Tré Burt – You, Yeah, You
Oh Boy Records/Thirty Tigers – 27 August 2021
It’s a definite and resolutely authentic twang that welcomes listeners to Sacramento singer-songwriter Tré Burt’s new release You, Yeah, You. Opening track ‘I Cannot Care’ is a fine bluesy piece that perfectly sets the scene for Burt’s atmospheric and timeless selection of songs. It works well and prepares the listener for a captivating and heartfelt journey into America’s troubled but equally beautiful heart.
Recorded in Durham, North Carolina, with guests such as Alex Farrar on guitar, Matt McCaughan on drums, percussions, modular synth and Sylvan Esso’s Amelia Meath and Kelsey Waldon on backing vocals, alongside producers Brad Cook on bass and synths and Phil Cool on keys and harmonica, the twelve tracks on You, Yeah, You perfectly capture a sense of the fragility, pain and hope, of modern America. Still, it could easily be America of the past. The old adage of ‘the more things change, the more they remain the same’ rings true here.
The album is essentially a collection of little narratives, stories featuring a varied cast of fictional characters, all travelling the landscape of America today, but with a clear resonance of the country’s problematic moments in history, all flavoured by Burt’s loaded yet sincere, poetry and distinctive vocals.
There’s a beautiful sense of heritage and tradition on the album. For example, ‘Dixie Red’, with backing vocals from Waldon, is Burt’s tribute to the much-missed John Prine, very much a hero to Burt. In his writing, Burt played with imagery from Prine’s catalogue. Listen to the lines ‘Boundless in the evergreen waters / Gently down the stream / Green River knows you as its father’, which is a nod to Prine’s song ‘Paradise’. As Burt, himself notes: “‘Dixie Red’ is a southern grown peach and that line from Spanish Pipedream has always been so potent to me. So, I used a peach as imagery to represent John’s body of work he left behind for all of us.” Of note, You, Yeah, You is released via Prine’s Oh Boy record label. It’s a natural fit and a fine legacy.
Musically You, Yeah, You takes the listener on a journey through the mid-west, with some rather tasty sounds, one of Burt’s strength’s though, is in his willingness to unearth difficult themes. ‘By The Jasmine’ explores issues relating to depression and particularly race. “This song is anecdotal”, notes Burt, “following an incident where I was surrounded by police officers called by a white woman while minding my own business, in my own neighbourhood”. It’s not an overtly worthy song though, its serious message is delivered lightly but nonetheless with a quiet and emotional power.
On the other hand, ‘Funny Story (Song For Eva)’ is a playful, Dylan-esque song, an almost fantasy blues track. Similarly, ‘Me Oh My’ is a fun little track on the difficulties of trying to find answers to life’s big questions, especially if trying to find it through the bottle or other means: “I thought drinkin liquor was all I need / but all that it made me was sad and mean / So I took up smokin that cigaweed / and it just made worse my memory”, whilst ‘Ransom Blues’ finds the listener on more familiar ground with an ageless song about hardship and brittle hope.
‘Carnival Mirror’ is a cry of resistance, a song for the disaffected youth of modern-day America. It’s an angry, powerful track with a pleading chorus: “For cryin out loud, I just want out / no I can’t take it anymore / this carnival mirror got everybody feelin sick / there’s no winners, there’s no losers / just life and its abuser”.
Despite the realism of Burt’s worthy themes, there is sweetness on the album too. Shades of Springsteen can be felt on the sublime ‘Sammi’s Song’. It’s a short little track, only two minutes long, but it tugs on the heartstrings in that brief time.
The penultimate track, ‘Solo’, plays with the sound of the word, with Burt philosophically considering the state of being alone but also feeling down, or ‘so low’. It’s a traditional heartbreak song: “Solo, wherever I go / I feel so low / I know that it shows / it’s a prison that I can’t escape / won’t you just look away”. It’s a poignant song and, along with the final track, ‘Tell Mary’, which sees the tales of the disparate characters come together, marks an emotive conclusion to a compelling album.
Burt’s working-class roots are evident throughout You, Yeah, You. The album is characterised by an honest and compassionate set of tales, rich with stories of humanity, its beauty and faults, of Burt’s American homeland. Burt is a considered commentator on the American condition, a philosopher in jeans and You, Yeah, You is a forceful and timely release. Combine the topicality of the album’s themes with Burt’s sinewy, reedy voice, and you have a record that demands to be heard. It’s a sensitive, knowing and confidently engaging journey, and Burt is a persuasive new presence on the American folk scene. These songs are alive. Burt lives and breathes this landscape, and You, Yeah, You, is a vital record. Burt’s album possesses a raw, heart-rending sound, one that will thoroughly absorb you. Prine would be proud.
Pre-Order You, Yeah, You: https://orcd.co/youyeahyou
Photo Credit: Allan Baker