Chris Smither - Time Stands Still

Fingerpickin' Goodness

Ahead of seeing the great American folk blues singer/songwriter and fingerpicking expert Chris Smither next week, I'll comment on his last release Time Stands Still from 2009 [there is a live collection Lost and Found, 2011, available only at gigs so I hope to get mine next week too].

I came across Smither relatively recently, and picked for my Top Fifty his twofer that combines his brilliant first two albums I'm A Stranger Too and Don't It Drag On [1970/1971] - the folk oriented and beautifully played  songs very much in the more British tradition of John Martyn, Bert Jansch and Steve Tilston. His later work, and this album, reflect the blues tradition and have seen his earlier warbling voice drop towards a rougher baritone. Opening track Don't Call Me A Stranger is an electric foot-stomping dirt blues with Smither declaring with simple honesty I ain't evil/I'm just bad. The title track picks up the pace on the foot tapping and has Smither in more familar fingerpicking acoustic mood. Third Surprise Surprise is a rock'n'roll blues that tackles our world economy with banks are failin'/you start wailin' and surprise surprise the money's gone blunt reality - and there's some comic mockery of those turning to religion to look for another kind of failed bail-out! Smither's self-penned songs, all but 3 of the 11 on this album, are worldly wise and played with little extraneous interference - the guitar and voice authority all that is needed to carry such effective ideas and tunes.

My favourite on this album is one of the three covers, Dylan's It Takes A Lot To Laugh, It Takes A Train To Cry. I know I like this because it reflects the earlier Smither that I do so adore, and here the guitar playing is in his folk mode, and it reminds me of the the sliding fret-work [not slide guitar] and softer wavering vocal of Time To Go Home from I'm A Stranger Too, though there are many songs from those first two albums that have this signature sound. Another gem is the slow blues Old Man Down, a meloncholic reflection with 'ambient guitar' adding to the plaintive tone about the death of his dad: it's time to lay the old man down.