First let me say that "Beyond the Sun" is a great album by Chris Isaak. And it is great in large part because it is not just "another Chris Isaak album." It is an album devoted to a music he loves, that he has in fact based his entire career on - rockabilly and early rock and roll. But it is also a deliberate departure from the songwriting formula that he has followed, with great success, for his entire professional life. We, and he, are better for the chances he takes here.
Like many reviewers, I am an enthusiastic fan of Chris Isaak. I first heard "Blue Hotel," from the album "Chris Isaak," while driving home from work. I bought the album the next day. I was hooked by the purity of Isaak's voice, his range, and the feeling he conveyed. The amazing guitar work of Calvin Wilsey (now unfortunately long gone from the band) perfectly complemented the brooding voice of Isaak. From the barely contained anger of "You Owe Me Some Kind Of Love," to the mixture of desolation and cynicism of "Lovers Game", Isaak displayed his mastery of a type of singing I thought had disappeared with Orbison and Elvis and Jerry Lee. It was a distinct style. It wasn't "Cathy's Clown" - to take nothing away from the Everly Brothers, or "I'm A Loser" - the Beatles had other ways of singing about broken hearts. And it sure wasn't the Stones or the Who.
The style adopted in "Chris Isaak" and the albums that came before and after it, is one of real teen angst, a style of songwriting that first flowered in rockabilly and the earliest rock and roll. It shows up repeatedly in many of the records by artists associated with Sun Records. These songs weren't just about poor guys who got dumped by their best girl, or were so dizzy over some prom queen that they lost control of their car and flew off the road and up to heaven. The new songs were complex and full of contradiction; at their best they had a depth and expressivenes that knocked the Bobby Rydell's, Bobby Vee's, and Fabian's right out of the box and off the radio. Who wanted to hear "Blue Velvet" when you could listen to "Heartbreak Hotel," "Any Way You Want Me," or "Running Scared"? Those songs convinced you with their lyrics and their passionate singing that their protagonists were as confused, co-dependent, and self-pitying as you and the guy who sat next to you in homeroom were. Those songs said no one has ever felt as bad as I do. They were self-absorbed, like most real adolescents are, and they didn't pretend to have all the answers. Even hard-boiled rockers like "Great Balls of Fire" were light years away from "Go Away, Little Girl." The first lines say it all - "You shake my nerves and you rattle my brain, too much love drives a man insane, you broke my will, what a thrill, goodness gracious, great balls of fire!" That's pretty powerful stuff, even without the not-so-subtle innuendo of the title.
Chris Isaak's genius has always been in his ability to capture that sound - the wailing pain and intensity that were so much a part of the birth of rock and roll. On album after album, he never fails to concoct convincing variations on his introspective "forever blue" rock persona. I remember a joke he told about himself between songs at a show - he's standing outside the venue between sets, and a man walking by stops, looks at him closely, then says "Hey, aren't you the guy who sings all those `sissy' songs?" Isaak replies, after a beat, "they're not sissy, they're sensitive."
Issak has the retro, sensitive "blue" rockabilly song down pat, from "Wicked Game" to "Funeral in the Rain" to "Speak of the Devil." Even a "light" tune like "Don't Leave Me On My Own," with its gently rolling rhythm and up-beat hooky melody is not immune - if the girl who ditched him will come back, "I'll fix the place up." Offering to clean his apartment in a pathetic attempt to win back his girl.
It is precisely because "Beyond the Sun" is filled with songs that are rockabilly classics but aren't classic "Chris Isaak" songs, that this record so satisfying. Several reviewers have noted that he is at his best on this album singing lesser-known tunes, particularly rave-ups like "Miss Pearl" or "Dixie Fried." I think that's because those songs are the ones that take him farthest away from his own songwriting style. They are songs that he obviously loves, but generally doesn't attempt. They come out sounding fresh, energized, and rocking.
Isaak also says in the liner notes that he tried to stay away from rote "covers" of the iconic tunes that everyone knows. And that approach generally works. On "It's Now or Never," Elvis' great homage to Mario Lanza, Isaak doesn't try to out-bombast the King. He pulls back a little, and his version of the song shines a new light on an old chestnut without being self-consciously different.
We can thank Chris Isaak for loving a music that was "uncool," so much so that he has devoted his career to it and written a great many songs that are very cool along the way. And we can thank him for taking a deliberate step away from the relative comfort of his own particular songwriting style this time around and giving us an album devoted to exploring some of the other styles that make up what we call early rock and roll, or rockabilly. Highly recommended.