Jackie Greene Albums (5)
What The Critics Say
Some time before Jackie Greene released Giving Up the Ghost, he declared that he wanted a Top Ten hit. "I want a big song," he told an interviewer, adding "You're not a musician because you want to starve." There's no reason Greene shouldn't have that Top Ten, instead of wallowing in indie-land. His talents are manifold -- as a singer, songwriter, and multi-instrumentalist he's prodigiously gifted -- and he's even got the kind of heartthrob looks that serve to push units by artists with half of his abilities. But thus far that mainstream success has eluded him, and there's even been something of a backlash against him among the rockist cognoscenti, a rarity for an artist who has yet to truly break out. Giving Up the Ghost illustrates both why some are skeptical and why others can't seem to lavish enough praise on him. Giving Up the Ghost follows three albums for the small Dig label and one for the larger Verve Forecast, and like those others, it's got riches to spare. Greene's writing has become more complex, both emotionally and structurally, without becoming verbose. He's meticulous and broad in his scope, drawing from numerous streams without being derivative: he has been compared to many of the greats (yes, even Bob Dylan and Bruce Springsteen), but those comparisons are neither fair nor necessary -- Greene can stand on his own. Working here with co-producer Steve Berlin of Los Lobos, Greene elevates his new material into something super-sized -- not in a bloated, grandiose way, but rather as music that presents itself as important. And that is both its greatest attribute and where it runs into problems. There is no denying that Giving Up the Ghost feels just a tad dishonest, that its makers took perfectly mature, well-crafted songs and overcooked them in the studio with the aim of prepping and Greene-ing them for 20,000-seat arenas. Berlin reaches for the sky when there is no need to, at times actually overshadowing the intricacies of the songs; often the production approaches bombastic. That's not to say that Greene should aim lower: some of these songs, notably the delicate "Prayer for Spanish Harlem," the gutsy "Like a Ball and Chain," the forceful "Ghosts of Promised Lands," and "Animal" (which includes a bass solo by Phil Lesh, with whom Greene has performed numerous times as a member of Phil Lesh & Friends), invite close listening and even study -- not because they are dense but because he's such a literate, smart writer that his music requires more than a cursory listen. That he can at times boil over into the obtuse and wordy is also true, however. On "Uphill Mountain," on which Greene name-checks the likes of Big Joe Turner and John Henry for no apparent reason, he sings, "Sometimes it gets a little rough like the wheel's made of steel going an uphill mountain/Better stand tall if you're gonna stand at all and if you're gonna fall, well you might as well fall." It's evocative, it invites pondering, and it's richly imagistic -- great qualities for any song, just maybe not for one that aims for the Top Ten. Greene can find the balance he wants, but he hasn't yet. There is potential greatness here, just as there has been since Greene was first introduced earlier in the decade, but Greene would have to dumb down to reach the sort of mass audience that creates a Top Ten single, and it would be a shame if he did. Already, there are signs here, in the occasionally overambitious production, that he's willing to do that, but if he can just be himself, keep making music that is true to his heart and stop worrying about becoming the toppermost of the poppermost (as those Fab Four guys once put it), his audience will surely find him. ~ Jeff Tamarkin, All Music Guide
What The Critics Say
American Myth is singer/songwriter Jackie Greene's true debut for the Verve Forecast label. Sweet Somewhere Bound, issued in 2005, was actually recorded for the Dig Music label (where his previous albums appeared) in 2004 and licensed by Universal. American Myth is a much more complex affair than anything he's done previously. The list of players is impressive: from Davey Faragher and Peter Thomas to Greg Leisz and Steve Berlin (who did a fine job producing this set), to name a few. This is the collection that should finally dispel those pesky Bob Dylan comparisons. Greene has grown into his American roots style honestly -- by becoming a better musician. And while there are those fans who would claim that his lyrics may have suffered, his craft as a songwriter has improved immeasurably. "Hollywood" will be the novelty single because of its swaggeringly infectious blues hook, but "So Hard to Find My Way," with its shimmering B3, horns creating a loose, good-time groove underscored by a warm bass line, a strolling banjo, Greene's dobro, and his deft lyrical imagery, all of which make for a better tune. His changeup is fine, too, as evidenced by "Just as Well," which comes immediately after with its introspective acoustic guitar and the dobro and hand percussion intro. This is the kind of summery sidewalk tune that the guys in Sugar Ray would have killed to have written. The accordion fills and Greene's voice, which is so utterly cool and in the pocket, captures and captivates the listener. "Love Song 2 A.M." is beautifully evocative without being drenched in sentimentality. "I'm So Gone," is a snaky, hoodoo, traveling song that reflects in full-band form what Greene does in his solo live shows to stunning effect. The guitars by Greene and Val McCallum have teeth. The open-country feel of "When You're Walking Away" (especially with Leisz's lap steel) is offset by its heartbreaking lyrics. The R&B/soul drench in "Closer to You," struts in a barroom-sexy way, which is really interesting when it's bookended on one side by the hard-wired blues of "Cold Black Devil/14 Miles," and the pure acoustic, drifting love poetry of "I'll Let You In" on the other. What it adds up to is that Greene can write any damned thing he wants to and has the heart to pull it all off. Indeed he may be losing the street cred part of the "wandering troubadour" stereotype on American Myth, but as he's shedding that skin he's becoming something more mercurial: a deft, hard-to-pigeonhole American songwriter. Greene is doing this musical vocation thing the right way; he's growing and maturing as he goes, becoming more precise and developing a bigger channel for his muse to sing through. ~ Thom Jurek, All Music Guide
'Sweet Somewhere Bound'
Release Date 7/20/2004
Tracks 13
Label DIG Music
See Album Tracklist and Review
What The Critics Say
Jackie Greene continued to expand his base as one of the more interesting new roots-based singer/songwriters of the early 2000s on Sweet Somewhere Bound, although the compositions were of varying quality. Certainly the best of them were satisfying, and had a wider range than many similar artists working in similar territory. His vocals had a lived-in earthiness, and his arrangements blended folk, roots rock, country, Americana, and bit of the blues without particularly favoring any certain combination. The lyrical themes do tread on some of the same areas common to singer/songwriters of the style: restless urges to escape the mundane grind he sees his community settling into, story-songs and character sketches about troubled souls, and a lament for a death of someone close to him ("Emily's in Heaven"). The Bob Dylan comparisons that have come up in some coverage of his work are still here, particularly in his spontaneous yet accomplished harmonica work, but not so overwhelmingly that Greene's own persona is subsumed. He really whoops it up in the jovial prison song "About Cell Block #9" -- one of the set's highlights -- but for the most part it's a more contemplative record, concerned about the state of things but not quite discouraged. Some of those songs skirt the more routine clichés of weary-gazing roots music, but "Miss Madeline (3 Ways to Love Her)" in particular is haunting enough to rise above such pitfalls. ~ Richie Unterberger, All Music Guide
What The Critics Say
With an unforced comfort unusual among new, young artists on small indie labels, 21-year-old Jackie Greene offered an impressive batch of above-average Americana roots rock on this 2002 release. There's a world-weariness to his songs that might not seem fully earned given his age. But he sounds like he's feeling the emotions authentically enough, with a voice that blends country, rock, folk, and a bit of blues with as much ease as his music does. There's some early Dylan in that mix, and like Dylan, he plays both guitar and harmonica. But he seems like he's having more fun and passion than most budding artists following that path, even if the lyrics talk of hard traveling, dead ends, and hard-luck stories peopled by characters redeemed by their fortitude. In that sense, he can sometimes sound a little like a sweeter-voiced Bruce Springsteen, though one plugged closer to folk sources than Springsteen is. A cut like "Down in the Valley Woe" gets close to the kind of old-time-rooted folk music you might have heard by some of the better early-'60s folk revivalists and singer/songwriters. Yet when he fills out his music with a bigger ensemble, songs like "Cry Yourself Dry" sound much like vintage material by the Band. Like a lot of artists who have generated ballpark comparisons to the aforementioned musicians, Greene had some work to do to establish himself as an original talent on par with those legends. But this was a good start, more assured and enjoyable than plenty of early 21st century Americana-indie rock artists with bigger reputations. ~ Richie Unterberger, All Music Guide
