Ralston - Carwreck Conversations

While it has been a while since any music by Townes van Zandt has graced my ears, Carwreck Conversations' opening cut, "What Kind of Friend" brought van Zandt to mind immediately. Although Ralston Bowles hails from Michigan and not Texas, he has more than a bit in common with van Zandt. Like him, Ralston falls most easily into the Americana camp and doesn't raise a lot of winsome smiles with his music.

In "Fragile," he tells us "I am not who I would like to be, I'm just who I am now." Sidestepping maudlin tales, Bowles instead offers observations about and questions of himself. In fact, I can't remember the last time I heard an album in which the singer asked so many questions of himself. "What About Me" could have been a sappy, overwrought piece of self-pity but, with its sparse arrangement, we instead get a tender look at a young heart. A plaintive guitar and simple, slow beat tread lightly with a hushed organ chasing from afar. It's also the first of a few songs in which Bowles looks back at youth before gazing at himself in the mirror. In "James Dean," he alternately contemplates the fast life and early death of the star with the fate of a woman who lost her mind after she took a fall, asking "When I go will it be like James Dean?" With a line like, "I don't want to die slow," it's clear he hopes to. Ralston's fascination with days gone by continues in "Being Young," a bluesy piece in which he laments the "curse" that is youth.

But not everything here is steeped in sadness. In "One More Holiday" Ralston Bowles fondly recalls singing to himself on trips out to the 'burbs of Chicago for the holidays on that icon of American folk music, the train. The insistent acoustic guitar doesn't so much give a sense of being on a speeding train as it does of youth rushing headlong towards something new and surprising. "Everybody But You" begins with rim shots and a choppy guitar. It's catchy, fun, and ends with a kinetic romp through Bo Diddley territory.

Musically speaking, Bowles shares more in common with the contemporary folk (whatever that is) of Steve Earle than with the singer/songwriter stylings of Townes van Zandt. While "Grace" may have a mandolin at the fore, there's no mistaking it for traditional folk and the organ which enfolds Ralston Bowle's voice in "Fragile" could be from a Procol Harum album. Well, almost. These aren't criticisms, mind you, just observations.

(This was originally published at The Green Man Review back in 2003-08.)