Pop: The Big Noise

TERRY ALLEN Salivation Sugar Hill

Friday 23 April 1999 00:02 BST
Comments

Your support helps us to tell the story

From reproductive rights to climate change to Big Tech, The Independent is on the ground when the story is developing. Whether it's investigating the financials of Elon Musk's pro-Trump PAC or producing our latest documentary, 'The A Word', which shines a light on the American women fighting for reproductive rights, we know how important it is to parse out the facts from the messaging.

At such a critical moment in US history, we need reporters on the ground. Your donation allows us to keep sending journalists to speak to both sides of the story.

The Independent is trusted by Americans across the entire political spectrum. And unlike many other quality news outlets, we choose not to lock Americans out of our reporting and analysis with paywalls. We believe quality journalism should be available to everyone, paid for by those who can afford it.

Your support makes all the difference.

TERRY ALLEN is about as protean as artists get. The 56-year-old Texan has written several screenplays, radio productions and soundtracks, including collaborating with David Byrne on True Stories, has sculpture on display in New York's Museum Of Modern Art, video art in Washington's National Gallery, and has designed nightclubs. Along the way, he's picked up a Guggenheim Fellowship and no fewer than three National Endowment for the Arts Fellowships, and has found the time somewhere to make 10 albums which push restlessly at the envelope of what is possible in the country-rock genre. Which makes him possibly the planet's only playwright/sculptor/architect/ multimedia artist/musician: No1 in a field of one. In all his work, Allen displays the kind of attitude one expects from a feisty tyro half his age. His life-size bronze sculpture Modern Communication, for instance, depicts a businessman with fingers in his ears and a shoe stuffed in his mouth; and there are few more pertinent commentaries on the current Balkan war than his unflinching, bloody rumination on nationalism, "Ourland", - despite it having been written 16 years ago, with another conflict entirely in mind.

Salivation continues the stream of trenchant commentaries on contemporary American tropes that has made previous releases such as Bloodlines, Smokin' The Dummy, and Lubbock (On Everything) cult items amongst the new-country cognoscenti. Imperialism ("Cortez Sail"), baseball ("Red Leg Boy"), murder ("Ain't No Top 40 Song"), and the travelling musician's lot ("Billy The Boy" and "The Show") are all intelligently and emotionally dealt with here, Allen's scabrous lyrics set to backings which shift from country to cajun to conjunto and beyond, as the circumstances demand. In particular, the ambivalent position of Christianity in the current American worldview comes in for special treatment on Salivation. To a tuba-bass cakewalk reminiscent of Ry Cooder, "Southern Comfort" offers a reminder, Southern state by Southern state, of racist dues to be paid come Judgement Day, while "The Doll" employs a bizarre, arabic-country drone of bouzouki, djembe, harmonium, clarinet and cello to underscore Allen's musings on "...the doll inside our dollars, Our Lord and Savior Jesus Cash". Most penetrating of all is the title-track, which posits religion as a moveable feast, and heaven as "...just an adjustment/That moves on down the road". It's not a pretty picture, as he acknowledges - "Hold on to the good book/But don't hold your breath" - but somehow, Allen finds enough gallows humour to play the final lines in the voice of Donald Duck. Let's see Garth Brooks match that.

Join our commenting forum

Join thought-provoking conversations, follow other Independent readers and see their replies

Comments

Thank you for registering

Please refresh the page or navigate to another page on the site to be automatically logged inPlease refresh your browser to be logged in