Songs of the late Bill Morrissey are embraced in Erelli’s reMARKable Milltowns
The recording career of the late New Hampshire resident Bill Morrissey (d. 2011), spanned the years 1984 to 2007, produced eight (original) studio albums, a Mississippi John Hurt covers collection, a collaboration with fellow road warrior Greg Brown and, finally, a career compilation. Mark Erelli’s Kickstarter-funded Milltowns delivers a dozen Morrissey originals drawn from seven of the foregoing releases and closes with Erelli’s (album) title song. Adding background detail to Erelli’s voice, guitar, and sundry other instruments are Sam Kassirer (piano, organ), Charlie Rose (pedal steel, dobro), and Zack Hickman (upright bass). There’s vocal support from Rose Cousins, Kris Delmhorst, Rose Polenzani, Anais Mitchell, Peter Mulvey, and Jeff Foucault.
Milltowns opens with “Birches” from Morissey’s Night Train (1994). The portrait of a marriage, where current day indifference merges with memories of a sweeter time, birch logs are tenderly described as “white as a wedding dress.” Rose’s pedal steel and banjo play prominent roles on the ensuing “Night Train.” The setting for “23rd Street” is New York City, and with vocal support from Mitchell, Erelli employs a full band sound on the sole tune from Something I Saw Or Thought I Saw (2001). The first of two songs from Inside (1992), spurred by a (mysterious) fire that destroys his home and belongings the “Man From out of Town” takes to the road, learns many hard lessons along the way, and eventually settles in a mountain town.
The slyly worded “Letter From Heaven” debuted on Night Train. Name checking a gaggle of (mainly) well-known, now deceased, 20th Century musicians, it humorously describes their post-Earth activities. Narrated by a lovelorn cab driver, the second verse of “Handsome Molly” delivers the admission “I’m either in this cab or a bar, / And never in the choir.” We’ll return to the bar, next paragraph. “Ice Fishing” from North (1986), wistfully captures the end of another season for a sporting, and for some, possibly Zen activity. Therein the narrator contrasts “There ain’t much to mill work, The days just go on and on” with “And there ain’t much to ice fishing, Till you miss a day or more.” A melancholy multi-part character study “Time To Go Home” closed Night Train.
A self-deprecating imagining “Morrissey Falls in Love at First Sight,” from Bill’s self-titled debut, delivers the insight “I’m lousy on the first night, I’m better by the third.” And, seeking liquid courage, the narrator adds, “I need another drink / I need a cigarette.” Morrissey’s partiality for alcohol contributed to his passing at the relatively tender age of 59 years. Bars and the concoctions retailed therein also play a major role in the sad late winter/early spring tale “These Cold Fingers.” The final verse includes the words “river road” subsequently an early career Erelli composition.
Another Standing Eight (1989) selection, the impermanence of love is captured in “She’s That Kind Of Mystery”: “But you’ve known from the start / You’ll never write the song that makes her stay.” “Long Gone,” the second selection from Inside (1992), is a paean to love and the road, and in this instance optimistically ends “Throw your arms around me and just keep them there / Tell me you still love me one more time.” In the autobiographical title song, Erelli recalls the first and final occasion that he spent in Morrissey’s company. Both sons of America’s Northeast, in the chorus the (accomplished) pupil who sat at Morrissey’s feet writes, “Now I’m driving through these milltowns – down empty moonlit streets / where the vacant storefront windows look like missing teeth.” Then, with resignation, he adds, “I pray for all that can’t be rescued after everything goes south.”
Bill Morrissey was a class act when it came to economic lyrics, liberally laced with breathtaking images. The subtle vocal and instrumental nuances that Erelli has embraced on this tribute set are simply jaw-dropping.
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Brought to you from the desk of the Folk Villager.
