Rod Picott is so adept at setting a scene, at telling a story in his songs. Check out these early lines from the album’s first track, “Next Man In Line”: “One wears plaid on plaid, you couldn’t wake him/With a Louisville Slugger/And the leak of blood is a trip wire mine/How does it feel to be the next man in line.” Those are some excellent lyrics. And his is a voice we trust. There is energy, warmth and experience in it, and, above all, honesty. These lines also stand out: “Now your knuckles are hard and your limbs are slow/In the rear-view mirror is the devil you know.” Life is so damn short, and suddenly we find ourselves in the spot where we’re older than those around us. And check out that brief instrumental section in the second half. I wish it went on a bit longer. That’s followed by “Digging Ditches,” which has a great bluesy edge from its start. His vocal delivery has more of a raw energy here to match it, the overall effect being very cool. And speaking about creating a vivid setting, check out these lines: “Flies on the window, beer in his hand/Mama’s doing dishes, quiet as she can/Be careful when you walk by, stay just out of reach/There’s a lesson you’ve learned, but he still wants to teach.” An ominous note in familiar surroundings. That guitar work is like a wild cry at moments in the second half, showing its scars and expressing a need to persevere. This one is over all too soon.
“Television Preacher” begins with some soft, pretty work on guitar. This one also describes a family scene: “Mom’s staring down at a television tray/Picking at a hundred piece puzzle/Dad’s looking like he’s halfway through/That whole bottom shelf of trouble.” These are strong, vivid images that we connect to immediately. We see them, feel them. There is a weariness to the delivery of those first lines, which is fitting. “We ain’t got much, there ain’t much to lose/Money is tighter than a poor boy’s shoes.” That’s an interesting line, for its use of “poor”; the word is in relation to someone other than the person narrating this story, who is clearly poor himself. It’s all relative, right? Interestingly, there is another mention of shoes later in the song: “I’d like to take her on a long, long drive/Past the shoe shop and department store.” When you’re broke, shoes become an issue, and he gets that across without saying it directly, but by planting the image in our own minds. Again, he’s a fantastic songwriter. This song is about how people without much often end up getting suckered by those television preachers into giving what little they have. Check out these lines from near the end of the song: “Open that door to that revival tent/Let Jesus himself find next month’s rent.” This track features some nice work on pedal steel.
“A Puncher’s Chance” is a song about how life treats us, and the different ways to approach it, wrapped in the extended metaphor of a boxer. “I’ve had a few rounds, maybe more than my share/And you’ve had your own fights, but we’re still standing here.” This song contains a reference to Muhammad Ali’s famous line, “Float like a butterfly, sting like a bee”: “I’m not light on my feet, I’m no butterfly/I can’t sting like a bee and I fall hard.” This one was written by Brian Koppelman and Rod Picott, as was the song that follows it, “Combine,” which is about farming, hoping to get “one more harvest/From this old combine.” It has the slower pace of a life away from the city. Sometimes when I listen to this song, I believe he’ll get that harvest, other times I think not. I suppose it depends partly on our mood as we listen, what we ourselves put into the song. This track features some good work on mandolin. That’s followed by “Homecoming Queen.” I’m of such an age that is difficult to say the words “homecoming queen” without following them with “has got a gun,” but that’s no matter. This song has a pleasant vibe as it starts, and it does take me back to my childhood with its lyrics about Little League baseball and the line “Read the dirty parts of Judy Blume.” I remember in fifth grade, all of us passing around a copy of Forever; it’s how we learned a thing or two about sex, in those days before health classes. This track was written by Amy Speace and Rod Picott, and features some nice work on steel guitar, which adds to the sense of sadness behind the lyrics. “Everybody wants to dance with the queen, even me.”
I love the raw feel of “Starlight Tour,” the album’s title track, from its start, that sense of being on the edge, as memories have their way with us. Here are the song’s opening lines: “She said he was my daddy, but I ain’t so sure/He might have been just another bad night’s cure/But he was good to my mama and the liquor store/He don’t come around here no more.” The vocal delivery might make you think of certain Greg Brown songs. What’s interesting is that the perspective switches after that first stanza, and soon we learn the song’s true subject, police violence against indigenous people in Saskatoon. This powerful song is another of the disc’s highlights. It was written by Nick Nace and Rod Picott. Then “Wasteland” comes on with a strong energy, the song touching on the opioid crisis, but told from within a family that has long made its living from selling illegal substances. I love how the song puts it into some historical context: “My daddy’s daddy built the trade/Back when moonshine still paid/And they all lined up to get a taste.” It’s interesting, because this song, like others on this album, is about family and one’s place. The lines that really stand out are these: “If you think you’re better with your city lights/You’d best stay there ‘cause out here it’s dark at night.” Indeed, it’s a darkness that he’s describing.
“Pelican Bay” tells another compelling tale, this one about a Vietnam veteran. The first time he sings the line “Me and Mary at the end of the day,” the way he delivers the line, it feels not just like the end of the day, but the end of the line, the end of a life. There is a quaver in his voice on the word “day.” And check out these lines: “Now I walk the beach and carry a stick/Scratch her name in the sand/And I stand and watch the ocean come and/Take her back again.” Did I mention what a great songwriter Rod Picott is? He concludes the album with “Time To Let Go Of Your Dreams,” one of the most depressing song titles of all time. “It’s time to let go of your dreams/This world is not what it seems,” he sings at the beginning. There is an intimate quality to his delivery, and it feels like a goodbye. Here is another line that stands out: “You’ve driven too far off the map.” This track contains some pretty work on guitar, and the trumpet comes as a sweet surprise toward the end. Rod Picott leaves us with this thought: “It’s time to find a new dream.” And within that line, that idea, there could be something positive as well as negative.
CD Track List
- Next Man In Line
- Digging Ditches
- Television Preacher
- A Puncher’s Chance
- Combine
- Homecoming Queen
- Starlight Tour
- Wasteland
- Pelican Bay
- Time To Let Go Of Your Dreams
Starlight Tour was released on February 2, 2024.
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