Old 97’s – Memphis Flyer

Old 97’s

Venerable Texas country-rockers the Old 97’s have made several visits to Memphis in recent years, performing well-attended gigs at the Levitt Shell, Minglewood Hall, and the “old” Hi-Tone. Having recently celebrated both its 20th year together and the release of a very good new album, the band returns to town again this week — this time for a gig at the Hi-Tone’s newish location on Cleveland.

Aptly titled Most Messed Up, the Old 97’s latest offering finds the group exploring familiar musical and thematic territory, but with an edge the band hasn’t had since (arguably) its best effort, the revered 1993 LP Too Far to Care. Frontman Rhett Miller, never one to mince words, has penned a sharp and fun collection of new tunes rife with self-reference, tales of late-night debauchery, sing-along choruses, and a whole slew of f-bombs. Song titles like “Wasted,” “Intervention,” and “Let’s Get Drunk & Get It On” should give some indication of the level of discourse. And what’s more, the band behind him is once again in fine form. Drummer Philip Peeples’ train-beats are as in the pocket as ever, bassist Murry Hammond’s melodic playing and stratospheric backing vocals provide a nice backdrop, and lead guitarist Ken Bethea’s licks are blistering and perfectly discordant.

Old 97’s

For nearly 16 years the Old 97’s have been closing their shows with the rollicking “Timebomb,” which is just as explosive as its title implies. As drummer Phillip Peeples lays down an impossibly fast train beat and guitarist Ken Bethea fires off a desperate riff, frontman Rhett Miller howls about having “a timebomb in my mind, Mom” and being in love with a girl who’s “like a Claymore… she’s waiting ‘round to get blown apart.”

“Timebomb” opened their 1997 album, Too Far to Care, which was not only the Old 97’s’ major-label debut but also remains the most popular release of their 20-year career. “Of all our records, that’s the one that probably gets the most play every night,” says Miller. “For a lot of people it was the first record they had by us, and so it holds a special place in the hearts of our fans. So we probably pay a little more attention to that one than we do to some of the later records.”

Too Far to Care was reissued last year via Omnivore Recordings, complete with remastered tracks, demos, live cuts, and alternate takes (it also marked the album’s first appearance on vinyl). What’s remarkable is just how well that album has aged. The Old 97’s were one of the best and most influential bands of the alt-country movement, but rather than sounding stuck in a particular moment in the 1990s, these songs retain their urgency, their wit, their exquisite heartbreak. It’s a landmark Texas rock album, albeit an outlier in that state’s rock history: Rather than embracing the redneck-hippie country-rock pioneered by artists like Willie Nelson and Jerry Jeff Walker, the Old 97s clung to their twerp-punk roots, with Miller (often outfitted in a buzzcut and oversized thick-frame glasses) playing the perpetual loser role, sacrificing dignity for women and alcohol. “Salome,” a Too Far standout, was actually inspired by “me laying on an inflatable mattress outside a girl’s door and realizing that she was actually at home with another boy.”