Otis Gibbs – 49th And Melancholy
Otis Gibbs is apparently an institution of sorts in the rock clubs of central Indiana, having spent equal time making music with his band the Lost Highway onstage and making sure you were 21 at the front door. As of late, he’s become an institution around my CD player thanks to this appealing solo debut, which brings to mind several other breakthrough first releases. It has the simpatico acoustic backing of Bap Kennedy’s Domestic Blues, the gruff charm of Malcolm Holcombe’s A Hundred Lies, and flashes of the this-is-something-special intangibles of Richard Buckner’s Bloomed.
The all-night road song “East Texas Sutra”, which folds in a verse of “Farther Along” to nice effect, sets the album’s pensive tone and introduces Gibbs’ Regular Joe poetry as he promises, “I’m savin’ kisses on the side/I’ll bring them to you tomorrow night.” By the time Gibbs lives up to that vow on the album-closing lullaby “Sleep Gently”, you’ll be grateful there was room in the truck for you.
The images stick (“Her Sunday dress was made of white/Her eyes reflected Saturday nights,” offers the fragile “Portrait Of Mada Premavesi”), as do the melodies. Most memorable on both counts is “Bernadine”, that oft-told tale of a small-town boy whose small-town girl leaves him to become a supermodel. It’s the perfect mix of wit and grit.