Tom Russell
Modern Art

"Modern Art" from 2003 is by far the worst album by Tom Russell; well, never mind, there are minor albums in every discography, especially in one as long and prolific as his. Unlike the previous and infinitely superior "Borderland," "Modern Art" is not a concept album, except in a very broad sense: no longer the confined setting of the Mexican frontier, but a more generic analysis and celebration of America and in particular of some emblematic men who have made its history. However, Russell often and willingly strays off-topic, and many episodes sound truly mannered and lacking in ideas, far from the emotional intensity to which we had become accustomed. A work with few truly interesting ideas, almost exclusively tied to the effective re-proposal of what he had already expressed in the past. A mix at times without rhyme or reason of covers and originals, which at certain points takes on the contours of a simple reluctant assignment, something that had never happened before and that, fortunately, won't happen again, except for a few sporadic episodes.

Among the best episodes on the album, which settles on decidedly more impersonal country rock sounds compared to previous albums, the initial standout is "The Kid From Spavinaw", an intense, slow, rarefied, and evocative ballad. It is not one of those songs that impress immediately but it has charm, depth, and tells with the usual mastery the story of a baseball legend, Mickey Mantle, emphasizing more the man, his not easy life, full of problems and sufferings, rather than the myth. And then there are three classic acoustic ballads, simple but effective and moving, "The Boy Who Cried Wolf", "The Dutchman", and "Isaac Lewis", three beautiful songs that seem almost taken from the masterpiece "The Man From God Knows Where", with that same ancient and poignant sound, of European folk ascendancies. "Modern Art", the title track, although not excellent, showcases a lively and pleasant melody, accompanied by a lively fiddle; the lyrics are also beautiful, where Russell retraces his life through historical, artistic, and personal events, while "Racehorse Haynes" is a beautiful, tight, and gritty country-rock, thanks to the successful combination of harmonica and Andrew Hardin's guitar; if two such pieces, undoubtedly very enjoyable, somehow become salient episodes in a Tom Russell album, well, it means that there's something wrong.

And indeed, we move on to the painful notes, which unfortunately are not few: Tom Russell has always had a particular feeling with Nanci Griffith, a good singer-songwriter and excellent interpreter, who often accompanied him in concert and with whom he co-wrote "Outbound Plane", which became a staple in both artists' repertoires; in "Modern Art" the talented Nanci appears in three songs, none of which, unfortunately, are saved. "The Ballad Of Sally Rose" by Emmylou Harris and "Gulf Coast Highway" by Griffith herself aren't bad: two tear-jerking ballads, alien bodies to the already smoky context of the album, and especially the former, performed in a fairly flat and static way; "Bus Station" by Dave Alvin", Russell's colleague and personal friend, is no exception, being simply a dull and boring filler. Another rather unremarkable cover is "American Hotel" by Carl Brouse, dedicated to America's first great songwriter, Stephen Foster. Here too, an old sound, already heard, almost colorless, with a basically useless spoken introduction, even if the peak of boredom is reached with "Crucifix In A Death Hand/Carmelita", the recitation of a Charles Bukowski poem accompanied by the acoustic guitar combined with a sketch of "Carmelita" by the then-dying Warren Zevon: an irritating mishmash that drags on for almost seven minutes. What remains in the end? Another inconsistent filler, "Tijuana Bible", and finally "Muhammad Ali", based on a simple acoustic guitar riff, is very fresh, light, almost summery: a beach ballad, very, very limited, also by an absolutely academic text that does not do justice to the subject to which it is dedicated, nor to Tom Russell himself.

In conclusion, "Modern Art" is an album that barely reaches a very meager sufficiency, two and a half stars. A very beautiful but misleading cover, apart from "The Kid From Spavinaw", the ideas are few and confused, and the addition of far from memorable covers only serves to lengthen a bland broth, further worsening the situation; an album "only for fans", which will fortunately be just an isolated episode, as the subsequent "Indians Cowboys Horses Dogs" and especially "Love And Fear" will bring Tom Russell back to significantly more fitting quality standards, to which he is accustomed.