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A River Ain't Too Much Too Love is Bill Callahan's 12th LP under
the Smog moniker. He has been producing material of bleak grace as far
back as 1988 cassette-only release Macrame Gunplay. The latest offering
was recorded in 10 days at Willie Nelson's studio in Texas and is
self-produced. Callahan changed his working methods on the new record.
He had written all the material before entering the studio where he has
often composed on the hoof before. The songs are loosely based around
the theme of rivers.
Callahan's voice is an enquired taste, a low baritone croon that
recalls the bard of Broadway Leonard Cohen or a countrified Lou
Reed. Smog has at times been linked in with the alt country movement
but the sound on this record is bleak and harsh modernist folk. It
contains none of the melodic flourishes or sunshine harmonies that course
through the majority of Americana. The songs are stripped down to their
bare bones - a plucked or strummed acoustic guitar, brushed drums, hi-hat
splashes and unfussy bass provide the settings for the songs. It's the
bleak barren badlands of the America. Iron And Wine and Will
Oldham in his various guises traverse similar terrain.
The album seems to be bound by lyrical themes of travelling,
childhood and family ties. He mentions his sisters and his mum and dad with
affection on more than one occasion. Childhood and youthful memories
surface on The Well, In The Pines and Drinking At The Dam.
It's fitting that On Rock Bottom Riser Callaghan sings "I bought this
guitar to pledge my love to you", as it's the sound of his guitar
carries that the LP and infuses the record with a sense of rustic contemplation.
The delicate finger-picked melodies are like dust dancing in morning
sunlight; John Fahey jamming with Woody Guthrie. Slight, beautiful
and as fragile as brightly painted eggshells.
The devil is in the detail, so although the songs sound sparse and
empty, there are wonderfully gentle surprises woven into the textures.
The piano notes and descending bassline that add colour to Rock Bottom
Riser and the fiddle that whistles through In The Pines are examples of
where Callaghan's skills as an arranger shine.
The album is also not just one-paced. Say Valley Maker is
driven along by The Dirty Three's Jim White's shifting drum
patterns. Starting out slowly and building to a marching pace, the addition of
an aching cello refrain and blissful backing vocals lift the song and its themes of redemption and rebirth. It's aptly summed up when
Callaghan sings "bury me in fire and I am gonna phoenix".
In The Pines, a rewrite of Leadbelly's Where Did You Sleep
Last Night, refines the blues as a folk memory both in sound and subject
matter. I Feel Like The Mother of The World strides forth on jangling guitar
strings, while opening track Palimpsest's guitar chords chime like a clock at
high noon. Drinking At The Dam revolves around a ghostly vocal clip and a
strummed acoustic guitar. It's the tale of cutting school, drinking warm
beers and yelling abuse, it could be a Bruce Springsteen song
rewritten by his country cousin.
In all, this album is a brave and stark exercise in pared down musicianship and song
writing that will take up residence in your brain if you let it in.
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