Leftover Salmon – Brand New Good Old Days
Compass Records – 7 May 2021
There’s a chance that you came to Leftover Salmon, and their album ‘Brand New Good Old Days’ via their much-touted cover of Soundgarden’s ‘Black Hole Sun’, deconstructed from its psychedelic grunge original iteration, extinguishing all the angst, replacing almost with a vaudevillian soft shoe shuffle, albeit with an added banjo. As the rest of this delightful record reveals, this is no novelty band but a timeless breeze through the annals of cross-connecting American musical styles.
Others already familiar with the band will know they have a thirty-year pedigree as bastions of the jam band community. Jam band, for me, is always a misnomer, as, whilst I appreciate the dictionary description and the application to bands who feature “long, unscripted and meandering” musical segments in any live setting, and I am sure they do, the term to me more often embraces the engagement of outside influences drawn into standard rock music, hefty dollops of country and bluegrass, slabs of the blues and of jazz, all leavened with occasional scattered remnants of trad.arr. The Grateful Dead set that template, innumerable others following, different tangents and traditions spilling as far as you want. Leftover Salmon are distinctly at the bluegrassier end of the spectrum, ‘jamgrass’, if you will, courtesy the aforementioned banjo and prominent mandolin, but always with a kick alongside, courtesy a rock rhythm section and, often, rippling keys. This is the eleventh album, still featuring original members Vince Herman, guitar, washboard and vocals, and Drew Emmitt, mandolin, fiddle, guitar and vocals. The original engineer of their banjo led thrust, Mark Vann, died in 2002, and here is replaced by Andy Thorn.
So back to ‘Black Hole Sun’, the album opener, which ripples into a brisk canter, the vocals a warm dip in the river, rather than Chris Cornell’s existential moan. A brief burst of distraught guitar acts as a middle eight, a nod back to the original, with the backing getting fed through a Leslie cabinet, and then it’s back into the saddle, glorious tinkling piano now vying neck and neck with Thorn’s banjo.
The title track follows, an instant highlight, the piano again prominent. A nostalgic sound, with echoes of the Ozark Mountain Daredevils in the relaxed style and swagger, this song just endears itself and is surely a set closer. Vince Herman, the lead vocalist, has a voice that sounds effortless, oozing an avuncular charm as big as his beard.
Another cover follows, dare I say unnecessarily, even if it is by John Hartford, his ‘Category Stomp’ just a bit too derivative and dated for the band, even with a decidedly freaky fiddle solo towards the end, as the band extend into the sort of instrumental noodling that begs for a live stretch. Thankfully next track, ‘Flyin’ At Night’, captures any slight falter, and careers into a slightly different vibe, a N’Awlinsy organ infused swamp swirler. A word here for guest musician Erik Deutsch whose precision of piano and organ is striking, with always the right flurry of notes, and clearly a man with a terrific record collection.
‘Left Unsung’ again rings a brief different bell, the chopped guitar intro hitting a near ska backbeat, not that you would notice as the rest of the band join in, and it is another foot-tapping joy, piano and banjo continuing most of the heavy lifting. The lyric is, as indeed are most, a simple ode to the joys of singing and playing, nothing fancy required or offered. Indeed, the band is awash with writing talent, as, besides Herman, Emmitt and Thorn, both the bassist, Greg Garrison, who also took the production seat, and Alwyn Robinson, on drums, contributed songs. Such is the cohesiveness of the band, it is invidious trying to second guess who wrote what.
The final cover on the disc, ‘Boogie Grass Band’, is here to try and explain the M.O. of the band, and opens with a squelching synthesizer burble, ahead of addressing the concept of boogie-grass, that mix and meld of bluegrass with the Allman Brothers, that band getting a mention in the chorus, and in the instrumental segments, with close as this lifts from ‘Rambling Man’.
‘Red Fox Run’ shows they can sing in harmony, the chorus of this deceptively simple song one that will lodge hard in your ear, the arrangement again showing off the skills of the band in avoiding the obvious instrumental runs that a more traditional band might provide. With ‘Sunday’ then dropping the pace, there is a hint of ‘Disney Girls’, maybe more in the mood than any overt steal, which is a pleasing pause for reflection, Emmitt’s mandolin making a welcome appearance.
‘Waterfront’ would be a straightforward blues, were it not for banjo picking the notes that a guitar might more usually. Buoyed along by yet more fabulous organ, there is a pleasantly orthodox guitar solo towards the end, containing all the notes you need for a daydream, definitely, the feeling evoked. A brief female call and response at the end comes also as a welcome surprise. I’d like to hear more of this direction.
Finally, over and out with ‘We’ll Get By”, a song of hope tinged with realism, the lyric not a million miles adrift from the chorus of ‘Touch of Grey’, effectively paying a debt to that body of their influence. Another song very much in the vein of the title track, it leaves that same hope in your heart. It may have taken me thirty years to catch up with this band, I certainly hope they have some more wind in their hair.
Photo Credit: John-Ryan Lockman (Show Love Media)