Music Review: “Old Blue Truck” by Charles de Lint and “Crow Girls” by MaryAnn Harris

Listen to Old Blue Truck by Charles de Lint and Crow Girls by MaryAnn Harris

If you’ve read the contemporary “real world” mythic fantasy works of Charles de Lint, you know he has a knack for creating believable characters that seem just a little too real, and stories that exist somewhere in the twilight land between wish fulfillment and nightmare, between the all-too-familiar and the too-long-wished for. You also know that his tales are absolutely thick with music—his prose is lyrical and poetic, and more than a few of his plots revolve around songs or tunes, lush and dripping with gritty urban enchantment. Many of his characters are themselves musicians, and even the ones who aren’t will mention a favorite artist, concert, or recording now and then.

But of you haven’t had a chance to hear Charles de Lint perform live with his wife, the artist MaryAnn Harris, you’re only getting half the story. Up until now, that meant you had to be lucky enough to catch the couple at a fantasy convention or book festival, or make the trek to Ottawa to hear them at a quaint pub like Paddy’s. If you’ve had the experience, you know what a treat it is. The music carries echoes of Celtic, roots, folk, rock, blues, and … whatever the heck it is that artists like Fred Eaglesmith, David Franklin, and Tom Waits sing. I’ve heard it called urban country, which is certainly an evocative label, except that it really doesn’t tell you anything unless you already know what it sounds like.

Happily, the couple has finally found the time to record and release a pair of CDs. And better still, while the tunes are dressed up in their Sunday best, they don’t have that slick, over-produced quality that drives the life out of far too many first time recordings. Old Blue Truck and Crow Girls captures all heart and energy of their live performances.

MaryAnn Harris’ Crow Girls is the shorter of the two with only five tracks. Her voice is bouncy and energetic, and offers far more range—I mean that more in terms of style and emotion than vocal range—than you’d expect if you’d just heard her singing back up on Old Blue Truck. Her voice is gentle and melodic, of course, but you’re kind of expecting that. So much so that the more raucous, more rascally edge kind of sneaks up on you.

The title track, Crow Girls, is taken from two of the more memorable characters in Charles de Lint’s Newford stories, and it’s just as fun and lively as you’d expect if you’ve encountered them in the tales. It has its own strange logic, and it continues to defy your expectations, even when played again. Another favorite is In A heartbeat, a more overtly roots tune about a long love that does more than endure—it keeps its magic alive. All in all, it’s a lovely gem of an EP, and MaryAnn Harris’s voice and mandolin blend perfectly with the guitar and fiddle that accompany her.

MaryAnn Harris’s voice is much, well, smokier in her backup vocals on Charles de Lint’s Old Blue Truck. Charles de Lint’s voice has the throaty growl of a smoother Tom Waits or a rougher Lou Reed, and it’s perfect for the CD’s ten tracks, all off which just shine with de Lint’s talents both as a musician and as a storyteller. To my ear at least, Great Big Moon is the strongest track on a strong CD. If you’re listening with headphones or earbuds, be prepared to explain to anyone who might pass that you’ve got something in you eye. If you’re playing it through speakers, well, you won’t have to explain why you’re wiping away a tear. It’s a quiet and introspective piece about the harder edges of romance, and de Lint’s rough but smooth (think of the best whiskeys and you’ll know what I mean) voice gives it power and poignance.

The rest of the tunes are equally strong, although Cherokee Girl and Medicine Road deserve special mention. All feature strong guitar lines, solid vocals, and evocative lyrics. I hope both CDs will find the wide audiences they deserve. The couple deserves to have their reputation spread beyond a few pubs and festivals. If you’re about to hear them for the first time, trust me. You’re in for a treat.

Tuesday Night Irish Music Jam Session at The Grange Public House

Update: The Grange is now called The Marlay House. Same owners, same terrific pub. Just a new name. The rest of this review still stands.

Nestled as we are between Atlanta, Decatur, Oakhurst, and Little Five Points, Carol and I are blessed to live in Pubtopia. South, more or less, you’ve got the good old Brew House Café and the marvelous new gastro pub, the Porter. West, there’re two that I think would make just about anyone’s favorites lists: The Local (a quintessential neighborhood bar with great food) and The Book House (a friendly, literary gastro pub named for Twin Peaks!), both on Ponce. East takes you to Oakhurst and the Universal Joint, or to East Atlanta Village. North (I admit that my directions are approximate at best) and you’re in Decatur, where you’ll find Twain’s (a wonderful literary-themed Brew Pub!), Leon’s Full Service (delicious upscale locavore), Eddie’s Attic (the best live music listening room south of the North Pole), and, of course, the Platoic ideal of the perfect pub: the Brick Store. I’m not even mentioning the world’s most ideal neighborhood bar, the venerable and beloved Manuel’s Tavern.

I should mention that all of these places are within a mile or two of us, and every last one is warm, friendly, and comfortable. All have very good to excellent pub food, with beer lists ranging from solid to jaw-dropping. Each has something special to recommend it: music at Eddie’s, the books at the Book House, barbecue at the Local, God’s own beer and whiskey menu at the Brick Store, and sports at the Brew House, for example. Indeed, it’s the embarrassment of riches that keeps me from naming a favorite: my own Cheers, as it were.

Which brings me to The Grange, also on Ponce in Decatur. It’s an Irish Pub, actually run by Irishmen, and it has a beer list to rival even the mighty Brick Store. It’s a comfortable, homey place—and one where you’re never going to hear that dang unicorn song. (They don’t usually have live music—for the stage-Irish pub Irish singers, you’ll need to head down to Limerick Junction in Virginia Highlands.) The upscale pub food at the Grange is amazing, even for Pubtopia. I have a hard time not ordering the slow smoked, Guinness braised brisket every time, but when I’ve managed to try the bangers and mash, the pasta with cream sauce, the fish and chips (excellent, but the James Joyce in Avondale still has the best), or even the burger, I’ve been exceptionally pleased. These guys have comfort food down.

If I had to pick a favorite, I’d agonize—but the Grange is probably the one I’d pick, if only because you can’t get in to the Brick Store on the weekends, you can’t park at the Porter, and Eddie’s is for music, not just hanging out. In fact, the Grange is the place I’ve chosen for my Raven Wakes the World book release “after party” November 7. (If you’re in the neighborhood, please join us! There will be live music that night.)

Again, any of the ones I’d mentioned could be a favorite. They’re all on the list, and I grin ear to er when I’d heading to any one of them. So why the Grange? The funny thing is, I didn’t care for it that much when it was the Angel, a British Pub owned by the chain that operates (or operated) The Prince of Wales, Hand in Hand, and Fox and Hound. I didn’t dislike it, mind. It was a pub—by definition, I liked it. And honestly, it doesn’t look all that different now. It’s elegant, with lots of brick an old dark wood, but it’s comfortable and welcoming. The food and drink menus are vastly improved, though. The big difference, though, is more intangible. It’s the feel of the place. Something about it just makes me feel comfortable and welcome.

There’s one more thing. Every Tuesday night, there is a Celtic music jam session. While most of us sit around in a circle, nursing our ales and listening in a sort of golden haze of happy ecstasy, some of Atlanta’s very best traditional music play—well, whatever you feel like.

Now, as many of you know, I am a huge fan of Celtic music. Once upon a time, I used to host a Celtic radio show, and my forthcoming novel Blackthorne Faire is just drenched in it. I don’t play, but the world needs audiences, too, and on most nights, I can clap along, or distinguish the difference between a jig and a reel. I’ve been to sessions all over the world, and I own CDs from some of the more legendary ones in places like Dublin and New York, but I’ll swear, these guys can hold their own with any of them. Heck, they’re tighter than a lot of studio bands. I’ve paid fifty bucks to hear Celtic bands that didn’t sound this polished.

If you’re good, you’re welcome to join in. If you’re a beginner, you’re probably going to want to sit and listen. But I’m told it’ll make you ache to practice until you’re good enough to join the circle yourself. For me, it’s enough just to listen, to let the music wash over me like healing waters. But I understand the feeling. Something in the music wakes the urge to make. I’m always dying to write when I leave there.

The music is (not surprisingly, given that it’s a Celtic jam) mostly Celtic. But there are a few diversions. You’ll hear some Old Time, some Bluegrass, and even some Gypsy Jazz. It’s all great stuff. And you can listen as you swap stories with good friends, and nurse a pint of your favorite. Here’s raising a glass to simple pleasures and good times. Good times that happen every Tuesday night are even better. Cheers, mates. I hope to see you there.