The Full Time Hobby label’s tribute compilation to the late Tim Hardin collects thirteen acts interpreting the work of an important and too often overlooked American singer-songwriter. In personalizing and modernizing his work, Reason to Believe: the Songs of Tim Hardin has the expected share of successes and failures, but in its diversity it largely misses the sustained qualities that continue to make Hardin such an engaging and accessible cult figure.
Music has a lot of hard luck stories, and the tale of Tim Hardin, a prolific and oft-covered songwriter that was unable to find commercial success through his own acclaimed recordings, certainly qualifies. If a tough narrative, as part of the ‘60s folk boom Hardin’s lack of popular recognition was hardly unique; the same fate befell fellow folkies such as Fred Neil, Phil Ochs, Tim Buckley, and Townes Van Zandt. If his marketplace neglect found him in strong company, Hardin’s end was his own; dead of a heroin overdose in 1980 at age 39.
Long before his demise Hardin had achieved a strong following with discerning listeners, but the closest he ever came to a hit single was in 1969, with the Top 50 appearance of “Simple Song of Freedom,” a tune written for him by Bobby Darin. And it was Darin who took Hardin’s “If I Were a Carpenter” all the way to #8 in 1966, a circumstance that might’ve stung a bit as he landed his biggest seller.
If commercial validation largely eluded him, it wasn’t for want trying, Hardin releasing seven albums in the second half of the ‘60s, five of them through a fruitful contract with Verve Forecast that continues to serve as the strongest part of his enduring reputation. His first two albums, Tim Hardin 1 and Tim Hardin 2, released in ’66 and ’67 respectively, are simply brilliant documents of folk-derived erudition.
In retrospect, the only limitations these albums possessed in garnering larger sales were subtlety and natural sophistication. Unfortunately this hasn’t curbed a faulty theory from creeping up regarding Hardin’s work, specifically that his songs are best heard through the interpretations of others. And there is certainly no lack of versions on the market, his compositions being recorded hundreds of times, Rod Stewart even taking “Reason to Believe” into the charts on two separate occasions.
Obviously not everyone feels that Hardin’s abilities as a performer were eclipsed by his talent as a writer, but choosing to pay tribute to the man through a selection of cover material by contemporary artists can’t help but somewhat reinforce the notion that Hardin’s main significance is as a songsmith and not as a player, with his original LPs (including an underrated stint with Columbia) essentially serving the needs of highly committed buffs.
With this said, there’s no way that the various artists tribute compilation Reason to Believe: the Songs of Tim Hardin isn’t an admirable endeavor. While Hardin is by no means forgotten, the fact does remain that far too few are hip to what he was about, particularly now that the major-label reissue machine has slowed considerably.
Back in ’94 Verve did a nice job of compiling the entirety of his output onto the 2CD set Hang On to a Dream: the Verve Years and a few years later came an incomplete comp of his stuff for Columbia. Knowledge of the man with younger listeners was at an all time high. These days exposure to Hardin’s considerable charms is far more reliant upon word of mouth and the simple curiosity of youth, so the efforts of the small Full Time Hobby label in spreading the word about this extremely worthwhile artist are greatly appreciated.
With this said, Reason to Believe ultimately ranks as a mixed bag, with its blend of great, good, and lesser material falling into line with the vast majority of tribute compilations that have hit the racks over the years, though in its favor none of its 13 cuts sink to the level of outright dogs. Perhaps this is due to a general lack of celebrity contributors from either the pop mainstream or contemporary indie fields electing to drop by and go through the motions.
Yes, Mark Lanegan and Okkervil River are here, but in both cases their inclusion makes clear sense. Lanegan had already covered “Shiloh Town” on his I’ll Take Care of You album, and with a second dip into his songbook it becomes plain that Hardin’s had a substantial impact on the former Screaming Tree. And Okkervil River not only included a version of “Black Sheep Boy” on their third LP, they went as far as naming the record after the song.
So it’s unsurprising that Lanegan’s soulful solo take on “Red Balloon” works so well, perpetrating a mood of slight unease as he nimbly handles the acoustic guitar accompaniment. Likewise, Okkervil River’s treatment of “It’ll Never Happen Again” benefits greatly from an impression of deep familiarity between the source and the interpreters.
While sincerity and legitimate influence is in no way a surefire route to success when paying tribute to a neglected master, it certainly can’t hurt. And while influence isn’t always detectable across Reason to Believe’s duration, a sense of genuine involvement is at least consistently palpable, helping the album to keep its head above water even when the songs themselves aren’t especially inspiring or even very interesting.
The record does start strongly, with Kiwi band The Phoenix Foundation giving “Don’t Make Promises You Can’t Keep” (song #1 from Tim Hardin 1) an infusion of airy, contempo indie lushness. From there, The Sand Band’s alt-countrified run-through of “Reason to Believe” won’t blow many (or even any) minds (bluntly, it pales greatly next to Camper Van Chadbourne’s exquisite reading from twenty odd years ago), but it does stand up okay.
And “Part of the Wind” from UK-outfit Diagrams is a very pleasant surprise, adding a fluttering drift of electronic ambiance to the proceedings, their version possessing sizeable emotional heft. But sadly a dip in quality occurs over the next few cuts. Both The Magnetic North’s “It’s Hard to Believe in Love for Long” and Alela Diane’s “How Can We Hold On to a Dream” take the exceptional originals and turn them into something very average.
Snorri Helgason’s “Misty Roses” fairs better, but like The Sand Band earlier, it’s nothing all that startling. By contrast, Sarabeth Tucek’s moody reduction of “If I Knew” (an interesting choice, derived from Hardin’s second Columbia LP, ‘71’s Bird on a Wire) is intriguing and worthy of further inspection. That it’s followed by Okkervil River’s inspired and inventive highpoint brings Reason to Believe a brief uptick in quality.
Brief because “It’ll Never Happen Again” is followed by a problematic cover of “If I Were a Carpenter” from The Smoke Fairies. To be fair, this particular song has been recorded so many times to wide popularity (in addition to Darin, Johnny and June Carter Cash took it to #1 on the Country chart in 1970) that playing it straight does seem rather redundant. But in revamping it they combine breathy femme vocals with a modern, keyboard-driven sheen, and what shoots for the smoldering and edgy instead delivers an overlong plod that’s high on atmosphere but low on intensity.
Things progress with Gavin Clark giving “Shiloh Town” a solid reading, and Hannah Peel of The Magnetic North goes it alone to better effect on a cover of “Lenny’s Tune,” though the distinctiveness of her voice won’t be to everyone’s liking. Pinkunoizu’s “I Can’t Slow Down” ends the record on a high note, integrating a bold string section that blends Eastern exoticness with flashes of high ‘70s production; it actually sounds like something Hardin might have tried himself if he’d been able to get his life back on track.
So, in a nutshell Reason to Believe: the Songs of Time Hardin shoulders the same trib-comp ups and downs. Individual listeners will obviously hold their own hierarchy of quality. But the peaks and valleys here also register as somewhat distinct. Overall, the record reinforces that the good intentions of various sympathetic artists can’t help but fail in accurately communicating Hardin’s unique stature as a performer.
Perhaps hearing one act exploring material across a full-length release would be more fruitful and beneficial to Hardin’s legacy. For there is a vital consistency on the records that established his reputation, with individual songs gathering strength in relationship to the whole. Yes, that’s generally how great album’s work, but it’s even more true for musicians of this ilk, and it plays a huge part in why he never conquered the singles chart.
In the end it’s all right there in the title. This record celebrates the adaptability of Hardin’s songs, but it actually communicates little of the man’s own musical personality. To get that you’ll have to go back to his records. It’s an oeuvre perpetually waiting for inspection, and the unfamiliar should by all means look into its contents.
GRADED ON A CURVE:
C+
