In the era of mergers and acquisitions and Big Business’ constant move towards maximum efficiency, I forward the motion that the jam and improvisational music scene do the same, and streamline it’s efforts while raising it’s profile. For starters we’ll need a catchy slogan and a recognizable logo. We’ll let a talented writer determine the slogan- but as for the logo I think I can handle this one. How about a caricature of scene stalwart Warren Haynes? He’s undoubtedly the hardest workingman in show business- or at least this corner of it. He’s got his fingers in so many pies; he’s resorted to using his ten toes too.
I’m from Texas, reared and raised, and for the longest time I took pride in that fact. Now that my late 20’s allow for a new point of view (I hear it’s called retrospect), I have no idea why I felt there was a social cachet associated with my Lone Star roots. It was a great place to grow up, no doubt, but I don’t think I’ll return for much more than a temporary nostalgic stroll down memory lane.
Gov’t Mule reminds me of growing up in the best country in the 48 contiguous. Like the title of the recently released record Deja Voodoo suggests, I think I’ve been here before. After so many lessons I understand now the world isn’t made up entirely of sunshine and happy endings. There is struggle and there is sweat, and when you wake up tomorrow, there’s a little more of the same. Warren Haynes is the respected old-timer in a sleepy Southern town and shares his fountain of wisdom on nearly every track. “Bad Man Walking,” “About to Rage” and “Perfect Shelter” tell stories that are vague, yet substantial- offering sound advice, yet gloomy forecasts from what are certainly deeply personal experiences. As for the guitar work- it’s a lesson in virtuosity. And the back end thumps. This might be the finest rhythm section in the land, finally securing Andy Hess as fulltime bassist, and they’d prove their prowess in any back alley brawl.
At the same time though, the album highlights, and the band’s admirable qualities, are subtle and could get lost in casual ears. For some this may sound like just another bar band, delivering clichéd Southern doses. For others, like a friend from Alabama that joined me for a listening session, this album and the band, is sheer nirvana. You could tell by the eat shit grin, and the look in his eyes, The Mule were serving up something special. A full meal deal on a cafeteria tray, where you slide through line pointing at your favorite soul food. You don’t have to wait too long, pay too much, or worry about the sweet tea gone sour, cause there’s a boot flask waiting for you with something a bit stronger inside.
Deja Voodoo is a 64 box of crayons filled with only shades of blue, and Warren Haynes delivers them in a fashion no one on the scene matches. You can never go wrong with the blues.
