daddy That'll Walk the Line" and "Ain't Livin' Long Like This" have hell-bent-for-leather twang to spare. By contrast, Dualtone's Jennings tribute, Lonesome, On'ry and Mean, is moodier and more subdued, at least until Henry Rollins pulls a Horton Heat on the closing title cut. Norah Jones' "Wurlitzer Prize" and Nanci Griffith's "You Asked Me To" shine the Littlefield-born outlaw to a pretty pop sheen, and the oh-so-appropriate pairing of Carlene Carter and "I've Always Been Crazy" results in a matter-of-fact, bluesy lark. Unfortunately, most everyone else, Dave Alvin, John Doe, Kris Kristofferson, and Alejandro Escovedo, focuses on Jennings the cowboy poet at the expense of Jennings the pistol-packing honky-tonk brigand. It's hard not to miss Kid Rock or Hank Williams III, and it's really too bad neither album could rope in arguably the biggest outlaws of all right now: the Dixie Chicks.(Texas Outlaws)
(Lonesome, On'ry and Mean)