Loudon Wainwright III: Recovery

Time changes nearly everything. It changes people, circumstances, perspectives, and thus, can even change the meaning behind words. It might take 10 days or 100 years, but it happens inevitably and often old words can blossom with new meaning and understanding. Loudon Wainwright III’s 2008 record Recovery is, among other things, a study of this phenomenon. Wainwright teams up again with producer Joe Henry with whom he collaborated on 2007’s Knocked Up soundtrack titled Strange Weirdos, and together they have selected a batch of songs from Wainwright’s first three albums (and one song from his fourth) from the 1970s and re-interpreted them thirty-five years later. Don’t be fooled though, this is not a greatest hits record nor is it an easy way to make a little money–it is Wainwright taking the same words and music that he wrote in his twenties and filling them with new meaning and new beauty as he records them again in his sixties.

One of the main differences in these songs is that they now feature a backing band while originally most of them featured only voice and guitar. The same players, along with the talented producer Joe Henry, are back from the Strange Weirdos sessions and its a good thing because this is a talented group of musicians. Patrick Warren on keyboards, David Piltch plays bass, Jay Bellerose on the drums, and Greg Leisz plays the guitar. These guys are responsible not only for the great performances on Strange Weirdos but also on Joe Henry’s own staggeringly good 2007 record, Civilians (on which Wainwright provides backing vocals) and other projects. In other words, this group has logged quite a few hours in the studio together and it shows here–they are all on the same page. As great as the band is, this still remains very much a singer-songwriter record–after all, that’s who Wainwright is. Although, the performances in the background are complex and beautiful, they remain where they are–in the background and they never detract from Wainwright’s voice and guitar. However, the person who is really responsible for this balancing act is Henry. There is at least one really good reason for Wainwright to work with Joe Henry again: no one in his lengthy career has ever made him sound better. Certainly, Wainwright’s other work is enjoyable, but with Recovery he and Henry hit their second home run in as many years.

Musically, these songs still feel very folk-y, but the band assist in providing some country-rockin’ moments on ”Black Uncle Remus” and some bluesy elements to “Muse Blues” which is probably the most well-written song on the subject of writer’s block. Some country-infused guitar work shows up all over the place, notably on “New Paint” and “Be Careful There’s A Baby In The House” adding some welcomed musical variety to Recovery. The band adds great depth and beauty to these songs by fleshing them out and exploring the full potential of their melodies. However, the real treasure in these tunes comes from the transformation in the spirit and meaning of each of these songs. Gone is the arrogant twenty-something folk singer with a smirk on his face, there is a now a much older man with a lifetime of scars–be they from broken romances, tumultuous relationships with his children, the death of his mother, or simply the pain of aging (all of which he has sung about elsewhere). He voice is deeper now (but sounding better than ever as he can still belt it out and grab those high notes) and its filled with an emotional tenderness that has been building over the years and has reached near-perfection here. Henry and Wainwright carefully selected the songs for this project and it shows–almost every track bursts with a wealth of new meaning this time around and it is a  real treat for the listener.

When Wainwright sings about his loneliness and a desperate attempt at wooing a fan to his motel room in “Motel Blues”, we hear something in his voice–something that wasn’t there all those years ago–perhaps its a knowledge of where these situations will go and how they will end–but it also sounds an awful lot like regret. He sings: ”There’s a Bible in the drawer, don’t be afraid…never mind them desk clerks’ scowls/I’ll buy you breakfast, they’ll think you’re my wife…Oh, come up to my motel room and save my life.” There isn’t a nudge or a wink this time, but almost a sense of lament. Wainwright has frequently and plainly sung about his poor parenting in other songs which patently add new meaning and layers to “Be Careful There’s A Baby In The House.” The song “Saw Your Name In The Paper” which he undoubtedly wrote about himself and his own father, now carries fresh significance as his musical children, Rufus and Martha, are probably more well-known than their father. Wainwright realizes this and sings it accordingly. It’s moments like these throughout the record that really cause Recovery to mesmerize.

Wainwright’s albums have always included moments both poignant and hilarious and Recovery is no different. On “Drinking Song” (which boasts a spectacular drum beat by Mr. Bellerose) he provides some rather humorous descriptions of those given to the bottle: “Drunks talk strong when drunks are weak/It’s easy for a drunk to speak, straight from the heart/Yeah, drunks will fight they’re not afraid…It’s a manly art.” And yet the song carries with it some emotional resonance–at the end when he begins to sing and shout while reaching (and hitting) those high notes he sings: “Drunks get drunk and so it seems/drunkards go to great extremes/but there has yet to be a perfectly straight line” and for whatever mysterious reason, it sends chills up the spine. Does the chill come from the words? the voice? or some deep feelings bursting forth from Wainwright himself? It’s impossible to know for sure, but its probably a mixture of all three.

On “Movies are a Mother to Me”, Wainwright sings: “Sometimes I am my own enemy/sometimes my own enemy-it’s me/My enemy and me, we go see a good movie/And we come out friends again/Yeah, there’s nothing like the silver screen to patch things up and intervene/To bridge the gap that lies between Loudon and himself.” In a way, that is an appropriate description of what Wainwright does on this album. He is bridging the gap between himself as a young man and as an older man–he isn’t doing it through cinema, but through songs. Wainwright isn’t trying to completely change these songs–to do that would be to dishonor that twenty-something up-and-coming folk singer that wrote them and it doesn’t seem that he wants to do that–yet, its hard not to compare these songs with their originals and see the marked improvements in all of them. What Wainwright is doing is recovering them, making them better, fleshing them out, giving them new life and new meaning. At the same time, on another level, there seems to be a conversation between an older man and a younger man taking place on Recovery. Wainwright has aged and has learned many life lessons–its this wisdom that he implicitly shares with a younger, less experienced version of himself, as if warning him about troubles and trials that lie ahead–the listener gets to hear this conversation–and it is nothing short of brilliant.

Loudon Wainwright III
Recovery
Yep Roc, 2008
Rating: 4.0/5.0