Peter Case
"Let Us Now Praise Sleepy John" (Yep Roc)
Peter Case
"Let Us Now Praise Sleepy John" (Yep Roc)
* * * 1/2
Luther Russell
"Repair" (Ungawa/Adrenaline Music Group)
* * *
If Peter Case were writing a tune about the paths that he and fellow Los Angeles singer Luther Russell have traveled, this Woody Guthrie devotee might portray them as railroad tracks that converge and then split apart, only to circle back together in unlikely confluence.
If Russell were to do the same, it would more likely be an impressionistic, metaphorical contemplation of time and fate.
No matter how you frame it, longtime followers of Los Angeles rock will find a cosmic connection in the fact that these two have albums out the same day (Tuesday) and are playing separate shows the same night (Saturday) to mark the occasion.
Case and Russell represent successive generations in the city's music scene, with Case's band the Plimsouls bringing a British Invasion dash and urgency to the new wave of the early '80s, and Russell's Freewheelers emerging in the early '90s with a sound that ranged from heartland anthems to soul-inflected folk-rock. (In the first instance of common history, both released albums on Geffen Records, though nearly a decade apart.)
Since his solo debut in 1986, Case has become a revered figure in the contemporary folk world, and his 10th solo album takes him back to the basics. The collection, whose title references the great bluesman Sleepy John Estes, is a stripped-down, mainly acoustic affair, with producer Ian Brennan taking the kind of immediate, let-it-roll approach he did on Ramblin' Jack Elliott's recent "I Stand Alone."
It's very much in the spirit of Guthrie, with Case lashing out vehemently at injustice -- the "Million Dollar Bail" that sprung Phil Spector (who isn't named but is clearly the subject of the song), corporate treachery, the plight of the homeless. He also describes the allure and demands of the vagabond life, with a focus and a ragged-voiced authenticity that makes you feel every bump in the road.
Russell adopted a similar solo troubadour stance on his last album, in 2001, and on "Repair" he plays a few traditional figures that intersect with Case's music. But on this fourth solo outing he primarily follows folk into its pop permutations, with Beatles-shaded arrangements supporting his warm, sympathetic voice.