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A Gem in a HaystackRandall Bramblett bares his soul on 'See Through Me'There's no accounting for taste, which is just as it should be. However loud consensus opinion shouts in an era attuned to yay or nay judgments, the listening experience still comes down to a one-on-one situation between you and the music. Chords that certain artists strike in you don't get struck in others. A singing voice or instrumental texture or outlook that stirs your sensibility can pass through even your closest friends with nary a ripple. There was a considerable lack of stirrage, nationwide, when veteran Georgia rocker Randall Bramblett released his first album in 20 years last August. He wasn't all that well known in the late '70s, when he joined current Rolling Stones keyboardist Chuck Leavell in Sea Level, and his multi-instrumental role in various '90s bands of Steve Winwood hasn't lifted his profile any higher. In the absence of any real promotion or airplay, the new album "See Through Me" (Capricorn), drew no notice outside of the South. I didn't even know of its existence until discovering it in a used-CD store recently. Even in Georgia, it is hardly giving Bramblett's Athens neighbors, R.E.M., a run for their money. I have to admit I expected it to fall short of his neglected gem, "Light of the Night" (1976), which combined a Southern sense of mischief with lively philosophical inquiries on luck and fate—and, via "Carl of the Jungle," a playful take on Carl Jung. Most rock artists coming back two decades down the line sound a bit out to sea, stylistically, and in a recycling mode. But from his fervent opening shout of "Somebody's got to see through me," Bramblett's new recording is even better than its predecessor, which needed his songwriting gifts and force of expression to cut through synthesizer washes and other slick studio touches. Timeliness and trendiness be damned. I'm here to tell you that "See Though Me" is (was) one of the best pop releases of 1998. Bramblett clearly has been through some rough times—for a long stretch, living in New Orleans, he was out of music altogether—and he isn't afraid to lay them on the line. The songs are charged with an intense need for validation and recognition—from romantic partners, his own inner self and the supernatural forces that left him "crawling back from the edge." A rare seeker in a culture of quick-cures, he is out for answers to questions most artists are too timid to pose. "Where do we stand on the trembling earth?" he sings. "What do we know when we don't know what love is worth?" And how do we come to terms with the demands of daily living when all attempts to reach our ideals are doomed to fall short? "Look into the mirror, baby, tell me what you see," Bramblett sings on "Shining Birmingham," the album's most irresistible track, with its swirling Hammond organ and surging chorus. "Are you gettin' any closer to what you really meant to be?" With their keyboard and harmonica touches and wide-open romanticism, some of the songs invite Springsteen comparisons. "Let the windshield wipers carry you off to sleep," he suggests on "Shining Birmingham," momentarily escaping the darkness at the edge of town. "We gonna ride the rolling thunder till we're free." But even in setting his sights on the "promised land." Bramblett is burdened by a despairing past. "Roll your window down, I know how it feels/To be a ghost frozen behind the wheel," he sings on the quietly wrenching "I Burn for Someone" which includes the memorable line, "I keep walking just to feel the ground." Though Bramblett, a keyboardist, guitarist and saxophonist, has played with Gregg Allman and Gov't Mule (as well as the Band's Levon Helm and Robbie Robertson), he is largely immune to the Southern rock genre. The music does, however, point back to the '70s with its bluesily tinged guitar-and-keyboard sound, on one track recalling Free with its crunching austerity and at other times suggesting a Southern Dire Straits. But "See Through Me" overcomes any allegiance to the past through the immediacy of its emotion and the airiness of its melodies. In collaboration with his longtime guitarist and songwriting partner, Davis Causey, Bramblett makes a conscious effort on "See Through Me" to attain a more honest, stripped-down sound than that of "Light of the Night" and his earlier effort for Polydor, "That Other Mile" (neither album has been reissued on CD). Limiting his soprano saxophone playing to a couple of tracks, Bramblett enriches the arrangements with organ, mandolin and Wurlitzer piano. A disarmingly easygoing singer, he has the ability to breeze downbeat truth past you, his Southern inflections at full sail. When he employs his speaking voice, addressing you in the conversational tones of someone you have known for years, the songs take on a fetching intimacy even when charting pain. In the end, Bramblett is telling not only his own tales of struggle, and testing his own mettle, but addressing all caring and intelligent folks who have been pushed to their limits by circumstance. The way things have gone commercially with "See Through Me," he hasn't had many listeners take him up on the title offer. But with a terrific effort like this under his belt, don't count on him waiting another 20 years to post another invitation. Whatever the obstacles, you can always count on artists as committed as this one to make themselves heard. |