I’ve always had a bone to pick with Nick Lowe because his quality run spanning from Brinsley Schwarz to Rockpile to his solo career was matched with an equally lame ten-year span of half-assed tripe. I blame this on a few things. One, I think Nick spent a while trying to impress his father-in-law Johnny Cash by writing songs that fell into a more traditional roots-rock vein. This was flawed two ways, as Cash obviously didn’t care for tradition, and Nick’s always been an individualistic artist, so going against that was just uncomfortable for the rest of us. Two, I think Nick is far too self-aware, and was deathly afraid he was going to turn into Mick Jagger or some other embarrassing geriatric rocker.
Now, the Stones put out a pretty good album in their 70s (A Bigger Bang) after a couple decades of excessive garbage. And Nick Lowe put out a pretty good album called The Impossible Bird in his 40s after a decade of half-knowingly excessive garbage. At first glance, it actually seems sort of lazy, with a few country covers holding it together. And I have to admit, even in this setting his slower songs like “Shelley My Love” and “Lover Don’t Go” still suck.
On the whole, however, his “mature” wordplay and melodicism hold up, as does the band he assembled, which unlike on his previous few releases don’t just sound like a group of bored professionals. None of these songs are funny, and I’ll always begrudge him a little for that, but at least he reeled in the corniness. “Soulful Wind,” “The Beast in Me,” and “I Live on a Battlefield” are classics, and there’s plenty of other fine numbers. Ironically, the one I play most is “Trail of Tears,” one of those lazy country covers I mentioned.
And I’d like to say it set a new precedent for him, but the truth is the albums that followed have not been good either in a serious or sardonic light. He got comfortable. And though I’ll always love the guy, The Impossible Bird is probably the last good album he’ll ever make.
The Old Noise 