The Rainieros – The Fool
(2018, self-released)
“. . . no, it’s not nothing that I hadn’t heard before.”
“The Fool” is a strong opener for the eponymous EP. The song is emotionally buoyant in the “High Lonesome” hallmark of Country greatness, straightforward, and–like any first level in Super Mario Bros.–it doesn’t scare the uninitiated. It’s so evident of what Country is that it could have been a musical candidate for the cultural annals of the Voyager spacecraft- perhaps under the heading “Virgo Supercluster/Milky Way Galaxy/Sol 3/Mid-Holocene Era/Northern Hemisphere/Post Afro-European Diaspora/North American Rural Folk Expressionism/United States of America/Washington/Seattle/The Rainieros,” but alas.
What I enjoy about this song (and the EP to a further degree) is what I esteem to be valuable in art–the merit therein being an achievement of archetypal storytelling. Our narrator is an Anybody who becomes forlorn and forsaken of love’s ebbing eases and becomes “The Fool” amidst a supporting cast of pronouns. This oblique narration is pliable to identity, and thus achieves a universal resonance. The lyrical content is about Me and Them, but the grander conversation ultimately becomes more about Us. To guise the archetypal in a garb most-worn (and arguably worn out) by Country’s comfy couture of individualism is no accident. The performances and the song itself are too self-aware of the continuum in which they’re participating for this archetypal clarity to be happenstantial (and just because it’s self-aware and within said continuum, that’s not to yoke the music with a vulgar description like “post-modern”–because we already decided it was archetypal, didn’t we? Good.)
“I try and try, but I can’t hurt the Heartless.”
“The Heartless” continues to explore the folly of we humans having expectations and trying to relate to one another. It’s a great second song for the EP in that it takes us a little bit deeper: The inner dialogue that fulfills the first-person narration continues whilst becoming more specific, and even the instrumentation localizes– finding the 1970s Honky Tonk within the grander Country pantheon. Jonathan Stuart’s lead guitar performance invokes Bakersfield sensibilities (complete with phaser guitar effects), and the wistful island sounds of his steel work are more akin to Jerry Byrd’s “On the Shores of Waikiki” than a more bluegrass-inspired Nashville style of picking. I appreciate this steel approach because it supports evidence that the Country music we know today is partial progeny of Hawaiian jazz, and there’s something about that syncretization that is both edifying and inspiring in that Country music can (and should) come from anywhere.
“Well, my heart was in a basket on an old three-legged table, balanced high upon a tight rope made of worn and tattered cable . . .”
“Pick Up the Pieces” pushes the album into more frenetic territory–a “Pick Up . . .” for the tempo and “. . . the Pieces” being the resident lovelorn shambles that we’re becoming used to. It is here that a semblance of concept within the album arises as momentum is built without thematic deviation. Emphasizing this shift in energy is the rhythm section showcase that presides throughout: James Tyler Johnson on bass guitar and Donnie “Shuffle King” Staff on drums have been brought forward in the mix, not only anchoring a solid honky tonk song, but delivering a dance number with beats so clear that they almost tell you where to put which appendage when. This is an effective production choice in that “Pick Up the Pieces” is a dance number (thus warranting the bass and drum’s volume boost), it keeps the EP away from fatigue or sonic plateau, and it emphasizes a dimension of the sound that has been foundational–but as of yet not directly addressed. Our ears can get caught on the rewarding lyrics and whistle-worthy melodies that we’ve thus far encountered, but if the rhythm section isn’t working, then songs of this genre wouldn’t work. This production emphasis implies a degree of confidence in craftsmanship, something that can’t be bought or “punched in”–and something that the superior pedal steel stylings of Jesse Cunningham readily deserve.
“. . . after the smoke has cleared.”
“After the Dust Has Settled” provides a great closing tune for “The Fool EP” by giving us a reflective and upbeat summary statement, and a great bookend to answer where we started when “The Fool” kicked things off. By this point we’ve looked over the individual shards of heartbreak and loneliness from various states of unrest, and much of the dialogue between the narrator and the unrequited love object has been more about what the narrator wanted to say than any actual exchange. But that’s not to say that this song wouldn’t stand on its own: “After the Dust Has Settled” speaks of a strength in surrender, healing, and redemption. Our narrator is singing directly to the love object more so than before, almost as if we’ve eavesdropped in on a hopeful reconciliation.
The production on “After the Dust Has Settled” is an exhibition of “the everywhere and the how” this EP has traveled. It demonstrates different styles of guitarmanship jockeying for position in genteel sport, taking us through decades of expression and evolutions of taste. It’s this sonic mosaic that’s warranted the inclusion of the great Country Dave Harmonson on pedal steel–because only after you’ve gone everywhere can you begin to go where Country Dave has gone.
What’s been great about listening to this EP is that the songs are as much about interpersonal relationships as they are about a band coming into its own. The tried and true lovelorn theme throughout serves to give the album a center in which the music orbits, spiraling ever outward in a grander complexity- as if Fibonacci’s number could be played with a shuffle beat.
It’s more than fitting to have a PNW heavyweight such as Country Dave Harmonson on the pinnacle song of this album, because I think “The Fool” EP is a changing of the guard for The Rainieros. A Master such as Country Dave on the album’s send-off goes to emphasize The Rainieros’ roles as Journeymen of Country music. The band has historically acted more as an institution of revolving members up until a few years ago (imagine a fraternal lodge with parliamentary offices where folks can be elected in and out). The collective intelligence of the current band holding fast to their stations is evident, and an age of unprecedented enlightenment in the band’s history is currently underway. This album is their laurels, chevrons and fruits of labor–and it is well deserved.