Freedom and Weep is all fine enough, cleanly executed and moderately compelling, drifting between straight country and indie pop. But it’s got no bite.
It reminds me of the stuff The Pogues did after they booted Shane McGowan: functional, but missing the soul. iTunes identifies the album as country, but it’s not exactly that; it’s more of a nod to country – ‘post-country’ maybe.
Waco Brothers are playing at being country, and they’re passable at it. They’re probably great fun live – they’ve got a handful of Olde England/honky-tonk swing-your-beer-and-sing-along numbers – and they’re certainly smooth as saddle leather, but the emotional power is blurred.
They sound in a hurry to hit their marks. (Ironic that out of The Mekons, a famously sloppy and chaotic band, would spring something that suffers from too much polish.) Freedom and Weep is actually the strongest when it’s the least country: “Freedom” is a good solid pop song that could have been a Squeeze B-side. “Missing Link,” to its benefit, basically abandons any semblance of a country sound.
I understand the punkers’ affinity for honky-tonk – it’s high energy, good time music. It’s fun. I want these experiments to succeed. I was thrilled, for example, when I heard Cracker was going to release Countrysides. But the album itself was a disappointment.
The problem may be that country doesn’t work well as an adopted style; its main appeal is in its authenticity. Playing country as an academic exercise, no matter how good you are, ends up sounding either snide or bleached out. Freedom and Weep falls mostly into the second trap. The real shame of it is that it’s such a clever title.
– Tom Vale
Waco Brothers (Bloodshot Records)