I owe Jason Isbell And The 400 Unit either a debt of thanks…or a foul-mouthed rant, and I am not sure which.
You see, its like this. Last October, I went to two gigs in the space of two nights, which proved that I am getting old – or at the very least my tastes had changed.
First, on the Monday night, I went to see Metallica. They were alright. The show was slick and spectacular, the songs were ok. The 20-year-old me somewhere is upset at his early 40s counterpart.
Then the next night. Well, the next night, I went to Birmingham Symphony Hall to watch Jason Isbell And The 400 Unit . And the songs, not the light show, this time, was extraordinary. A gig so good that I was moved to say: “A celebratory night ends with a celebration of Tom Petty. “Refugee” is a classic, a genuine copper-bottomed stratospheric tune and so it is here too. It is interesting that it ends things, because really, so good were Jason Isbell And The 400 Unit tonight it is as though, in some way, a baton is being passed right before our eyes.”
Only one of those two gigs came third in the gigs of the year thing on the site too – behind the last ever Sabbath gig and the historic reunion of Guns N Roses – and it damn sure wasn’t Metallica.
Which is why, basically, I wanted to write about ‘Live From the Ryman”, most of which was recorded at his residency in the historic Ryman Auditorium venue in Nashville.
There are few, if any, artists who write songs like this. There is one, about halfway through, called “Elephant” and I defy anyone who has watched a family member die of cancer not to find it strike a chord. I have – and the fact the character in the track has my first name gets me every time.
But then, so varied are Isbell’s talents that a couple before this he is going through the visceral “White Man’s World”. “I am a white man living in a white man’s town, I want to take a shot of cocaine and burn it down” he sings here, but it is saved from nihilism by its last line: “I still have faith but I don’t know why, maybe it’s the fire in that little girl’s eyes…..”
These are incredible songs. Played by an incredible band. “24 Frames” – complete with the line “you thought God was an architect, well now you know. He’s something like a pipe bomb ready to blow” – is wonderful, but he – and they – are equally adept at what we might call “Blue Collar” songs. “Cumberland Gap” and particularly “Super 8” are rock n roll at its finest. Something like Dan Baird might do and astonishingly performed.
Isbell is clearly someone who engenders a rare loyalty from his audience. Battles with addiction are well known, and consequently, perhaps, there is a real warmth about things when he sings the line “I swore off that stuff forever this time” in fan-favourite “Cover Me Up” that simply can’t be faked. Likewise, there is a sense of real personal stuff in the fragile – and yet stoic at the same time – “Cover Me Up.”
Just under an hour of music here ends with the Grammy winning “If We Were Vampires” but in truth, they could – and should have all won something.
We can argue all day long about the merits of live albums, the fact is this one feels right. File right up there with “Live And Dangerous”, “Live After Death” and “Alive II” as essential examples of the genre. And I definitely owe him thanks on reflection.
Rating 10/10
