(album, Play It Again Sam)
What’s not to like about Steven Gene Wold? His earthy charm, homemade instrumentation and blistering blues workouts have delighted dadrockers everywhere, making him very much the darling of the post-White Stripes generation. Indeed, it’s fitting that this, his fifth studio album has been issued in the US on Third Man, as it could reasonably be argued that Jack White kicked open the door marked ‘Authentic Blues Popularism’, through which Steve burst half a decade ago.
Indeed, with the White Stripes now a fond memory, it appears as if the baton for popularizing roots blues has been passed to a previous generation. Like his previous two major-release albums, You Can’t Teach An Old Dog New Tricks hits its peaks when Steve cuts loose – which he does to devastating effect on the priapic southern-fried bass-driven boogie of the title track, and also on the visceral shit-kickin’ slide workout ‘Don’t Know Why She Love Me But She Do’ and the irresistible bottleneck barnstormer ‘Back In The Doghouse’.
Much has been made of this album’s augmentations by Led Zep four string deity John Paul Jones, and although its true to say that his contributions add spellbinding pulses of megalithic throb to the mix, there’s plenty more breadth and depth to the disc. The low key intimacy of opener ‘Treasures’ gets the album off to a deceptively restrained start, and the atmospheric use of reverb adorns the down-home shuffle of ‘Burnin’ Up’ like a cherry on a pie.
As ever, much of the key to Steve’s appeal lies in his direct simplicity – especially in regard to his acoustic instrumentalism, showcased aptly on the evocative banjo driven lament of ‘Underneath A Blue And Cloudless Sky’, and also with the stockyard finger-picking that graces ‘Have Mercy On The Lonely.’ His vocals are equally engaging, again demonstrating that Seasick has a range that goes from an early hours whisper to a full throated canyon-spanning holler. Drummer Dan Magnusson is also along for the ride, pulling more than his weight and adding some artful improvisation to the suitably liquid blues of ‘Whiskey Ballad’, which emerges as an upbeat, morning after, bottom-of-the-bottle drinking song.
Lyrically, Steve explores lost love, plights his troth, evokes the great outdoors and – perhaps most effectively – provides a righteous dismissal of wage slave materialism on the expansive ‘What A Way To Go’. Despite such weighty conceptualism, Seasick is a goodtime owlhoot, and this is demonstrated with no little vigour on ‘Party’ – a grinding blues hoedown/hymn to hedonism that features some of his trademark slide mastery.
You Can’t Teach An Old Dog New Tricks finishes on two suitably valedictory notes; ‘Days Gone’ is an intermittently explosive ‘It’s later than you think’ homily, while the closing ‘It’s A Long, Long Way’ sets us down at journey’s end by means of a ruminative reflection enhanced by the wisdom of his six decades and topped by choral backing and an engaging moonshine fiddle. Another winner.
