Too much "Americana" or "alt-country" product seems eager to bore. Too many of the acts are either redundant tributes to better bands or materially nostalgic in the Cracker Barrel way, churning out prefab faux-rural simulacra. Fortunately, EZ T trots alongside those few scuffed-rhinestone acts able to use Americana's cadences to examine darker waves of grain. While you'd be right in assuming that Goodbye Little Doll's sound barely dodges cow-patties in that field of dreams between Wilco and Junior Kimbrough, the album's urbane nihilism and undertones of absurdity protect it from being confused with the O Brotherhoodlums whose "agrarian" poses are as transparently escapist as Disney's Main Street USA.
Fans of Drag City's key post-folk dramatists might consider this album an all-star jam, since it boasts so many recognizable session-people (and even makes an argument that these musicians comprise much of the twisted Bonnie backbone that other bands are often accused of echoing). EZ T is lead by Will Oldham studio and concert collaborator Colin Gagon, features two members of Ned Oldham's Anomoanon, boasts Paul Oldham on bass, showcases the production skills of Bill (Smog) Callahan, and is seasoned with Smog backup singer Sarabeth Tucek's unadorned pipes. Gagon's voice suggests that he's a temporary medium for the looser ghost of Papa M's Dave Pajo, and the wishlist "Central Control" is practically an homage to the Silver Jews' David Berman (what with its great line about Nixon withering, and the mini-refrain, "I want to drink my weight in blood"). So if you're keeping score, Liam Hayes' Plush project remains the only "spinoff" from this circle whose releases don't give their peers away.
Let me not treat EZ T like Drag City apocrypha, though, even if Gagon's lyrical tone mirrors the observations of Arise Therefore's whoreson stranger, and even if he furthers that label's family-affair ethos by enlisting two more Gagons to accompany him. Goodbye Little Doll is somehow a singular beast, perhaps due to Gagon's tough mumble (the listener pictures an anemic Joe Don Baker) and his players' scrappier, less deliberate executions. Plus he rocks out! If you ever hoped to hear Bleeding Rearwater Revival cover the climax of "How Soon Is Now" (yes, the "I go about things the wrong way" part), then just wait for the final minute of the fence-torching "New River". Hell, the first line is startling enough: "Mama, don't hang yourself." And then there's the point at which the speaker reckons he "could kill the president with my bare hands"--
The album is packed with raucous portraits of misfortunate mothers, sisters and children (imagine if the Donner Party was actually a shindig in someone's loft). "Fingerless Children" is a rewrite of the traditional "Motherless Children" popularized by The Carter Family and Blind Willie Johnson (okay, EZ T's arrangement wouldn't sound out of place on their producer's Rain on Lens). The parent and sibling on "Cruxes, Cruxes" even poisoned the song's speaker. Unlike exile-hungry hipsters, Gagon doesn't take domestic/matriarchal imagery for granted, and never insists that sisters lack mystery. (While I'm outing my womb-envy, I'll add that this album's worst repeat-play trait is its Chan Marshall-esque minor-chord minimalism.) If we're lucky, future Americana-ists will consult EZ T to learn how the credneck sound can be a vivid palette with which to investigate and convey complicated moods and ironies, just as some paper mills wait until night to release their pollutant clouds.
