Portland Oregan based Richmond Fontaine have been belting out their brand of country rock for around 17 years now. Across nine studio albums and underpinned by the song writing of Willy Vlautin they’ve often garnered critical praise but never the commercial success of their contemporaries such as Wilco and even Decemberists.
Despite being entrenched in their own country, evoking landscapes of their native state or Nevada they are perhaps most popular abroad. Part of the reason that their own country hasn’t taken to them in quite the same way could be that they and Vlautin in particular are a little too cerebral. America is a country after all where the book title Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone had to be changed to Sorcerer’s Stone as most Americans don’t know what a philosopher is.
Their tenth studio album The High Country is no less cerebral, and will therefore be no more popular in the US. This time round they’ve tried to create an album as a novel. Charting the tale of a young couple who have an affair in a run down depressed logging town in Oregon.
It’s an interesting concept for an album, especially as Vlautin is a novelist as well. But it has one major drawback. The plot is simply not very interesting. Boy meets girl, boy and girl plot escape from grim town and along the way there’s some bloodshed and tears.
The press release promises “a gothic love story”, but this is not the work of masters of the genre such as Harry Crews and Nick Cave.
As a result the tracks where you can at least forget its part of a turgid story are stronger. Fast paced ‘Lost In The Trees’, is formulaic rock but still a good listen and among the best on the album. It’s the nearest to a Harry Crews moment of passion that this tale of so-called gothic love ever reaches. Among the worst is the poor man’s Wilco ‘The Mechanic’s Life’.
Special mention for sure shoddiness goes to ‘The Mechanic Falls in Love With The Girl’. Starts off pleasant enough with its acoustic guitar. “A half decent instrumental” I think. Then the Phil Spector strings cut in, then worst of all the couple of this tale start speaking. “I can’t just believe you’re here” gasps the young girl, played woodenly by Deborah Kelly. “I wish neither of you were” I think.
While lyrically its pap, musically there are high points but I can’t help thinking that Uncle Tupelo and Wilco did and do this kind of country folk rock so much better. Perhaps Americans aren’t as stupid as I thought. They do after all hand out Grammies to the likes of Wilco rather than Richmond Fontaine.
4.5/10
by Joe Lepper
Related Posts
