I shot Owen Temple performing a few songs at the historic Sons of Hermann Hall in Dallas, TX. The hall was built on the eastern edge of Deep Ellum in 1910. I will be posting these videos over the next month or two. Read Owen’s 5 records that inspired him here.
1. I had the chance to talk to Owen Temple a few weeks ago about 5 records that have inspired him over his career. One of the questions involves a song that he wishes he had written, and he chose Leon Russell’s “Stranger in a Strange Land”. Taken from Leon’s 1971 record Leon Russell and the Shelter People, the song finds a man questioning why the world doesn’t go his way. This stripped down version illuminated the eternal search for meaning embodied in the song.
2. Russell lists several unanswerable questions throughout the song that have been shouted at the cosmos by thousands of people:
“How many days has it been since I was born?
How many days until I die?”
He then turns inward to ask himself if he has the ability to make his lover happy, lamenting his failure to do so thus far. He then shares the title line, a choice bit of wisdom known to the infant but elusive even to the wise man. The feeling of alienation expressed in thousands of country songs (perhaps chiefly “I’m So Lonesome I Could Cry”) is attributed to the fact that maybe we simply don’t belong here. Russell comments on the state of affairs in the world: the money chase, the leaders taking people astray, and people’s unkindness to one another, before imploring the listener to “recognize the bells of truth when you hear them ring.”
3. Leon Russell has written, in effect, an answer to all the songs of loneliness and solitude, attempting to give a reason why man feels so alone in this world. Owen Temple’s version lacks the R&B swagger (and gospel choir) of Russell’s original, but communicates the simple, brilliant message. The fact that Russell manages to fit the words burro and ecology into the same song is just icing on the cake.
I shot Rhett Miller from the Old 97’s playing a few songs before his show on October 10th at the House of Blues in Dallas. The amiable front man was nearly too energetic for my camera frame, despite the fact that he was playing to an audience of one. Read Rhett’s 5 records that inspired him here
1. Rhett Miller is probably best known for three things — his boyish charm, his seemingly boundless energy onstage, and the ability to pack a song full of wit and heartbreak. That is never more apparent in his entire catalog than in “Big Brown Eyes”, a song so good that the Old 97’s recorded it twice on 1996’s Wreck Your Life and 1997’s Too Far To Care (which was covered in an earlier post). “Big Brown Eyes” is one of those rare occasions where a song is packed to the bursting point with metaphor and it actually works.
2. Miller starts by perfectly describing a situation of impending doom, as he tries to sell a potential lover on the fact that it is time to get out of town. From the “cherry” burning the edge of the paper, to quoting “Robert’s dad”, the intricate details make this whole thing human – as if you can see Rhett pleading with her to leave with him. After the apparent failure of that option, Miller turns inward to his “box of reds, and a pill or three”, eyes darting around the room to describe the depth of his loneliness. His self-aggrandizing continues, declaring that she “don’t want [him] anymore”, and asking himself “what did I expect?”
3. Rhett Miller does a killer job of inhabiting this song — every time it hits the chorus, you can easily envision him staring at the phone, waiting on it to ring. The now-classic line “you’ve made a big impression for a girl of your size” sums up everything he does best in a single line. Luckily for him, this song was just the beginning. He stated in an interview once that you have to write 100 bad songs before you get to the good stuff, and the evidence of his work ethic shows up even in this early material. Luckily for 97s fans, this trend of great songs has created a career for Miller and friends, and it shows no signs of stopping anytime soon.
I shot Rhett Miller from the Old 97’s playing a few songs before his show on October 10th at the House of Blues in Dallas. The amiable front man was nearly too energetic for my camera frame, despite the fact that he was playing to an audience of one. Read Rhett’s 5 records that inspired him here
1. Kicking off with a flurry of alliteration, Miller tells the story of on-campus love that dissolves into a confusing is-it-or-isn’t-it relationship that “feels like paralysis”. Begging his lover to give him some sort of sign, Rhett jumps forward in time to find himself “killing at a comedy club in Hollywood”, where he runs into the same woman. His affections haven’t changed a bit, and neither has the steely facade of his crush, who tells him that she loves him, but refuses to hug him and leaves him grasping for straws of fidelity.The last setting puts the couple in the “kitchen of a cracker jack box” where Miller finds himself with a less corporeal version of his would-be lover. Blurring the line between real life and a dreamy illusion, he reaches for her as she fades away. With the ultimatum that “the world might end in a minute”, he makes one last ditch effort to solidify his life’s romantic work, apparently, to no avail.
2. Miller has said that his solo songs are usually numbers that don’t fit within the Old 97’s canon. This poppy tune is obviously less twangy than the 97’s normal style, but Miller sells it with an earnestness that follows him wherever he goes. That said, I wouldn’t mind hearing Murry Hammond’s high harmony on this track. Either way, Miller’s cheerfully endearing songs about love and the complete lack of it continue to evolve and inspire.
