Folks, this is the way to continue a career. Cowboy Junkies' star was at its highest arc sometime around the time of Natural Born Killers, when they mixed easily on a major label soundtrack to a major motion picture. They weren't hugely popular by any stretch, but they sold well enough to stay on RCA and then move to Geffen. Perhaps sales took a downturn, because Geffen dropped the band in 1999 as part of their post-merger housecleaning. Instead of crying about it (why do bands act like they're the only people ever fired?) they began releasing records on their own Latent label in 1999. Most bands would pack it in after a year or so of trying to do things on their own, but Cowboy Junkies continue to release beautifully packaged and artistically vital records under the mainstream radar.
Something should be said about how prescient The Trinity Sessions album was. Here's an album from 1988 that tapped into the amber atmosphere of classic country and realized its connection to streetwise rock writing, in addition to foreshadowing the move toward glacial tempos. No wonder I couldn't stop playing that damn thing in my dorm room every time I slept through class. And in the thirteen years since, Cowboy Junkies have refined and diversified their sound, while remaining true to its rootsy core.
Open shows as many sides to the band as I've heard on a single release. The sound throughout is simple and traditional, mostly guitars with organ and piano accents. There's a bit more edge to the guitars than before, but Michael Timmins wisely draws heavily from blues and soundtracks when deciding to process his electric. The wavering riff that echoes through the opener, "I Did It All for You," is the perfect accompaniment, adding cinematic tension to the slowly unfolding tale of murder and betrayal. This is the sound thick with atmosphere that made the band famous, with the dimmer control twisted down a half-turn. The nearly eight-minute "Dragging Hooks" follows (the perfect song for nighttime driving), upping the tempo while adding swirls of slide guitar and feedback.
But while there are a number of relatively snarling rockers, ballads will always be where Cowboy Junkies shine brightest. The prettiest of the bunch is "Thousand Year Prayer," with gently brushed cymbals, simple guitar chords and restrained piano. The lyric is odd, at one point seeming to posit Jimi Hendrix as a possible martyr for the environmental movement, but with Margo Timmins in soft n' wet mode, I find it easy to cruise along on the pristine surface of the song. "Beneath the Gate" also finds Margo harmonizing with herself to great effect on a folky mid-tempo number that recalls John Prine.
Some of the energetic tracks do little for me, particularly when the "sincere roots rock" angle reminds me of Melissa Etheridge, but overall Open is very solid. Long time fans will undoubtedly be delighted, but it's tough to predict if this record will inspire converts. I'm not sure exactly where Cowboy Junkies fit in these days, but if you've dismissed them in the past, I'd say they deserve another listen.
