In the opinion of the vast majority, there is no winter in the fabulous cowboy country. After all, you can ride a horse, spinning a lasso over your head and sucking on branded cancer sticks only under the scorching Texas sun. Of course, there is a special subspecies of snow cowboys, but these guys exist only in a few films: in the Great Silence, and in one Tarantino. Reality is always more complicated than our ideas about it, and even on a remote ranch it snows, at least a couple of months a year. John Parr describes this icy snowy season very accurately in his music making. Sometimes it’s even too reliable.
We’ll make adjustments right now: this is a completely different John Parr. He had never been English, at least. And, let’s be honest, much less original. And in his case, it’s hard to call it a minus, because winter, with the exception of long–past holidays, is an extremely dull and monotonous time. John’s music is also monotonous, but there is a definite advantage in this: his simple predictability is very soothing. It’s like falling asleep in front of the TV in the arms of a loved one. Or a cat. And the cat.
However, with all the homegrown commercial sound, John has a certain sincerity. What’s the only thing worth it is the single Mama Said She’s Drinking Tonight, where John sweetly poses for a selfie with, presumably, his own mother. The song, by the way, is very groovy, unlike the current record. Well, what can you do if a person wants to sound good in a pop way? It doesn’t make White Buffalo any worse, and there’s nothing to say about sweet nasty projects like The Top Cats.
John has two full-length albums in total. A Sinner’s Grace was released in the irretrievably departed year 2025. In it, despite the same winter cover, the contents are much hotter. Maybe even a hot drink, but don’t forget about the homegrown popiness. It manifests itself here, firstly, in a too slick sound. I didn’t hold a candle, but I’m sure the collection of virtual instruments on John’s MacBook (it’s definitely a macbook, rest assured) is truly impressive. Well, in general, all this cinematic soundtrack… These songs would look most organically in the toys I’m writing about here, like Days Gone or Far Cry 5. That is, as if they were specially written for something like this. There are ghosts in New Orleans, or “look how redneck I am.” Well, you know what I’m talking about.
But the new record is already winter in every sense. Released last January, it’s much more enjoyable to listen to it in an imaginary honky tonk. You come in like this from the cold, sit down at the bar and warm yourself with chilled whiskey, in the naive belief that minus minus will definitely give a plus. But it’s best to look at such an imaginary bar from your plasma TV screen while sipping hot tea with a lemon. It’s not about promoting sobriety, but about the fact that it’s all very “grocery.” Oh, these times of advanced capitalism, when instead of an angel and a devil, an effective manager and a caricature creator sit on their shoulders.
In such conditions, human nature finds its brightest manifestations in human shoals. For example, two similar tracks on an album are perfectly acceptable. But to put them in a row, and even on the first and second tracks… By God, when I first heard Campfire Wisdom, I thought the first track, Back to the Delta, was on repeat. I’m sure John would have objected to that: “What are you talking about, the guitar sounds different in general, and there’s also a harmonica here, but not there!” And then another interesting detail is revealed: John is on self-publishing by himself.
In practice, this means that John is his own producer, promoter, and everything else. And when one person does everything in the world, they are undoubtedly worthy of respect, but for some reason it is very easy to fall into many traps with music. After all, you need to create with all the breadth of your soul at the same time, but also do not forget about daily bread. And the probability of a bias in one direction is extremely high. Although all this on my part is fortune-telling on coffee grounds, of course.
Hardest Lessons is almost a banger. The theme of the hardships of life, which does not shine with originality, is perfectly conveyed in a very explosive “sing-along” chorus. He reminded me of Josh Meloy, an Oklahoman.
Thieves Circus is losing ground somewhat. The only thing that can catch your ears is a powerful violin loss. But the basic truth in the lyrics of this song seems a little more curious.
Gunpowder in the Morning is about the cool life of a bad guy, very funny. I’d rather hear it from some Stoner/southern band. To add some aesthetic dirt.
Mother Please Pray continues the same theme, balancing somewhere between pop gospel and root blues, broadly speaking. I wanted to rattle the chains.
Freedom in the Pain smacks of obvious GaryMoorish. Well, or Claptonish, whichever is closer. In any case, the chorus translates it all into a pop-rock story.
The same vintage rockery notes continue to be heard in Salvage in the Wreckage Done. Although here it is in places closer to The Highwaymen. Don’t ask how exactly – it’s about associations. It’s like when you find The Highwaymen on the radio in GTA V.
Needing Abel (Wanting Cain) sounds like dark country for beginners. It’s also purely associative. Well, at least the quote from Nietzsche is appropriate.
Black Moon is much sweeter. I want to put it on the dramatic moment of the series about bikers.
Two Thieves stands out favorably with the introduction. But in general, it’s flirting with chains and choirs again. Right up to the chorus: he’s pretty funny again.
The Ballad of Ada is already difficult to distinguish from all the others. Also, the blues, turning into blues-rock, is very pop. Except that the role of backing vocals is more important here than in the rest of the songs. Well, the guitar sound is very interesting on the solo at the end.
Ain’t No Pop Star Man is a very bold statement considering all of the above. Well, it’s a kind of confession, in a very good blues key. There are a lot of things that can be explained here: fatality, for example. Overall, it’s a good end to the album.
What can we say about this record and this artist in the end?
You can’t say anything bad, but you don’t want anything good either. I’m not sorry for the time spent. It’s just normal music. And the closest analogy I have is with the Nickelback band. I can’t dig deep either, but something is missing. Just as post-grunge is never grunge, so this post–country is too far from country.
However, things are amazing in this genre of post-country music. Which is only worth the dominance of neurons. I’ll definitely tell you about it sometime. We are living in an interesting time, gentlemen cowboys! And this particular record lulled me to sleep with its normality. It does a good job of grounding a tired mind. Just the thing for cold winter evenings.
