Dwight Yoakam – Dwight’s Used Records
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Posted On November 1, 2004
Dwight Yoakam took a fair amount of critical heat for 1997’s Under The Covers, on which he crooned his way through everything from “Train In Vain” to “Witchita Lineman”. He definitely turned them into Dwight Yoakam songs — turns out they were just songs few people wanted to listen to.
On Dwight’s Used Records — mostly a collection of tributes and duets, plus a handful of new recordings — Yoakam fares better with a similar concept. Not only has he branded each tune with his trademark sound, he’s done it without bleeding the heart and soul out of them.
Actually, he pours on soul by the shovelful, sometimes threatening to overpower the original. Little Eva’s “Locomotion” brings to mind a gymnasium full of bobbie socks and loafers, but Yoakam’s deranged carny-barking suggests the dancing he refers to is of the horizontal variety. By the time he hiccups the line “Do it nice and easy, now, don’t lose control,” you’re left with no doubt. The standard “Mercury Blues” gets the same delightfully revved-up treatment.
Yoakam has seemed particularly comfortable on all-star acoustic projects such as the Nitty Gritty Dirt Band’s Circle III and Ralph Stanley’s Saturday Night And Sunday Morning, each of which lends a pair of songs to this album. Bluegrass numbers (“Some Dark Holler”, Yoakam’s original “Miner’s Prayer”) work especially well, as does his cover of “Wheels” from the Flying Burrito Brothers catalogue.
Other high points are Yoakam’s contributions to tribute albums for Waylon Jennings, Webb Pierce, Johnny Cash and ZZ Top. The honky-tonk numbers, naturally, are not much of a stretch for him. Cash — who once placed Yoakam at the top of his favorite male vocalist list — would no doubt have applauded his energetic take on “Understand Your Man”. And a steel-drenched intro sets the tone for a raucous version of “I’m Bad, I’m Nationwide”.
His duets with Deana Carter and Heather Myles are a bit less engaging. Their voices are pleasant enough, but the songs themselves don’t have enough punch to stand alongside the stronger material on this record.
The album’s closer is a hillbilly tour de force — over ten minutes of John Prine’s “Paradise”. Yoakam starts off with a fairly straight reading, then he ups the ante, steps on the gas, and chugs his way through four more minutes of twang — sounding all the while like he really is homesick for Kentucky.
