LAST OF THE BLACKSMITHS /// LAST OF THE BLACKSMITHS /// SELF-RELEASED ///
	OUR LADY OF THE HIGHWAY /// BEAUTY WON'T SAVE US THIS YEAR /// SELF-RELEASED ///

Maybe it's San Francisco's incessant fog that can be blamed for this city's proliferation of sadly twangy bands. Over the years the City has either spawned or played long term host for such alt-country weepers as Richard Buckner, The Old Joe Clarks, Court And Spark, Red Red Meat, and Two Gallants, to name a few of the better known. Maybe the continued presence of a strong alt-country scene in the bay area is simply because these guys haven't figured out that the Mission district is sunny all the time. But who wants sun all the time? Certainly not Last of the Blacksmiths, one of San Francisco's latest participants in this city's tear fest. Last Of The Blacksmiths starts as a slow moving, at times somnambulant affair, but finds its groove with a unique pop-inflected sound more reminiscent of Granfaloon Bus than any straight alt-country act. It has the feel of an ornate wooden urn, something utilitarian painstakingly carved from what's at hand. An organic, shambling array of varied instrumentation, Last Of The Blacksmiths make old time harmonizing and quick fingered picking their bread and butter. There are traces of the blues ("Russian River"), keyboard driven indie rock ("Pushing Down"), plenty of narrative driven story songs, and weepy balladry. The band has a keen sense of melody and wisely doesn't waste it on the pedestrian or obvious. There's little boy loses girl crying on Last Of The Blacksmiths. Instead they are chroniclers of everyday life, content to make songs more about what lives in our heads than our hearts.

The great risk a band takes in inhabiting music, both geographically and culturally distant, is appearing untrue to the spirit of that music. Last of the Blacksmiths avoids this pitfall by adding enough of their own personality to the songs to create a believable synthesis of old and new. A song like "Out At Night" is based on a lilting mandolin and banjo combination but lyrically is about the difference between working day jobs washing dishes and tarring roofs versus picking tomatoes in a Central Valley field. "Grass Blade" is a slow moving ballad until the midway point when a 70's AM radio style keyboard takes over. Sure, a song like "Saloon Song" might take itself a bit seriously at over six minutes (don't they go to bars like the rest of us?) but they always reel it back in before things get silly.

In 2004, Our Lady Of The Highway, another San Francisco band, released one of the year's most maudlin and touching records with About Leaving. A chronicle of parting, going home and starting over About Leaving left lasting impressions through singer/songwriter Dominic East's heart on the sleeve lyrics and delicate songs. So here we are in 2005 and Our Lady of the Highway, now unsigned, offers Beauty Won't Save Us This Year. As the title indicates, East hasn't lost his profound sense of being on the short end of the romantic stick, but gone are the strains of slide guitar, the introspective moments of quiet contemplation. Instead echoes of XTC and Neil Young & Crazy Horse have replaced the sounds of ruinous struggle through rocky times. Damn if the band hasn't gone ahead and created one of the better pop albums you're likely to hear this year. East clearly has a knack for melody and clever word play, but who knew that guitarist Andy Gerhan (scientist by day, ax man by night) could unleash the kind of staccato bursts capable of recalling Everybody Knows This Is Nowhere. Beauty Won't Save Us This Year's greatest challenge is creating a persona as fully realized and intimate as About Leaving. Where that album's defining moments lay in intense soul bearing via melancholic strains of alt-country, Beauty Won't Save Us This Year is more of a stylistic mish-mash looking for a suitable voice through hooky choruses ("Lord, Stop The Bar"), surprising instrumentation (the sax in "Parable of Strength" is both unexpected and welcome), and help from friends ("Duet" is, um, a duet with Anna Coogan from Portland's North 19). Ultimately, Beauty Won't Save Us This Year is the sound of a band trying to figure out what it wants to be. Other bands have fell flat on their faces making these transitions, it's admirable Our Lady Of The Highway have made such a rollicking listen while finding their way.

Peter Funk