As a visual artist, Jon Langford, who founded the influential and still active punk group the Mekons, works in a decidedly folk art milieu. In addition to running a website (www.yarddog.com) to sell his and others' pieces, he has illustrated almost all of his recent albums with his own folk-inspired work, in which Dia de los Muertos skeletons predominate. The cover of his latest, All the Fame of Lofty Deeds, shows a grinning skull in a Grand Ol' Opry suit, its fleshy hands holding a guitar, flanked by two blindfolded sidemen. Scribbled like graffiti, a thought balloon expresses his cryptic thought: "I quit!"
But Langford is entirely too well-connected to be the kind of American outsider this type of artwork implies: He is, after all, signed to Bloodshot Records, and has collaborated with scores of artists in a variety of projects, among them the Pine Valley Cosmonauts, which recorded three volumes of anti-death-penalty songs featuring Steve Earle, Neko Case, Kurt Wagner, and Rhett Miller, among others. As a solo artist, he has worked with Alejandro Escovedo, Kelly Hogan, The Sadies, and Jon Rauhouse. His music falls squarely in an American country music tradition, and he has released full-album tributes to both Johnny Cash and Bob Wills.
Ultimately, Langford knows he's no outsider. He uses folk art tropes the same way hipsters wear Ramones t-shirts-- as something to aspire to, a totem for something more real and meaningful than the here and now. Envisioned as a concept album about a rags-to-riches-to-obscurity country music journeyman (a reading trumpeted more loudly by the press release than by the album itself), All the Fame of Lofty Deeds paints a cantankerously bleak picture of the present moment, lamenting the sad state of country music and American politics. He culls these 11 songs from disparate sources: In addition to the Procol Harum and Bob Wills covers ("Homberg" and the lovely sign-off "Trouble in Mind", respectively), the album includes two tracks backed by the Pine Valley Cosmonauts and another by Hillbilly Lovechild. He also throws in a "fast version" of "Nashville Radio" and a new take on "Going Over the Cliff".
Through these and other songs Langford suggests that freedom and justice reign only in the margins of society, where artists can clearly view the corruption of the center. "The Country Is Young" compares America to a spoiled infant: "Just crawled to its feet/ Takes a step and collapses." It's a thin metaphor to draw out over a full song, but Langford realizes its comic potential: "You gotta wipe its fat ass and buy it some toys/ Not too big on the sharing."
But All the Fame of Lofty Deeds isn't a wholly political album; about half the songs speak to Langford's contentious relationship with country music. The title track laments the hollowness of celebrity, while "Nashville Radio", the only song here that directly deals with the concept-album narrative, plays even better as a music veterans' indictment of a rootless system that insists its roots are strong and deep. "Going Over the Cliff" shows the stakes in the business are recklessly high: "Success on someone else's terms don't mean a fuckin' thing/ I'm going over the cliff." It's all or-- more likely-- nothing.
To ignore the concept album pretensions of All the Fame of Lofty Deeds is easy enough, especially since Langford ostensibly did not write the songs to fit the concept, but devised the concept to fit the songs. In its hardscrabble arrangement the album does manage to capture the art-for-art's-sake spontaneity attributed to true folk art. In this regard, Langford's outrage over the state of country music and the world cannot overcome his genuine excitement in absorbing his beloved influences, jotting down some great lyrics and some hummable melodies, corralling a herd of talented musicians, and making music that is intelligent, angry, and most surprisingly, fun. Lofty deeds, indeed.
