Loudon Wainwright III Albums (23)
'High Wide & Handsome: The Charlie Poole Project'
Release Date 8/18/2009
Tracks 30
Label 2nd Story Sound
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What The Critics Say
Charlie Poole (1892-1931) was a hard-living, plain-singing, banjo-picking raconteur, amateur baseball player, mill worker, boozer, and bootlegger whose name may not be as well known as, say, Jimmie Rodgers or the Carter Family, but who nonetheless helped define what country music later became. Poole's recordings for Columbia Records, with a group he called the North Carolina Ramblers -- he was born and resided in the state -- have probably never been heard even by most who set foot in the Country Music Hall of Fame (he has yet to be inducted), but for a relatively small cadre in the know, Poole is a giant. Loudon Wainwright III is one of the believers, and along with producer Dick Connette and a handful of collaborators (including Chaim Tannenbaum, David Mansfield, and Geoff Muldaur), Wainwright built this album around both old songs associated with Poole and new ones that help move the Poole story forward for today's world. Poole was not primarily a songwriter; he took what he heard elsewhere and bent it to his will. But he had an inimitable populist style, a whole lot of attitude and charisma, and the kind of sly humor that a sly humorist like Wainwright certainly can embrace. Of the 30 tracks spread across these two discs, all but nine were found among Poole's own, relatively small catalog. (Those who want to investigate should pick up the collection You Ain't Talkin' to Me: Charlie Poole and the Roots of Country Music.) Without attempting to replicate the acoustic string band sound of the '20s and early '30s, Wainwright gets to the heart of songs such as "I'm the Man Who Rode the Mule Around the World," "Moving Day" (with the Roches on background vocals), "The Letter That Never Came," and "Mother's Last Farewell Kiss," tunes that Poole waxed and which, in the hands of Wainwright, manage to open a window into the Depression-era life while remaining viable to contemporary ears. A sprightly "The Deal," known as "Don't Let Your Deal Go Down Blues" in Poole's hands, features the always mind-boggling mandolin playing of Chris Thile, and seemingly the entire Wainwright clan (including Rufus and Martha on "Only Old and in the Way") aids elsewhere. Loudon's new songs are intended not so much to conform to Poole's style (although they do that, too) as to embellish upon it. "Way Up in NYC" tells of the trip that Poole and his band took up north to the alien big city to cut records for Columbia, while "No Knees" finds him wondering -- presumably before it killed him -- what effect all the alcohol is having on him. The set's opening number and title track, "High Wide & Handsome," is another paean to living the high life that Poole probably would have endorsed. If even ten percent of those who hear Wainwright's tribute to this criminally under-recognized pioneer seek out the originals, then Wainwright will have accomplished his goal. Those who don't can just bask in some first-class Americana. ~ Jeff Tamarkin, All Music Guide
What The Critics Say
Wainwright may be best known to younger listeners as the father of Rufus and Martha, but he's no slouch in the songwriting department himself. Rufus undoubtedly gets some of his cynical humor and ironic attitude from his dad, who made a career out of sharply etched vignettes that often sound slight on first hearing, but reveal subtle levels of nuanced meaning on repeated listening. As the lyrics to 2001's Last Man on Earth and the instrumental tracks to 2007's Strange Weirdos proved, Wainwright's starting to show signs of maturity in his old age, and, in its own odd way, Recovery continues that trend. Produced by Joe Henry, his Strange Weirdos collaborator, Recovery revisits Wainwright's back catalog and finds new meaning in the tunes he wrote as a young man. Henry supplies the expected dark arrangements, while Wainwright delivers the old songs without the implied wink and smirk of his youth. "School Days," the first track on his first album, was a wise-assed ode to youthful excess, a backhanded compliment to his own genius. At 60, the lyrics still sting, but the tint of mortality he brings to the performance makes the song take on a whole new meaning, more poignant than celebratory. "Drinking Song" is a talking blues, here accented by spooky slide guitar and oddly accented percussion. Wainwright wails and wrings unexpected emotion from a lyric that was once played for laughs. "Be Careful There's a Baby in the House" sounds more chilling in the light of Wainwright's acknowledged failures as a parent. His cautionary tale of the tribulations of parenthood ring particularly true in hindsight. When he tells new parents: "if your 'I love you' is an I.O.U, don't expect to get a good deal" the words take on added weight. "Motel Blues" from Album II, an ode to sex with an underage groupie, now sounds more desperate than amusing. Its country arrangement fits the song's forlorn mood as it strips away the romance of life on the road. "Man Who Couldn't Cry" closes the album and still sounds trite and over the top with its litany of misfortunes and vaguely biblical references, one of the few tunes that hasn't improved with age. ~ j. poet, All Music Guide
'Strange Weirdos: Music from and Inspired by the Film Knocked Up'
Release Date 5/22/2007
Tracks 14
Label Concord
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What The Critics Say
Strange Weirdos: Music from and Inspired by the Film Knocked Up suffices as the soundtrack for Judd Apatow's 2007 summer comedy. Unlike so many recordings that are "music from and inspired by the film," this one actually serves as both a soundtrack and as Loudon Wainwright III's new album. Co-produced by Wainwright and Joe Henry, the album boasts an all-star cast that includes bassist David Pilch, Greg Leisz, Van Dyke Parks, Patrick Warren, Richard Thompson, and others. According to Apatow's liner notes, he saw Wainwright perform "Grey in L.A." and asked him to record a version without words. Wainwright, in London at the time, asked if he could use Thompson. Wainwright was also working on his own album with Henry and suggested him as a co-collaborator. The music from the songs on the album other than two songs, "Grey in L.A." and the album's second track, play as the beginning and end credits of the film. The rest of the songs were used with their lyrics stripped out as incidental music. So here are the songs that Wainwright and Henry cut, vocals and all. There are two covers on the set, Peter Blegvad's "Daughter," and Mose Allison's "Feel So Good." Henry contributed a couple of instrumentals in the atmospheric "Ypsilanti," and the gorgeous Parks and band ballad "Naomi." Wainwright also re-cut "Lullaby," a song from a 1973 album. He and Henry co-wrote "You Can't Fail M e Now," and the loose, raggedy blues "So Much to Do." Those are the mechanics. It's a two-for-one deal as a soundtrack and a new Wainwright album. As such, it's his best material in years; in more than a decade, actually. It's focused, adventurous, and alternately lush and to the bone. The band plays like a band, the songs have no extra baggage lyrically or musically, and walks many musical lines without ever crossing over into any one genre for too long. Wainwright's as wry as ever, but without the caustic bitterness that can plague some of his best work. Which is funny here, because it is genuine and reveals more of the artist's aesthetic personality than many of his more recent recordings do. In other words, Wainwright comes across as completely unmasked, and he's having the time of his life. The way these players interact together, even when it is with a string section who are none other than the Section Quartet, feels organic, inseparable from the body of the composition or the grain in the singer's voice. Strange Weirdos may have an outrageous title, but these songs are anything but. Check out the daytime reflections of "Valley Morning," where the protagonist watches, muses and reflects on love as all this goes on. In the song, the protagonist is on the edge, but he doesn't know of what. He's been torn up a bit by life fleeting by as his desperation turns to resignation: "...But life is a movie out here in the valley/What else were we thinking of?" In the wooly B-3 organ drenched gospel of "X or Y" is a sly reflection of childbirth and how acceptance of the gender of a child is all taken care of, so stress is useless, why worry? It's either gonna be a girl or a boy. It's hilarious and wise in its folksy way. Predetermination never sounded so useless or silly. Wainwright and Henry would probably both bristle at the term "poetic," but it's the only way to describe a love song that is as brutally honest and desperate as "You Can't Fail Me Now." With acoustic guitars, mandolin, piano and strings to a slow, shuffling Bellerose beat, Wainwright sings: "I lost the thread among the vines/And hung myself in story lines/That tell the tales I never would allow/God knows the name of every bird/That fills my angry words/But you know all my secret heart avows...We're taught to love, the worst of us/And mercy more than life, but trust me:/Mercy's just a warning shot across the bow/I live for yours/And You can't fail me now/I live for your mercy/And you can't fail me now." It's a prayer to the Beloved and a prayer from the bottom; from the wracked halls of brokenness that can shatter the human heart. To the skittering mandolin and strings, this plea for mercy isn't based on anything but the vulnerability that only intimacy can give us the permission to confess. Strange Weirdos is a small testament to the loopy, lopsided journey of love in life. In Wainwright's world here, love -- flawed, selfish, open, disillusioned, frightened and above all comical, no matter how complex or tragic it is -- is all there is, whether it be familial or romantic, or even ideological, it's what we have in the sum total: either too much, too little, or none at all. We either desire it with the core of our beings, or we wish to be out of it and walk away, or we are so fully in it we glimpse the secrets of the world. And it is so much more than we ever consider it to be because it is everything. Who would have thought that at this stage in his career, Wainwright (with help from a very empathetic co-producer in Henry whose contribution is not to be underestimated) would come up with a recording like this: a treasure chest of truly great songs that communicate so effortlessly. As an album, its seamless, uncluttered, and virtually flawless. ~ Thom Jurek, All Music Guide
'Here Come the Choppers'
Release Date 3/28/2005
Tracks 12
Label Evangeline
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What The Critics Say
Iconoclastic singer/songwriter Loudon Wainwright III has taken about all he's going to from the Los Angeles Police Department and their helicopter surveillance program that haunts the urban skies. Here Come the Choppers is another collection of witty, acerbic tunes about ancestry, death, the perverse state of the nation and its culture, love and loss, and of course the whirring birds of the L.A. night skies. Wainwright is accompanied here by guitarist Bill Frisell, bassist David Piltch, drummer Jim Keltner, and pedal and lap steel master Greg Leisz, who also plays mandolin and electric guitar on the set. This is the same band that played with Frisell on his stellar Good Dog, Happy Man album. But don't expect much of the pastoral, open sky mellowness with Wainwright up-front. True, the proceedings may be low-key in places, but they are always poignant, and often funny. However, the most rewarding song on the disc is an elegy to the late Mr. Rodgers called "Hank and Fred." It's a moving tribute to the man and his "neighborhood" and places him in his proper place in the American cultural sphere, juxtaposing the day he died with a trip to Hank Williams' grave. It may read perversely, but the song is a gem, and one of the finest Wainwright has ever written. Here Come the Choppers may not win the songwriter many new fans, but because of its consistency and terminal uniqueness, it will certainly keep his fan base coming back for more. ~ Thom Jurek, All Music Guide
What The Critics Say
So Damn Happy was Loudon Wainwright III's third live album, following 1979's A Live One and 1993's Career Moves (and not counting 1975's half-live Unrequited and 1998's collection of airchecks, BBC Sessions). Of its 17 songs, one, the autobiographical "Westchester County," first appeared on 1983's Fame and Wealth (and reappeared on Career Moves); another, "The Home Stretch," came from 1986's More Love Songs; four came from 1992's History; three from 1995's Grown Man; two from 1998's Little Ship; one, "Tonya's Twirls," from 1999's Social Studies; and five were new. (The Last Man on Earth, the album Wainwright was promoting on the January 2002 tour from which the performances were culled, was not tapped for any songs.) Performing at Largo in Los Angeles and at the Mystic Theater in Petaluma, CA, Wainwright was able to call upon a few key sidemen, David Mansfield, Richard Thompson, and Van Dyke Parks, for unobtrusive accompaniment, and his daughter Martha joined him in singing the caustic new song "You Never Phone." As usual, the material ranged from the touching to the hilarious, sometimes in the same tune. "Much Better Bets," the newly written leadoff track, was one of Wainwright's patented romantic laments. "Cobwebs," a request from the audience first heard on Grown Man and concerning that four-letter word starting with "L" so frequently used by the younger generation ("an audible pause," among other things, according to Wainwright), was a tongue-twister to which he couldn't get the lyrics straight, though the point was still made. And "Tonya's Twirls," though seemingly a topical song whose time had long since passed, continued to work whether one recalled Tonya Harding or not. Those were only the highlights of a disc that demonstrated Wainwright's wit was still sharp in his fourth decade of work. ~ William Ruhlmann, All Music Guide
'The Last Man on Earth'
Release Date 9/24/2001
Tracks 13
Label Evangeline
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What The Critics Say
In the years since his breakthrough masterpiece, History, Loudon Wainwright III has coasted on craftsmanship and loutish charm. The autobiographical tales of love and family on Grown Man and Little Ship bypassed the heart and gut in favor of the brain and funny bone. The themes were familiar; the emotions seemed played-out. What a difference suffering can make. Written after the death of his mother, Last Man on Earth is a brilliant return to form. It isn't as earthy or direct an album as History. Strings and doo wop background vocals occasionally adorn the arrangements, and Wainwright's phrasing has become fussy. He often insists on pronouncing two full words when a contraction would better suit the rhythm of the song. A mannered presentation, however, cannot cover up the depth of his soul-searching. The three opening songs ("Missing You," "Living Alone," and the ingenious "White Winos") add up to an exploration of loneliness as nuanced and poignant as any in popular music. The title track expands on the same sentiments, turning Wainwright's disdain of cell phones and the Internet into a commentary on isolation. And there could be no more appropriate ending to an album released in the wake of September 11, 2001, than the final lines of "Homeless": "Now I feel like I'm homeless/But I will be alright/I'll get through the days/I'll face down the night." It takes an exceptional artist to make an expression of personal sorrow seem relevant in a time of national crisis. Loudon Wainwright is an exceptional artist. ~ Daniel Browne, All Music Guide
What The Critics Say
Most of these topical songs were penned for National Public Radio on events of the day such as Tonya Harding, O.J. Simpson and the Y2K crisis. But rather than playing like Tom Lehrer (or worse (gasp), Mark Russell), they are invested with Wainwright's typical insight and biting wit. Sure, you'll laugh, but who else could make Jesse Helms seem such a tragic character with the refrain, "Jesse's favorite painting is the one of the clown/With the daisy in his hand and the tear rolling down." More classics from the dark genius. ~ Tim Sheridan, All Music Guide
What The Critics Say
Little Ship is another solid entry in Loudon Wainwright III's series of '90s records cataloguing his domestic travails. There are a few weak moments and a tendency to be a little cutesy, but these hardly derail the album, because Wainwright is a journeyman who knows how to write sturdy songs. His sharp eye for lyrical detail makes the household songs ring, which is the key to Little Ship: the pleasure is in the details, whether it's the lyrics or the melodies, and that's why it's a diary piece worth investigating. ~ Stephen Thomas Erlewine, All Music Guide
What The Critics Say
An album topped with wit and sharp humor, blended with a dash of railing vinegar, Grown Man, like all perceptive social satire, leaves you both laughing in recognition and crying in frustration at the human foibles it elucidates. Wainwright deals efficiently with all the standard preoccupations -- middle age ("The Birthday Present"), dependence ("Grown Man"), death ("That Hospital") -- but it are the odd twists that put the hair on Grown Man's chest. "Father Daughter Dialogue" gives his real-life daughter a free swing at his errant, vagabond minstrel ways as she sings the song's first half. "IWIWAL" skirts controversy, but the rockin' hoe-down is so good humored and ridiculously overblown ("I wish I was a Lesbian/I'd like to be a dyke/I would hang with k.d. lang/Mel Gibson take a hike/I think it would be nice to love someone who was alike") that the offended reaction of radicals on either end of the Gay Rights/Family Values tug of war would say far more about them than about Wainwright himself. "Housework" is a hilarious faux-country weeper from the perspective of a male abandoned to household chores while his wife parties ("And herein lies the rub: I even did the tub") -- and damn if the chorus doesn't curve in the trademark vocal style of his former spouse Kate McGarrigle -- it's the one moment Wainwright appears to turn the screw with an edge of malice. Then again, it may just be that there's more of the "real" Loudon Wainwright III in these songs than he's willing to let on. ~ Roch Parisien, All Music Guide
What The Critics Say
Following on the heels of History, Career Moves gave Loudon Wainwright III two of his best albums back to back. Career Moves captures Wainwright live at the Bottom Line in New York City, performing a sort of greatest-hits set and throwing in a few new songs as well. He goes through most of the concert alone with his guitar, bringing out multi-instrumentalists Chaim Tannenbaum and David Mansfield for a few numbers midway through the concert. The material here is universally strong, mixing satire and silliness with serious looks at Wainwright's personal life, his kids, his ex-wives, and his own life experiences. "Your Mother and I" is one of his greatest songs on one of his favorite topics, marital dissolution and its effect on children. "Tip That Waitress" should be in the repertoire of every struggling barroom musician. "The Acid Song" takes him over the top, and there is much laughter provided by songs like "Suddenly It's Christmas," "He Said She Said," and "T.S.M.N.W.A.," on which he bemoans the many ways his name has been misspelled through the years. There are also several examples of Wainwright's poignant, bittersweet, autobiographical balladeering, and reprises of 21-year-old classics like "The Swimming Song" and "The Man Who Couldn't Cry." The between-song patter and asides show Wainwright to be an entertaining standup comic, and the whole album provides lively evidence of his skills as a songsmith and live entertainer working an audience. ~ Jim Newsom, All Music Guide
