Customer Reviews

December's Child

5 star:		(1)
4 star:		(3)
3 star:		(1)
2 star:		(0)
1 star:		(1)

 

 

My Own Jo Ellen, Olson's previous release, was a five-star CD in my book and it was on my best of the year list, as well. December's Child treads the same turf but with less successful results. Not to say this is a bad release. It's not, but lacks the some of the innocent charm of 'Jo Ellen.'

Alta's Song, December's Child, Nerstrand Woods, Climb These Steps, and How Can This Be? are wonderful songs--good feelings abound. I can appreciate the Carter family-styled Cactus Wren, but to be honest I usually skip this track. The inclusion of One Eyed Black Dog Moses--which the band usually closes their live performances with--seems unnecessary and plods along compared to the other songs. Say You'll Be Mine--the ballyhooed collaboration with Gary Louris--is a nice respite from the lo-fi proceedings.

With each release I grow to appreciate Olson's skill as a songwriter. I can't imagine any other performer penning a song as personal and affirming as How Can This Be. More good news--fiddler Mike Russell has a big role here. Let's hope he tours with the 'Dippers this time around.

Victoria Williams, whose spirit and nature jumped out of My Own Jo Ellen on practically every groove even though her involvement was minimal, is not nearly as visible here. This is a Mark Olson CD, not an Olson/Williams CD.

I will keep this review short. I love this disc. In fact, I have enjoyed all of Mark Olson releases, back to the Jayhawks, but I find myself playing this album more than any other of his great career. Say you'll be Mine is my personal highlight of the many great songs here.

. . . then you will indubitably like this record. If you like Victoria Williams/Mabel Allbright, then you will be somewhat disappointed with the abridgment of her contributions as a backing vocalist and songwriter. Mark Olson's lyrics are smarter and more visionary then ever, and he pulls the familiar (but perpetually irresistible) hooks out of his bag of tricks. As a result, great songs abound, though the quirky production and regrettable experiments with vocal harmonies makes me wish (1) that most of those songs had been recorded on the relatively more lush and electrified 'My Own Jo Ellen' (which, if you like Mark and Victoria, you should own), or (2) that Olson had scaled back the production and revisited the truly lo-fi sound of the Original Harmony Ridge Creekdipper's earlier efforts. (I should addd that although still around for this recording session, Mike Russell's apparently permanent departure from the Creekdippers is a grave loss.) Gary Louris's one-track cameo and songwriting credit adds nothing other than its promotional value. And the finale, 'One Eyed Black Dog Moses', is just silly. But 9 of 11 ain't bad, especially when 3 ('How Can I Send Tonight', 'Alta's Song', and 'How Can This Be') are sublime.

Mark Olson and the Creekdippers
Decembers Child
Dualtone

Any engagement with the songs of Mark Olson is destined to be a heartfelt encounter with a deeply intimate world. From his time as the founder of The Jayhawks through the course five Creekdipper albums, his is a world to which he opens to us completely and unconditionally. Through his music, Mark Olson has treated us moments of joy and hardship, he has offered us the hand of friendship and bathed us in love and he has led us along the dusty trails of the remembrance and paved the road to the future with hope and opportunity. Fittingly, the dynamics of Olsons recordings have always reflected the tones of his compositions. Always rich in organics, a Creekdipper song has traditionally been imparted with the means it requires to serve its cause yet, an inherent discretion has dictated restraint. And while the Creekdipper recordings might have evolved from what was initially a collaboration between Olson, Victoria Williams and Michael Russell into a more cast orientated foray; the essence of their pursuit has not been lost. Mark Olson's latest Creekdipper sojourn, "Decembers Child, not only encompasses the contributions of Williams and Russell, but those of the bands live contingent, Joshua Grange and Dave Wolfenberger. It also sees Olson reunited with Jayhawk Gary Louris for the first since his departure from the band in 1994.

While the latest Olson/Louris co-credit is certain to solicit a little extra attention, it is but one in a number of magical musical moments that constitute Decembers Child. Even though the honeyed overtones of Say Youll Be Mine is certainly a welcomed addition to the album, the song does resonate a rather familiar 'Jayhawkish' feel. Not that this is a particularly bad thing, as the longing captured within its verses readily aligns itself with the overtones of the album's other recordings. It is simply that the most intriguing moments on this recording seem to be those where Olson explores more eclectic overtures. These can be found in songs such as Black Dog Mosses  a sprawling gem that literally jumps up and bites you on the ass. And while it might not be anywhere near as forthright in temperament as the albums closing contribution, Cactus Wren presents yet another glorious encounter with Olson's musical versatility. But if the virtue of Decembers Child were to be attributed to a single, then it would undoubtedly be Mark Olsons remarkable empathy. Climb These Steps (We Will), Decembers Child and the exquisite Still Have a Friend in You are all shining examples that highlight this claim. It is indeed a special world into which Mark Olson solicits our presence. And it is one for which Decembers Child will long stand as an enticing open invitation.

December's Child is a quality Mark Olson recording. It has all the idiosyncracies of his earlier stuff, which can be endearing. Most of the songs on December's Child are well-crafted and the homespun nature of the material seems genuine; most likely it is. Compared to My own Jo Ellen, this album has a similar feel and sense of place. Regarding the production; this is how I remember music sometimes sounded in the 70's before things seemed to get glossy and way too polished. The feel is more country Neil Young than Gram Parsons, a little fragile and frayed, with a fuzzy warmth but not precious. Like Young, Olson is a talented and original performer who seems to have followed the beat of a different drum. His songs have a sublime and understated quality which can be genuinely affecting. Sometimes it makes sense to me to have some downtime, put on a Mark Olsen album and just unwind.

I hate to be too harsh to Mark, after all he is a talented musician and songwriter, but this CD is just plain wrong. There are times listening to this record that I thought Yoko Ono's worst efforts were dubbed in. Save your money and hope that Mark Olson gets his act back together for future efforts.