Tom Russell
Mesabi

"Some things never change" sings Tom Russell in "Mesabi," the title track of his latest album, fresh off the press, and he's fundamentally right: there are still constants, immutable and reassuring certainties, and that Tom Russell is synonymous with great music is one of them.

Indefatigable, never weary, not at all softened despite the identity card that now marks fifty-eight years; he returns with "Mesabi" two years after an album like "Blood And Candle Smoke," decidedly important and significant for the songwriter: recorded with the Calexico as a backing band, for the first time without the historic guitarist Andrew Hardin, its main feature was the acoustic sound, rarefied and refined, at times almost painful, enriched by marvelous songs like "East Of Woodstock, West Of Vietnam," "Santa Ana Wind," "Nina Simone," and "Guadalupe," rightfully among the highest peaks of his repertoire, although unable to avoid some fillers and unnecessary prolixity, which affect the final judgment. 

"Mesabi" is definitely a less ambitious record than its predecessor, but this does not mean that it lacks its own, pronounced personality: the sound returns to a more classically folk-rock style with Tex-Mex influences, and overall it sounds very serene, confident and unwavering, accessible, classic, successful, spontaneous and without particular drops in tone despite a rich and full tracklist. Unlike the previous "Love And Fear" and "Blood And Candle Smoke," centered on personal themes, "Mesabi" is also notable for the strong return of storytelling, an art in which he is an absolute master; it is an album full of quotes and characters mainly from the history of cinema: the intense folk-rock of "Farewell Never Never Land" retraces the story of the unlucky Bobby Driscoll, beyond the myth of Peter Pan, the cheerful "The Lonesome Death Of Ukulele Ike" is a tribute to Cliff Edwards, the author of "Singin' In The Rain," then the memory of Liz Taylor in the very brief "Furious Love (For Liz)", dominated by the haunting sound of a cello, the death of James Dean in the majestic ballad "A Land Called Way Out There", which sounds almost like a solemn military march, where we find Calexico and the tormented "Sterling Hayden". Further strengthening this bond, we find "Roll The Credits, Johnny" and "Road To Nowhere", two intense ballads from the homonymous 2010 thriller by Monte Hellman for which Tom Russell composed the soundtrack. 

Besides this thematic core which constitutes the heart of the album, there are songs of a more personal nature, such as the title track "Mesabi", classic folk-rock that couldn't be more classic, bright and radio-friendly, where Tom Russell talks about his musical vocation quoting some myths of his youth like Buddy Holly and Howlin' Wolf, and two ballads like the sweet and soothing "When The Legends Die" and "Heart Within A Heart", enriched by soul-flavored backing vocals, both wonderful and both characterized by the presence of Van Dyke Parks on the piano. The Tex-Mex sounds so dear to Tom Russell are present through the presence of trumpets and brass throughout the album, but they are never prominently featured except in the bittersweet Mexican waltz of "And God Created Border Towns", which revives the odyssey of Mexican migrants at the Rio Grande border, in the ballad "Goodnight, Juarez", which seems to come directly from "Borderland," with the full Calexico ensemble and the now loyal Gretchen Peters as a backing vocalist and finally the fascinating "Jai Alai", a stunning and driving flamenco, one of the gems and perhaps the biggest surprise of the album.

Lastly, Tom Russell has included two beautiful surprises in this album: one is the new, essential guitar and voice version of "Love Abides", the song that was the closing of the unforgettable "The Man From God Knows Where," in my opinion superior to the original; the other is a birthday gift: indeed, Tom Russell wanted to celebrate Bob Dylan's seventy years with his very personal interpretation of "A Hard Rain's A-Gonna Fall": with the unmistakable support of Calexico and the warm and intense voice of Lucinda Williams, gives life to a tortured, intense, and rarefied interpretation, extending for nearly nine minutes of great prophetic and visionary suggestion, just as Bob Dylan would have wanted, and surely the master will be satisfied with this tribute from one of his most talented and substantial disciples, who still shows he has a lot to say, because although "Mesabi" introduces basically nothing new in his now well-established style, it is much more than just a professional product: it is an inspired, classic, rich, and always evocative album; nothing else remains but to give credit where it's due to the great Thomas George Russell, and wish him another hundred of these albums.