With The Good Life, its third CD release, Railroad Earth may have revealed itself as the best acoustic jam band of its generation. Sometimes described as "psychedelic bluegrass " RRE deftly blends traditional bluegrass with solid eastern seaboard folk sensibilities and a willingness to work without a net. The result is often spectacular.
Veteran multi-instrumentalists, mature song craft, solid melodies and a clear chemistry between players helped this New Jersey sextet burst into prominence with the jaw-dropping debut Black Bear Session, followed by 2002's Bird in the House, a document of the band's continuing evolution that showcases front man Todd Sheaffer's skills as vocalist and principal songwriter.
After coming off the road in 2003, Railroad Earth retired to the studio last winter to record an album of completely new material. Calling in former Roches producer Stewart Lerma, the band set to the task. In the end they produced a powerful, intriguing work that builds on RRE's core strengths and hints at a broader stylistic palette to come.
Sheaffer's work tends toward the optimistic, an attractive quality in these unsettled times, and the opening tune, "Storms," makes its unabashed case for faith in the future powered by Johnny Grubb's driving bass lines. Andy Goessling's nimble banjo and Tim Carbone's sinuous fiddle meet briefly here, a foretaste of their full-tilt duels later on in the record's 'grassier tracks.
No review of The Good Life is complete without a prominent mention of Goessling, the band's master of stringed and wind-powered things. In addition to banjo, he contributes mandolin resophonic guitar, acoustic guitar, flute, pennywhistle, saxophone and vocals. In "Said What You Mean," Andy's slide work completely dominates the melody with fluid grace and achingly poignant fills. In the next track, "Way of the Buffalo," a neo-ecofreek giggler, he adds a drunken dobro to the tune's general inebriation.
The band widens its range a bit with "Mourning Flies," a somber meditation played with a dark urgency relieved by lyrics’ steadfast faith. There's a nod to traditional folk themes with "Long Way to Go," a direct descendent of Woodie Guthrie's "I've Been Everywhere." "Water Fountain Quicksand," mandolinist John Skehan's composition, reasserts Railroad Earth's mastery of the familiar acoustic territory.
These tunes, as satisfying and enjoyable as they are, really serve as bookends to a pair of stunning songs, title track "The Good Life" and the sweetly sentimental "In the Basement." "The Good Life" leaps off the disc into the air propelled by Carey Harmon's calypso-inflected drumming and Johnny Grubb's ear-catching bass hook. Tim Carbone's fiddle is in flight throughout the tune, sliding through gaps in the notes you didn't even know were there, while the mandolin filigrees the melody with brilliant pinpoints like stars on a moonless mountain night. The song, a touching romantic allegory, is an example of Todd Sheaffer's most impressive artistic gift: he's a wonderful narrator for the sort of tiny stories that can unfold into elaborate cathedrals of meaning within the listener's mind. "The Good Life" skillfully uses a series of vignettes to depict small scenes that gradually clarify one couple's retreat from an inhospitable society to a simpler, shared life and love.
"In the Basement" follows, a collaboration between Sheaffer and John Skehan. Perhaps semi-autobiographical, the lyrics describe a boy's journey toward manhood, using his hobby of model airplanes as the measure of time. In a scene from Johnny's early life, he's "putting glue and wood together, as the plane is taking flight," a flight Johnny shares in one eternal moment with his father, "guiding it through". At mid-tune, he's grown to his talent, "putting notes together, and the tune is taking flight" while the model flyers, suspended from the ceiling, gather dust. The circle closes, though, as the music "soars and lands on the flyers that remain." Skehan's prominent mandolin is supported by graceful fiddle runs and RRE's solid rhythm section. Sheaffer's flexible vocals deliver the words with just the proper amount of nostalgia. The result is a powerful evocation of memory, recollections of the times when we all could fly.
This latest Railroad Earth recording succeeds on many levels. The band has capitalized on its unique mix of talents, skills and personalities and now seems to be firmly in control of its artistic ethic. The record hints at an evolving contemporary style that maintains acoustic integrity, a heartening thing when so many others have chosen smoke pots and synthesizers over the simple power of a clean melody and elegant lyrics. As The Good Life proves, nobody understands this better than Railroad Earth.