Feeling mortal --- Kris Kristofferson --- 2012 (KK)
First, I should say I'm no fan of Kris Kristofferson, though I know of his work. I saw this and thought this is going to be one of three things: either it's a message from one of the old guard to the new rising stars, sharing his experience and giving them the benefit of his almost forty years in the business, or else it would be the old guy showing the young guns how it's done, blazin' a trail he had already carved across country music for near to half a century. The third possibility was that it would just be a revelation, an unexpected (by me) gem of an album that would make me wonder if it was worth seeking out more of his output.
Turns out, it's none of these things.
Now, before I get crucified by all you country fans (you two there, hiding behind the Batlord's cloak)or fans of the man himself, I am aware that this album has been praised by country music critics and some say it's his best. I don't see it. They call it "Kris laughing at the Reaper" (in keeping with the title) --- I find it more laughing at the record-buyers. No, not even that: there's little laughter on this album at all that I can see. I'm most likely completely wrong, but what I hear here is the voice of a tired old man who has been asked to grind out one more album before he finishes up, an album he doesn't want to record, an album he has no interest in recording. This, to me, is a man who would rather be cradling a whiskey or a coffee, sitting on the porch watching the sunset and thinking about his grandchildren than sweating his hours out in a stuffy studio, putting together songs that say little and mean less.
Sure, go ahead and aim that shotgun at me, threatening to blow my head off if I don't stop disrespecting one of country's legends. I don't care. I genuinely approached this album thinking it would be something different, something I could write about with enthusiasm, something I could recommend. But what I got was a drony, bored voice singing --- and I use the term loosely: Krostofferson is mostly on the verge of muttering or mumbling most of these songs --- very formulaic, boring, stodgy old country fare, not one of which made me want to tap my fingers (other than in frustration) or listen deeply to the lyric. It's as if he said, well let's just throw in some standard country themes, get some fiddles and harmonicas and steel guitars, and get this thing over with.
I'm truly sorry this is how this album made me feel, but I haven't been so bored since I listened to my younger brother drone on for hours about the Titanic in a way that just makes you want to fantasise about pouring petrol over yourself and looking for a match. It was a serious struggle to get through the album --- short as it is --- and I only listened to it twice, once to hear what it was like and the second time to review it properly. I'm sure --- I know he has done far better than this, but this album speaks to everything I hate about country music. It's dull, lifeless, soulless and almost borderline nasty at points.
So, feeling mortal? You won't be feeling much better after this review!
Opening with the title track it's based around an acoustic guitar and pedal steel, slow and plodding, drony and to my mind boring. Some nice electric guitar comes in, some backing vocals and to be honest not too bad but nothing to get excited about. "Mama Stewart" is more annoying, basically a slowed-down version of his big hit "Me and Bobbie McGee", again placed against a backdrop of soft acoustic guitar. Some good powerful bass then with percussion fills the song out a little, and not surprisingly given the title it's a song about an old woman dying.
A little more upbeat thanks to some fine accordion is "Bread for the body", but the tune sounds very familiar, and the ends of the lines in the verses are drawn out ridiculously long. Sarah Watkins of Nickel Creek adds some very effective violin/fiddle and Greg Liesz we've heard before, and here on pedal steel, he helps raise the quality of the music, but it's very, very generic in my view. It all slows back then for "You don't tell me what to do", an almost funereal tempo to the music, though there's some nice guitar from Mark Goldenberg, and some fine harmonica too.
There's a slow kind of honky-tonk, bar room feel to "Stairway to the bottom", with Kristofferson's voice almost breaking in sorrow, crying into his whiskey it would seem, while "Just suppose" is more acoustic and steel guitar; there's a lot of regret and tales of wasted lives on this album, which is in itself odd, as Kristofferson has been a leading light of country music for decades, and has certainly seen his dreams fulfilled, unlike the characters in his songs here. Some weird Hawaiian style guitar doesn't sit that well with me, and then we're into "Castaway", a deep thrumming bassline and the tale of a lost vessel found at sea. Sprightly accordion and uptempo drumming raises the pitch somewhat, as Kristofferson compares the drifting, empty boat to his life:
"Like a ship without a rudder/ I'm just driftin' closer to the brink". Hmm.
Some high-strung steel guitar opens "My heart was the last one to know" but it's back to the slow, maddeningly slow songs that drag like someone making their way through quicksand. It's all very depressing I have to say. Of course, you're not going to pick up an album with a title like "Feeling mortal" without expecting to hear some songs about death or the contemplation of death, but hell, the guy's only 77: many artistes are still gigging at 80 and more, and there's no reason to think the end is night just yet, Kris. "The one you choose" is another cautionary tale, a bit more sprightly at least with some uptempo guitar and a vocal that's a little more upbeat, a melody not a million miles removed from Olivia Newton-John's "Country roads, take me home". For some reason, he sees a lot of humour in this song, grinning through it. Personally I don't get the joke, but there you go.
The closer is the only real uptempo song, but "Ramblin' Jack" is an annoying one to end on. I suppose it's semi-autobiographical; reminds me in places of Steve Earle's "Steve's last ramble" with boppy percussion, happy accordion and something to finally get the toes tapping, but it's a bit late for that by this point. If it's meant as a last "life ain't so bad" or "there's always something to live for", I'm afraid by now I'm far too depressed by what's gone before, and this album ain't gonna assail my ears once this review is done.
TRACKLISTING
1. Feeling mortal
2. Mama Stewart
3. Bread for the body
4. You don't tell me what to do
5. Stairway to the bottom
6. Just suppose
7. Castaway
8. My heart was the last one to know
9. The one you choose
10. Ramblin' Jack
Maybe I just don't get Kris Kristofferson's music. Maybe I just don't get the man. Maybe I have it completely wrong here. I'm the first to admit I know little about country music, but there are some artistes in that genre whose music I enjoy, and like I said earlier, this album epitomises everthing I dislike about country. If you were to play this to someone who was not a fan of country music, all you'd do is reinforce the idea they already have about the genre, and who could blame them? This is a terribly generic, almost forced record, that does not deserve to be this man's swan song, if indeed it is.
Now, where are my car keys? I think I hear hillbillies a-hollerin' in the distance...