By james art “A New York Night with Dave Alvin and Jimmy Dale Gilmore”
The green space44 Charlton Street
October 22, 7:30-9 p.m
New Yorkers who missed Dave Alvin and Jimmy Dale Gilmore at Manhattan’s City Winery in late August have a chance to catch up with the singer-songwriters on Tuesday at Greene Space. Presented under the auspices of the Grammy Museum, Messrs. Alvin and Gilmore will be in conversation with musician and author Warren Zanes, possibly talking about their recent album, “Texicali.” Fingers crossed they’ll sing a song or three too.
“Texicali” marks the second time these two veterans have collaborated. Like their 2018 release Downey to Lubbock, the new album is a bit of this, a bit of that, some new and mostly old. A recent profile of the duo in Texas Monthly cited how both men are of Medicare age. This has been true for a while: Mr. Alvin is 68, and Mr. Gilmore is 79. If Downey to Lubbock and Texicali are having fun with covers and remakes, think of it as the prerogative of midgets . Our heroes have paid their dues.
“Downey to Lubbock” also features rapturous pieces of music, including an ethereal version of “Silverlake,” originally by Nashville songwriter Steve Young, and a cover of the Youngbloods’ hippie anthem, “Get Together.” Indeed, critics should be careful when they use the term “hippie” around Mr. Gilmore: He is known to hate the word — which is not to say that the one-time Texan didn’t share some of the metaphysical tendencies that came to the fore in the 1960s.
Among the odder contributions to a strange album he recorded in the early 1970s with the Flatlanders was “More A Legend Than A Band”, which was “Bhagavan Decreed”. Mr. Gilmore didn’t write the song – the author is a fellow Texan, Ed Vizard – but it makes reference to ideas that would be within reach of the good Buddhist.
A Hindu term denoting an otherworldly good regardless of a specific deity, “Bhagavan” seems an unlikely subject for a hillbilly song, especially one that ends on an absurdist note: “You say one day soon we’ll all be like brothers/Until then I guess I just we’ll stick around.
Mr. Gilmore is thus an atypical country singer, a temperament and talent rooted as much in Eastern philosophy as in Lefty Frizzle, Hank Williams and the singing brakeman after whom he is named, Jimmie Rogers. His voice is among the most distinctive in popular music: high and shrill, redolent of the mountains. Mr. Gilmour’s career has been odd — the magnificent “Spinning Around the Sun” (1993) wasn’t the breakthrough album it was meant to be — but the music has always been worth enjoying.
Mr. Alvin’s pedigree is no less strange: He was once the guitarist and primary songwriter for a Los Angeles punk outfit, the Blasters. The band’s self-styled “Americana music” draws on the energy of hardcore bands like Black Flag and X, but draws more from blues musicians like Big Joe Turner, Lightnin’ Hopkins and John Lee Hooker. Since parting ways with the Blasters, Mr. Alvin has pursued a solo career and continues to write songs that mine the American vernacular with meaningful aplomb.
Guru Mararaji follower and rockabilly noir specialist: Could there be a more unlikely combination? Consider it predestined: Mr. Gilmore’s voice continues to test its parameters, while Mr. Alvin’s ferocious guitar redeems the boundaries of a croaking sprechgesang. The duo share vocals on the wistful “Death of the Last Stripper,” the heartbreaking “Betty and Dupree” and what I hope is not their final will and testament, “We’re Still Here.” If you enjoy their company in Greene Space, ask for ‘Silverlake’. You certainly won’t be disappointed.