—Every Mother's Son
With his debut, I’m a Stranger Too!, Chris Smither had already proven himself to be a rare combination — a Cambridge folkie with roots in New Orleans, a great writer who knows when to look elsewhere for material, a masterful guitarist who understands simplicity and a powerful singer with restraint. Released in 1972, Don’t It Drag On continues this mix and is every bit as good as its predecessor, maybe better.
Smither’s folk-blues have a soul and intelligence that mesh well with current covers by Bob Dylan, the Rolling Stones and the Grateful Dead, yet seems as ageless as Blind Willie McTell’s “Statesboro Blues” (also included here). Tracks such as “Another Way to Find You,” “I’ve Got Mine” and “Lonesome Georgia Brown” are as enduring as contemporary blues and folk get. And while the bulk of Smither’s material has a ruminative, melancholic tone, don’t expect typical singer/songwriter fare. There’s a maturity and depth to songs such as “I Feel the Same” (also recorded by Bonnie Raitt), “Every Mother’s Son” and the title cut that’s beyond that of most of his peers. Smither’s originals may not have the energy of “Statesboro Blues” or Dylan’s “Down in the Flood,” but there’s an easy, rolling assurance and plainspoken eloquence at work that more than make up for it. Smither went on to record one more album for Poppy, but was dropped by the label before its release. The record, Honeysuckle Dog, remained in the vaults for over 30 years before being issued in 2004. Don’t It Drag On, which was re-released in 1997 as part of a two-fer with his debut, I’m a Stranger Too!, would be his last until It Ain’t Easy in 1985.
Andrew Wyeth, The Clearing, 1979, private collection
—Spirit of Love
From Rising Storm Review:
Spirit of Love has a hymnal, rural English vibe that is more folk than folk-rock. Palmer’s vocals are very calm and soothing and this disc is completely acoustic in nature. Tracks like Music of the Ages and Serpent’s Kiss are simply spellbinding, sounding hundreds of years old and only getting better with the passage of time. Some of these songs have exotic instruments like the Harmonium and Dulcitone while the banjo instrumental Banjo land has unexpected ocean wave sound effects. At times, Palmer and company sound completely lost in space, as heard on the excellent Evening Air. But it’s this naive charm and willingness to sound different that makes Spirit of Love such a great, ancient folk album. Other tracks such as the beautiful Wade In The Water and When He Came Home seem to have biblical references within the lyrics and a strong gospel influence.
—Whipping Boy
“Long before recording as a solo artist in the 1970s, multi-instrumentalist Chris Darrow was a well-known musician and trusted sideman in Los Angeles’ tightly knit music scene. In 2009, Los Feliz CA-based Everloving Records is honored to reissue two classic Chris Darrow solo albums, 1973’s Chris Darrow and 1974’s Under My Own Disguise. Both titles were originally released via the United Artists label.
Proficient on guitar, bass, fiddle, violin, banjo, Dobro, lap steel and mandolin, Chris Darrow never actively sought employment as a musician, but the work always managed to find him. Even if you have never heard his name before, Darrow’s fingerprints remain in conspicuous corners of the public consciousness. His early career was spent playing in bluegrass combo The Dry City Scat Band with David Lindley, and fronting electric rock group The Floggs. With Lindley, he co-founded revered psych outfit Kaleidoscope — hailed by Jimmy Page as his “favorite band of all time.” A stint with the Nitty Gritty Dirt Band led to the formation of The Corvettes, which later resulted in long-term touring relationships with Linda Ronstadt and John Stewart. He contributed to pivotal session gigs with Leonard Cohen, James Taylor and Hoyt Axton and crossed paths with Sly Stone, Sonny and Cher, Gram Parsons, Gene Vincent, Jim Morrison, Frank Zappa and even Walt Disney and Hugh Hefner.”
—The Cruel Mother
“This cautionary ballad has everything, including one of the greatest tunes. Ewan MacColl taught it to me when I was twenty. A flat, documentary opening, reporting a private act by a conscience-torn young girl. Then the confrontation of the young mother by the ghosts of her murdered twin babies, and her damnation. The refrain has the quality of an incantation, raising one wretched being to an archetype of remorse.”
— Shirley Collins. Liner Notes, The Sweet Primroses (1967).
