Formed in Louisville, KY, Freakwater span back to the early days of alt-country. Co-headed by guitarist-vocalists Janet Beveridge Bean and Catherine Ann Irwin, the group’s string of albums has helped to raise their genre’s level of quality considerably, and after a decade-long stretch of inactivity they’re back with a new full-length. Featuring longtime cohort David Wayne Gay on bass, Scheherazade finds them reigniting their non-hackneyed approach to roots-infused harmony without a hitch; it’s out February 5 on vinyl, compact disc, and digital via new label Bloodshot Records.
A huge mess of alt-country recordings have been cut, shrink-wrapped, and delivered to the bins since Freakwater issued their self-titled debut in 1989. In fact, the style has been extant long enough that a sizable percentage of its practitioners have fallen victim to the same faults and miscalculations the form was initially attempting to remedy.
Risk averse, excessively calculated, beleaguered by overzealousness of persona, and frequently too damned slick; circa the late ‘80s these problems amongst others proved a nagging burden to the trad country landscape. Of course, the best of the upstart acts on the yet to be named alt-country fringe weren’t overly reactionary in form or content, instead electing to just do their own thing as they accumulated fans and forged relationships with likeminded artists along the way.
Some were punkers who’d gotten energized by a taste of undiluted country glory, while others had grown up with exposure to the music and were moved to carry it forward. Freakwater are roughly in line with the former scenario, Catherine Irwin coming of age in Louisville punk bands to be eventually swayed by the sounds of the Carter Family. Additionally, the group sprang in part from the hard-edged roots-rock of Eleventh Dream Day, a Chicago band formed by Louisville transplants Rick Rizzo and Janet Bean.
Emerging with a Sara and Maybelle Carter-derived template, they blended originals and rich traditional material (“Rank Strangers,” “The Great Titanic,” “Selfishness in Man”) and borrowings from cornerstone figures such as Bill Monroe, The Louvin Brothers, and Merle Travis. Freakwater’s debut and ‘91 follow-up Dancing Under Water plainly drew strength from a position of knowledge.
A surprisingly successful, non-tongue-in-cheek b-side cover of Black Sabbath’s “War Pigs” underscored their freedom from orthodoxy as its counterpart on the ’90 7-inch, the no-nonsense original “Your Goddamn Mouth” illuminated an inclination toward subject matter in sharply contrast to country’s commercial wing.
Freakwater’s reality was and remains a long way from any sort of widespread popularity, though their third LP did give their profile a boost; released in ’93, Feels Like the Third Time commenced a lengthy tenure with Thrill Jockey (the first two were on the Amoeba imprint) and triggered a series of worthwhile records. But over time their output would slow to a trickle; up to the welcome arrival of Scheherazade, 2005’s Thinking of You was their only showing in the 21st century (both Bean and Irwin did release solo albums, however).
Label changes by veteran performers/ bands can sometimes signify a change in direction and/ or a drop-off in quality, but that’s not the case here. Freakwater has simply switched from one Chicago-based enterprise to another; Bean has maintained Windy City residence since the mid-‘80s and continues as part of Eleventh Dream Day.
Bloodshot has served for over two decades as a prime outpost for robust and wide-ranging contempo roots expression, so Freakwater’s label-migration makes total sense. Inspection of Scheherazade’s contents reveals a solid plunge into their working method with nary a speck of rust across 12 sturdy songs, opener “What the People Want” brimming with sharp-edged harmonies promoting an atmosphere of foreboding.
It’s a mood intensified by Irwin’s banjo plucking and accents of gnawing fiddle from Dirty Three’s Warren Ellis, but what remains impressive is a lack of the overbearing in the cultivation of a decidedly Appalachian ambiance. “The Asp and the Albatross” moves into country-rock territory brightened by pedal steel (courtesy of Bean’s Eleventh Dream Day bandmate Jim Elkington), Lowell George-esque slide guitar, and first-rate rhythm work from drummer Neal Argabright and Gay (his association with Freakwater reaching back to the beginning).
But this is all a prelude to Scheherazade’s first standout and arguable highpoint. As underlined by the album’s title and such earlier gems as Feels Like the Third Time’s “My Old Drunk Friend” (which endures as their most well-known tune), Freakwater employ storytelling in their songwriting; setting them apart from the country norm is refreshing candor and in “Bolshevik and Bollweevil” vivid lyrical imagery: “The sky was black like caviar/every little egg was a twinkling star.”
It’s an achingly gorgeous tune climaxing with a burst of harmony capable of inspiring gooseflesh, and following it is a deft shift of gears into the rock-tinged swampiness of “Down Will Come Baby,” complete with raw wah-wah guitar from Evan Patterson. “Falls of Sleep” slows the pace but retains the electric elements, though here the environs are closer to desert-noir as the robust writing steadily unfolds and is highlighted by the power of Irwin and Bean’s intertwining voices.
The pretty Carter-descended “Take Me with You” strips down to vocals and acoustic while simultaneously illuminating their range, and “Velveteen Matador” returns to a country-rock model combining touches of an urban (though still Southern) disposition with tough execution, the amps turned up and pedal steel notably absent. “Skinny Knee Bone” is another showcase in tandem vocal expertise elevated by uncommonly adroit playing, particularly some swell Texas border town guitar.
As a comeback of sorts, Scheherazade doubly benefits from a consistently high standard and a disinclination to play it safe; “Number One with a Bullet” corrals organ, mandola, heavy bow, expert electric licks, and what sounds like upright bass into a vibrant, non-milquetoast Americana whole, the engineering by Kevin Ratterman lending clarity throughout while never erring into excessive polish.
His contribution is especially beneficial to the tonal shifts of “Memory Vendor,” which alternates between a pedal steel-thick crawl slightly reminiscent of later Lambchop and Neil Young-ish string burn. “Missionfield” again scales back to electric guitar and harmonizing, and the outpouring of soulfulness near the end is a terrific touch.
“Ghost Song” broadens the instrumentation once more, navigating another gradual and this time somewhat bluesy pace for Scheherazade’s finale. Freakwater’s return ends not with an exclamation point but with confident resonance hopefully foreshadowing a higher frequency of activity for this frankly irreplaceable group.
GRADED ON A CURVE:
A-
