The Dixie Bee-Liners – Through My Screen Door

I have spent the last seven or eight years pulling hard for The Dixie Bee-Liners, ever since hearing their second album (Ripe) which bulldozed its way into my Top Ten for 2007. Bulldozed, I tell you — shoving a number of already chosen albums aside to settle down with that year’s elite. Dave Pyles over at the Folk and Acoustic Music Exchange had recommended the album and I took the bait (as I do with any artist/band he goes out of his way to mention — the guy has a 100% rating, thus far), writing a super-positive review which began:

Do NOT file Ripe under bluegrass, no matter what anyone tells you. True, The Dixie Bee-Liners touch upon the genre, as they do upon jazz, country, traditional and modern folk, but a touch do not make the style. You need look no further than early Nickel Creek as proof that sometimes genre does not apply. So if you need to file it somewhere, file it under Bible-Belt Noir, as the band suggests. File it under great, under extraordinary (because it is), under wondrous. Better yet, just clear a space close to the player because chances are, after hearing it, you will more than likely be playing it a lot.

Unbeknownst to me, I would write similar lines upon the release of their next album, Susanville — a wonder-filled musical concept which follows the band on a looping trip across the United States, tracked by GPS (and, indeed, Susanville is one of the destinations). I wrote, again for the Folk and Acoustic Music Exchange:

When Susanville hit my desk, it scattered my 2009 Top Ten list to the winds, and, like (the DBLs’) excellent 2007 release, Ripe, made me second-guess such lists but we are a list-driven society and the two people who read my reviews (thanks, Uncle Ned and Cousin Ferd) hound me each year until I buckle. Since my 2007 list, which included Ripe, I negotiated a clause which enables me to drop the position numbers but ol’ Ned and Ferd, big lugs that they are, still demand a list of ten, so I give them ten. Ned? Ferd? Only nine to go.

 

It has been a good five years since then and I find myself once again slipping the DBLs onto my list, though this year there is as yet nothing to be scattered, the album released on January 1 of this year. As good as music is these days (and it is), I am certain that this latest release from their last sessions will remain Top Ten. My Top Ten. Music is, after all, all about me, is it not? It is, just as your choices are all about you. Music is personal. And personally, I embrace the DBLs’ Through My Screen Door as another gem in a string of gems.

It is a short string, as the title of this album suggests: Through My Screen Door: The Final Sessions of The Dixie Bee-Liners. Four albums. Four exceptional albums. They should have made it. They should have been big. Maybe they still will be, even if posthumously.

I would bemoan the band’s demise if I was not sure that the music will survive and that more will be forthcoming, if not specifically by the band. Lead singer Brandi Hart, now that this album is completed, is gearing up for a solo and/or new band run. Buddy Woodward, who penned and co-penned so many of the band’s songs, is assumedly doing the same. Indeed, all of the band members have bright futures. Just listening to the DBL albums convinces me of that, the musicianship quality all the way.

Musically, the band ends their existence on an upswing. Nine superb tracks written by a slew of songwriters including Hart and Woodward. Songs with roots and songs with heart. For instance, the Woodward-Hart-penned “You Old Bag O’ Bones” which could have been either a Dinah Shore or Peggy Lee song from the fifties or early sixties. “Cornbread Stomp” which drives a simple almost-swamp groove stake through the soul. “Dead Inside,” written by Hart and Power-Pop stalwart Ken Stringfellow, a simple hook blossoming into Pop hit. “Pretty Saro,” a traditional folk-song-turned musical marvel a la what Sandy Denny did so well during her reign. “Like a Summer Storm” a straightforward bluegrass/folk ballad, again Hart-penned.

All songs are exceptional, but the one which strikes home is the title track, “Through My Screen Door.” This one is personal and deep and I can’t quite put my finger on why simply because it is so personal and deep. “I know what he does when he’s alone,” Verse One begins, “I see it in his eyes.” Followed by Verse Two’s “God knows what I do when I’m alone, Ain’t no use telling lies.” Mention of the devil and the pounding beat and stacking of background vocals and instruments make me wonder. It seems to be… I don’t know what it seems to be. Intense. I am sure that’s why the sequencing places it at the end of the album.

Yes, I regret the end of this band. And, no, I don’t. Sometimes it is time to move on and they are doing just that, only as individuals and not a band. And they have left us with music to treasure— especially Through My Screen Door.

Uncle Ned? Cousin Ferd? If I can find nine albums as good as this to accompany it in the Top Ten for 2015, I will be a happy, happy man. Consider this a jumpstart on music of the New Year. You’re welcome.

You can purchase a copy of Through My Screen Door here. Get the CD. You will be glad you did.