Cory Branan’s The No-Hit Wonder is a bracing reminder of what a superb songwriter and performer he is. A Tennessee native who records on the Chicago indie label Bloodshot, Branan comfortably wraps himself in a patchwork Americana quilt that’s equal parts roots rock, bluesy folk and hard-core country, with colorful bits and pieces of everything else from rockabilly to bluegrass to Tex-Mex to gypsy jazz and more. In other words, a true American original.
The title song “The No-Hit Wonder” might be mistaken as autobiographic, but it’s really an homage to the dozens, even hundreds of American bands out there who have solid local, regional and even national followings but rarely anything that could be called a hit. I think of bands like Glossary, Lucero, Richmond Fontaine and Two Cow Garage, but you could enter your own examples here. The song has a driving punk beat and crunchy Uncle Tupelo-style power chords, and Craig Finn and Steve Selvidge of the indie band The Hold Steady provide backing vocals.
Jason Isbell, who had a break-out album with 2013’s Southeastern, sings along on a couple of these songs, including the opening track “You Make Me,” a shuffling rocker that’s hummable and danceable. “Missing You Fierce” is another driving country rocker in the same vein, with an occasional intrusion of some distorted punk-like guitar during the instrumental bridge.
Here’s a pretty creative video for “You Make Me.”
I guess I’d add Slobberbone to the list of no-hit wonders being referenced here. “Daddy Was A Skywriter” is a fast-paced Texas two-step that at base is bluegrass but that draws on Texas country and folk, complete with accordion. “The Highway Home” is the obligatory “life on the road” song. It reveals Branan’s Heartbreakers fandom while adding the lonely pedal steel of Robbie Turner to the mix. “Sour Mash” is a fun take on the Sun Studios sound with high-reverb slap bass, chugging guitars and some killer electric picking.
My favorites, though, are the ones that showcase Branan’s more eclectic tastes. He has a penchant for stylistic forays that wouldn’t have been out of place on the albums of some of the early singer-songwriters of the late ‘60s and early ’70s. “C’mon Shadow,” for instance, could be a page cribbed from the Leon Russell “Hank Wilson”-era songbook. It’s a jaunty bit of ukulele-driven folk with lots of honky-tonk piano jangle, full of clever lyrics, self-deprecating humor and internal rhymes. “All I Got And Gone” with accordion and pedal steel, is a slice of French cafe blues crossed with pure country. Branan’s rough drawl, the evocative lyrics and hooky refrain call to mind the young Kristofferson.
The album’s closer “The Meantime Blues” is fingerpicked country folk with shades of Guy Clark and everybody else who ever picked up a guitar and sang a sad, clever song, from Van Ronk to Van Zandt. The song, which is about the fickle finger of inspiration and how to fit the songwriter’s life into family life, is full of clever wordplay and uneven rhyme schemes in of couplets like “The stacks of old bills, the mounting molehills, I dread / It’s hard work keeping the roof offa your head.”
I really like the production on this record, too. There’s nice separation between the guitars (there’s usually at least one acoustic and one electric), the drums and bass driving the rhythm are close to the fore, and the other accompaniment is just that. And the recording beautifully captures Branan’s craggy, accomplished vocals.
I dropped a lot of names in this review. That’s not because Cory Branan is derivative, and I hope it’s not a sign of laziness on my part. I truly believe that Branan has earned the comparisons.His latest album The No-Hit Wonder deserves to be, well, a hit.
Bloodshot, 2014