Dexter Romweber has become a mainstay in the fight against contemporary musical homogeneity. Many will remember him from his Athens, GA days as part of gemlike roots rockers Flat Duo Jets, but as the title of his latest solo effort makes clear, he’s long since returned to the North Carolinian locale of the Jet’s formation. Carrboro’s loose and comfortable atmosphere underscores its maker as a foremost dealer in the USA’s fathoms-deep cultural heritage, and it’s out on vinyl, compact disc, and digital September 9.
Far too many roots peddlers come on as strapping as an ox, with rough edges suggesting a lengthy conversance with the aural potency of yesteryear. However, after time spent these hawkers are revealed as offering scant substance underneath the grizzled exterior; it’s the difference between copping moves and approximating motions and legitimately channeling the essence of an increasingly distant past.
It shouldn’t be hard to deduce that Dex Romweber falls into the latter category, and anybody familiar with Flat Duo Jets knows his mode of operation; serve up a blend of original tunes and well-chosen covers essaying the intersection of R&R, C&W, R&B, and even occasional dips into zesty crooners and the Great American Songbook, the results fitting for heaving sweaty booze-joints rather than stuffy and immaculate museums.
Some of the hybridization listed above might give the impression of a rockabilly scenario, and that’s not off-base, but it’s important to understand that Romweber has never been afflicted with retro-orthodoxy. That goes for his work with the Jets (who ceased activity in 1999), in Duo with either Crash LaResh or sister Sara on drums, or on his fitfully emerging solo recordings.
Romweber is surely a colorful cat, though he lacks the sheer mania of The Cramps’ late frontman Lux Interior or the panache and eccentricity that summarizes the long tenure of Panther Burns’ leader Tav Falco. Romweber sports a historical knowledge as deep as each as he maintains a level of edge and intensity attractive to folks weaned on punk without ever really tipping over into the style.
The choice of title for this latest album reinforces Romweber as a proponent of regionalism, with a significant portion of his cover choices over the decades derived from noted local scenes. Furthermore, his career has benefited from a similar emphasis on distinct geography; reinforcing this circumstance is a version of “Lonesome Train,” a seldom-heard number Cecelia Batten waxed in 1957 for the Colonial label in neighboring Chapel Hill.
The original is a tasty bit of bluesy Southern pop with some bold guitar strokes; Romweber’s take is rougher and more folky, at once energetic and relaxed, while retaining the catchiness of the source. Taken alone it’s an appealingly minor bit of business, but in tandem with its surroundings it adds to the subtly impressive whole.
Of course, uncovered obscurities aren’t the only attraction; just as alluring is the ability to summon period flavor and sincere warmth. This is most often achieved in an environment sans vocals, with “Midnight at Vic’s” a humid surf excursion complete with gruff sax, and “Out of the Way” a meditative exploration of early ’60s guitar instrumental serenity.
As appropriate for a solo disc, much of Carrboro was cut by Romweber alone, but “Knock Knock (Who’s That Knocking’ On My Coffin Lid Door?)” adds longtime friend Rick Miller (of Southern Culture on the Skids) to the equation, and it’s a prime slice of oddball rockabilly with a mild creature feature theme and spacious production.
The 10-piece Chapel Hill outfit New Romans assists in transforming the Wray-Dale-Eddy base of the instrumental “Nighttide” into a proposition halfway between teen gang strutting music and Theremin-driven soundtrack snippets from a Saturday afternoon Sci-Fi Double Feature. Speaking of celluloid, the song’s title brings to mind Curtis Harrington’s terrifically moody Night Tide; filmed in ’61 and starring a young Dennis Hopper, it’s a flick Romweber assuredly knows, as over the years he’s acquired a bit of a cinephile aura.
“Smile,” a tune Charlie Chaplin wrote for Modern Times in 1936, helps to cement his movie fandom. Interestingly, the lyrics (by John Turner and Geoffrey Parsons) were added later as the song was popularized by Nat King Cole; although his version and Carrboro’s share a keyboard, that’s really where the similarity ends, with the ’54 version’s lush strings thoroughly mainstream and Romweber’s solo piano rumination conjuring images of an all but deserted mid-’60s motel lounge at around two in the morning.
The crisp ’50s-styled country delivery of T-Bone Burnett’s “I Don’t Know” deepens the relationship to movies even more, as it was first performed by Jeff Bridges and Ryan Bingham in the film Crazy Heart. It and the superb opening rendition of Findlay Brown’s “I Had a Dream” make plain that Romweber isn’t stuck in a time warp, and those who value Brown’s composition will not be disappointed by the faithful but distinguished treatment here.
A consistent Romweber characteristic is his love of a great song no matter what corner of the musical landscape produced it; most roots dudes wouldn’t be caught anywhere near a Rodgers and Hart chestnut, but the cool organ-led instrumental reading of “My Funny Valentine” is frankly one of this set’s highlights.
Naturally, the majority of the proceedings fit pretty snuggly into Dex’s well-honed methodology, e.g. “Tomorrow’s Taking My Baby Away,” a cut from deep in Jerry Lee Lewis’ C&W run (the I-40 Country LP, in fact) shorn of its crummy Nashville strings and backing vocals, and a solid rocking of Mahalia Jackson’s brilliant “Trouble of the World,” a song some will remember from the heartbreaking climax to Douglas Sirk’s 1959 masterpiece Imitation of Life. Okay it’s official; Romweber’s a total buff!
The swampy rock of “Where Do You Roam?” and the intimate solo piano blues (and quick fade out) of closer “Tell Me Why I Do” complete the selections with typical aplomb. Having navigated some rough spots over the years, Romweber has largely kept things steady on album, and Carrboro extends the streak quite nicely.
GRADED ON A CURVE:
A-
