Does what is says on the tin!
This isn't roguish country, this isn't Johnny Cash, this isn't even Jack Elliot; this is golden-voiced, silky-toned, infinitely harmonized country that slides into your brain like a snake. This is Elvis-smooth crooning, without the edge, and soft, tinkling guitar that sounds suited to putting your grandpappy to sleep. It has decidedly not held up well, sounding painfully quaint by now, having bare little relevance.
The saving grace is the subject matter, something I so seldom focus on. The album is, like so much country, like so much post-war music, desolately death-obsessed, with protagonists, antagonists, and everyone in between dying or doomed or contemplating ends. Coupled with a lower-than-usual counterpoint of religious overtones, the whole thing is insidiously dark. Like a snake indeed.
So my reaction to this was roundly lukewarm, with one exception: Big Iron is a stunner, full of rich chords, perfectly dancing plucking, haunting backing vocals and a soaring lead that will fill your heart and soul and more, all whipped up into a vivid ballad like no other. Get on board for that song and then hop off, unless you want to nod off to a kinder, gentler time, bouncing ever-so-gently towards a thin white heaven 3/5
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