Musicians who live in New York City have often learned the hard way that the music industry can be shortsighted when it comes to recognizing talent in its own back yard. Many bands that dreamed of shots at the big time have long since had to accept that the reason they're still playing – at age forty and beyond – is for the fun, not the glory. But now such scaled-down expectations help some of these musicians stand out against a contemporary talent pool long on flash but short on substance. The Holmes Brothers' Where It's At and the Tom Russell Band's Hurricane Season are prime examples of this emerging scene of veteran New York artists.

Early in the Eighties, Wendell and Sherman Holmes teamed up with drummer Popsy Dixon, who had been knocking around the New York club scene since the mid-Sixties. Despite their long-standing local notoriety, the Holmes Brothers never landed a record contract until 1989, when they released In the Spirit on Rounder Records. Rave reviews led to bigger gigs, and suddenly the band was touring Europe and playing festivals.

Where It's At, the second Holmes Brothers record, is a vivid representation of the rough-edged mixture of soul, gospel, blues and country music that powers the band's live performances. The material balances classics like Sam Cooke's "That's Where It's At," Henry Glover's "Drown in My Own Tears" and Hank Williams's "I Saw the Light" with newly written songs by Wendell Holmes and Paul Kelly. Wendell's wrenching vocals and driving soloing on guitar is heard to best effect on the R&B staple "High Heel Sneakers," one of the band's crowd pleasers. The album also marks the appearance of the band's newest member, steel guitarist Gib Wharton, whose virtuosity gives the band a unique edge.

Tom Russell has been a mainstay on the New York songwriters' scene for several years, during which time the showcases he organized at various clubs brought long-overdue attention to many talented writers. Russell's own songs, mainly about American heroes and antiheroes, offer insight and wryly observed detail reminiscent of John Prine and Steve Goodman. Russell's ode to railroad-yard hobos, "Lord of the Trains," and his ruminations on New York's Happy Land Social Club fire, "A Dollar's Worth of Gasoline," are finely drawn glimpses of American dreams gone sour. "Haley's Comet," a song co-written with Dave Alvin about the last days of Bill Haley, is as chilling a song about the underside of the rock & roll dream as has been written.

Russell and the Holmes Brothers represent such different musical directions that it may be hard to imagine how they thrive together in one climate. But unlike most regional scenes, New York takes elements from all of the world's music and makes new sounds – new sounds that then enrich listeners as powerfully as these two albums do. (RS 624)

JOHN SWENSON