|
|
|
|
|
A D V E R T I S E M E N T
|
|
|
|
A D V E R T I S E M E N T
|
|
Hayes Carll
By Jeff Prince
Anti-cloning activists have somehow overlooked the fact that Texas Music has been churning out Steve Earle duplicates for the past dozen years. You can spot them by the slouch, scowling grin, and over-twangified pronunciations (“mean” becomes “muh-ay-een”; “standing” is “stuh-hand-uh-in”). Not everyone can be Steve Earle II, but a bunch of ’em are vying for the title, subconsciously or not. Of course, this can be a positive negative — artists who pull it off can be as good and occasionally better than the master. One of Outlaw’s newest word-slingers is the rumpled, mischievous, funny, and unassuming Hayes Carll. Sure, he waltzes dangerously close to the spirit of Steve on occasion, yet with only two albums to his name he has carved out his own identity and stepped square in the middle of the Texas Music wading pool, where guys like Charlie Robison, Jack Ingram, and Roger Creager dangle their grungy toes. Carll’s 2002 debut, Flowers and Liquor, established him as a wordsmith with an attitude, and his newest — the self-released Little Rock — quickly climbed to the top of the Americana Music Association’s radio chart. Sometime in the future, people will be bragging about seeing Hayes Carll on a patio in downtown Fort Worth for free, and young musicians will be trying to sound like Hayes Carll II.
Sat at Dan’s Silverleaf, 103 Industrial, Denton. 940-320-2000. Wed, June 1, at 8.0, 111 E Third St, FW. 817-336-0880.
Email this Article...
