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The Derailers
Tramps, New York, April 23, 1998
On the surface, it's hard to put your finger on exactly what it is that gives Austin's Derailers the edge over Nashville's more high-profile BR5-49 in the roots country sweepstakes. Both young bands, rockers at heart, unabashedly embrace the sounds of country's yesteryear and preach the gospel with the enthusiasm of born-again fundamentalists speaking in tongues -- honky tonk, Bakersfield sound, western swing and rockabilly, specifically. They both dress in vintage hipster suits, feature great singers, play like grand-an-hour Nashville session pros and charm audiences like Vegas veterans. So why did BR5-49's show at Tramps earlier this year seem like the fun but one-dimensional work of nostalgic doppelgangers, while the Derailers' show at the same New York club tonight revealed a band of genuine country trailblazers worth rallying behind?
It's the songs, Goober. Where BR5-49's bread is mostly buttered with faithfully reproduced classics (at least live), the Derailers routinely fashion their own. The Derailers write such instantly classic songs that one needn't be familiar with either of their Dave Alvin-produced albums (1996's Jackpot and last year's Reverb Deluxe) in order to be snagged by every twin-harmony chorus they deliver in concert. Never heard "Lover's Lie," "California Angel," "Jackpot" or "100% Love" before? Hear them once and you'll swear you have. You'll carry home the melodies without even knowing it, and recall them the next day as easily as, say, "Can't Buy Me Love" or Merle Haggard's "Mama Tried."
The Derailers kicked off last night's show with Reverb's opening loveschmuck anthem, "Just One More Time." "I'll let you have your way just one more time," declared lead vocalist Tony O. Villanueva, his deep, assertive voice cracked with just enough twang to betray an underlying vulnerability. Don't look for progressive themes in the Derailers lyrics, as they stay almost unerringly true to the well-worn, lovin', leavin', cheatin' and hurtin' track of classic country. But it takes panache to polish off a careworn cliche and make it sound new again, as the Derailers did with gems like "Tears In Your Eyes" and "Lover's Lie" ("You say you fell asleep at your sister's watching movies/but that's not the picture showing on your face ....") Those two came in midway through the show in a solid one-two punch which was all the more stunning for the Everly Brothers-perfect harmonizing of Villanueva and lead guitarist Brian S. Hofeldt.
In Villanueva, the Derailers can boast a lead singer on par with the Mavericks' great Raul Malo. Hofeldt, who handled lead on "Tears In Your Eyes" and a handful of other songs, is a little less exceptional but nevertheless has his Buddy Holly hiccup-style delivery down pat (not to mention his imitation Elvis sneer and hip-shake). He's also a fine guitarist, though the rhythm section of cowboy hat-wearing bassist Ethan Shaw and wildly energetic drummer Mark Horn gave the set its real rock kick. And when the Derailers start to really rock, as they did on the encore's reckless rave-up through Prince's "Raspberry Beret" and Chuck Berry's "Johnny B. Goode," (with references to "Daytripper," "Free Ride," and "Low Rider" thrown in for good measure) -- they do so with the unstoppable force of the runaway train their name evokes.
Good thing, too, because up to that moment the Derailers had surpassed BR5-49 but were still catching up to the higher standard set by opening act Mike Ireland and Holler. The Sub-Pop signed Missouri band played straight-up country laced with Ireland's dark and often bitter lyrics, epitomized on the wicked "House of Secrets." Ireland and Holler did more than just give the Derailers a run for the money: they casually knocked every other "No Depression" band in the country out of the running for the "Who Has the Biggest Balls" prize with their poker-faced, hard-core, honky tonk take on "Harper Valley P.T.A." What the hell does Seattle's Sub-Pop know about country? With Holler, more than enough to potentially shake up the country music establishment the same way the label brought rock to its knees with Nirvana.
RICHARD SKANSE