STEVE EARLE and THE DUKES: Terraplane
STEVE EARLE and THE DUKES
Terraplane
New West 6329
As a teenager in Texas, Steve Earle heard plenty of blues … though, until now, the blues had usually been less in his own music’s foreground than rock, folk and country. As he writes in his new blues album’s notes, âFor my part, I’ve only ever believed two things about the blues: one, that they are very democratic, the commonest of human experience, perhaps the only thing that we all truly share, and, two, that one day, when it was time, I would make this record.â
As usual with Earle’s albums, Tony Fitzpatrick’s detailed cover art merits scrutiny, and there’s what Steve calls a state-of-me song (maybe two). Propelled by Eleanor Whitmore’s lithe fiddling, buoyant âAin’t Nobody’s Daddy Nowâ comes in the wake of his divorce from Allison Moorer. Their marriage lasted way longer than any of his many previous ones during his bygone years on the needle. Still, when unfettered âNobody’s Daddyâ (think of Greg Brown’s âJust by Myselfâ) segues into the sad resignation of âBetter Off Alone,â we wonder if he’s of two minds about the split.
Like vintage blues, Terraplane is hardly all downhearted. Goofy romance boasting a Chicago harp riff opens the disc as âBaby Baby Baby (Baby)â proclaims love for a woman standing all of âfive feet ain’tâ down in a town called Shut My Mouth. The singer crows that he can see his beloved whenever the moon is blue. Gee, how fulfilling. Even more cheerful is âBaby’s Just as Mean as Me,â a fond duet with Whitmore that approaches John Prine’s âIn Spite of Ourselvesâ with Iris DeMent. Fans seeking Steve’s political songs can stick with earlier albums.
So what does the CD’s title signify? A Terraplane was a 1930s car made by Hudson. âTerraplane Bluesâ was Robert Johnson’s first release in 1936. Steve’s compositions on his album Terraplane show plenty of the blues’ faces over the decades. Ably picked âGamblin’ Bluesâ has a vintage white country blues vibe. Earle’s harp on âThe Usual Timeâ channels Buster Brown’s l960 hit âFannie Mae.â
As for the blues’ dark side, âI’m the last word in lonesome and the king of the blues,â he sings on the CD’s closer. The most powerfully fearsome track, mythology-laden âThe Tennessee Kid,â comes early on. It’s a Faustian narration of a sold soul that’s way more apocalyptic than the exaggerated legend of Robert Johnson (who’s referenced in the lyrics).
Robert Leroy Johnson’s spirit appears way at the end of a second disc (a DVD) that only comes in Terraplane‘s deluxe edition. The DVD starts with interviews with Earle, producer R.S. Field and long-time engineer Ray Kennedy. Then come solo acoustic porch performances of two songs on the CD plus one (the trad-based âSo Different Bluesâ) that isn’t on it. Next is a 24-bit high-res audio version of the album. For a surprise hidden track, we’re treated to the package’s only appearance of the song inspiring its title. Steve credibly covers Johnson’s âTerraplane Blues,â whose carnal metaphors that typify the blues give way to one of the blues’ most basic questions: âI want to know who been drivin’ my Terraplane for you since I’ve been gone.â
— Bruce Sylvester