The sub-genre of alt-country has always seemed a
fitful and inadequate label for the music it contains. Although part of this
tension stems from corralling very different bands and artists, some of this
friction appears to come from within these bands themselves. Two of the most
influential alt-country bands, Uncle Tupelo and Whiskeytown, not only defined
(and defied) the sub-genre during their relatively brief tenures, but also
balanced, however tenuously, the wills of two strong voices and artistic
visions. With Uncle Tupelo’s collapse, Jeff Tweedy began the ever expanding,
genre-confounding project of Wilco, while Jay Farrar refined his take on
Americana with Son Volt. Upon Whiskeytown’s dissolution, Ryan Adams’ voracious
creative appetite launched a lucrative solo career almost as prolific as it is
inconsistent, while Caitlin Cary’s willingness to continue forging fruitful
collaborations has yielded a handful of solo albums and side-projects that have
enriched the state of modern independent country music. Cary’s 2005 album with
Thad Cockrell, Begonias, serves as an
excellent example of her post-Whiskeytown work by delivering a timeless set of
songs about the rougher, sadder side of love.
Cary and Cockrell’s success on this album
derives from how beautifully their partnership cuts through the drama and mixed
messages that often accompany alt-country music. In many ways, this album is an
unapologetically old fashioned country record featuring great musicians
ruminating on heartache and heartbreak and having a good time while doing so.
In Thad Cockrell, Cary finds a highly compatible voice, a like-minded
songwriting partner, and a skilled performer adept at the kind of role-playing
these songs encourage. The album breaks out confidently with a trio of great
songs that each address the central theme: the inevitable imbalance that occurs
when love doesn’t play out the way you were hoping. A nearly mathematical logic
presides over these three songs and establishes the album’s focus on those who
come out on the losing side of love’s equations. Following an enticing acoustic
guitar flourish, “Two Different Things” eases into a medium tempo as Cockrell
gently opens the narrative of a lover slowly coming to accept that his relationship
no longer matches his desires. After joining Cockrell for the chorus, Cary
takes the next verse and assures us that neither lover in this union feels any
satisfaction. As both characters open up about their love failing to meet their
expectations, the bitter-sweet tone folds into a wordless chorus showing off
how beautifully these two can sing together. “Something Less Than Something
More” features Cary in the lead role and introduces a tone of melancholy
directly into the album by way of a distant, plaintive pedal steel guitar
performance and Cockrell’s haunting backup vocal. Cary’s speaker engages in a
similar kind of introspection as the previous song, but this time her
loneliness echoes as she alone wonders whether she’s fooling herself. Rounding
out the trio of openers, “Second Option” teases through a brief intro of a
loping drum beat accented by a meandering organ part before kicking into gear
as the album’s most rocking number. The song’s energy and drive fit nicely with
the speaker’s defiance toward an indecisive lover. Cockrell takes the lead here
and gives the song a strong sense of independence and hard-earned self-worth.
Saving the best nearly for last, “Conversations About A Friend (Who’s in Love
with Katie)” runs nearly twice as long as the other songs, but uses this time
wisely to tell the story of one lover leaving another for new opportunities.
Highlighting Cary and Cockrell’s considerable chemistry as both singers and
storytellers as well as the remarkable talents of their band, “Conversations
About A Friend” breathes life into both the beleaguered genre of country and
the contentious sub-genre of alt-country.
For all of the stories about losing in love
contained in this collection, Begonias
is anything but a downer. Modern perspectives on love, relationships, and human
psychology shape these updated takes on the archetypal country song about a
broken heart. Yes, these songs focus on loneliness, loss, rejection, and
longing, but a strong sense of hope and survival holds the album together. The
unwillingness to give up showcased in these songs resonates nicely with Cary’s
career after Whiskeytown. After forming a critically acclaimed, ground-breaking
band that broke up just as they were beginning to hit it big, Cary has survived
creatively by establishing rewarding partnerships like this one and her group
with Lynn Blakey and Tonya Lamm, Tres Chicas. Cary’s solo career stands apart
from her former band-mate’s as well as those of her peers from Uncle Tupelo
because she has returned to the origins of country music instead of viewing it
as just a launching point. Begonias
pulls off the nifty feat of enlivening the essential virtues of country music
while at same time demonstrating that there is life (and love) after
alt-country.
-John Parsell
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