BLOWIN' INDIE WIND

Author: ALISON LACIVITA

(Smog), formerly known as Smog, is the name adopted by singer-songwriter Bill Callahan, a pioneer of the lo-fi revolution. He debuted in 1988 with a cassette-only released entitled "Macrame Gunplay" and signed with Chicago-based label Drag City in 1991 after the release of the "Floating" EP. "A River Ain't Too Much" is Callahan's twelfth full length release, following the much-loved "Supper" of 2003.

(Smog) sounds a tad like early Leonard Cohen, and often Callahan cites Cohen, Bob Dylan and Lou Reed among his influences. Compared many times to Elliot Smith, Cat Power and Jim O'Rourke, (Smog)'s music allows for complexity of character, and for this reason Callahan is at times deemed "self-obsessed." However, what one person sees as "self-obsessed," another (like me) sees as the honest thoughts of someone who has a childhood, parents and thinks about mortality and heartbreak. "Supper" and "A River Ain't Too Much To Love" are like a peaceful nap, where you wake up and are a little disoriented at first, but then notice the sun streaming into your room.

Even at his least explicit, Callahan's music comes across as an honest assessment of its creator. For that, he is sometimes also labeled a jerk and a misogynist, among other things, but that may be the price of doing business for an artist who refuses to paint himself in the rosy hues of everlasting love or, conversely, dwelling upon heartbreak.

He presents himself as a hash of emotions, desires and needs, frequently uncertain of the world beyond the nose on his face, aware only of himself and his mortality, and, most crucially, drawing his own detached security directly from that awareness. He is also called an enigma because he resembles a human being in a medium where people are used to seeing caricatures.

The more confrontational sound of (Smog)'s earlier work, with distinct instrumentation and sometimes sardonic, nasty edges, has been blunted, whether by age or simply a desire not to repeat himself. Instead, Callahan relies almost exclusively on acoustic strumming and easy melodies, forsaking much of the cynicism of his more highly-regarded work.

Although not as compelling as his more rebellious material, this softening of his sound does not carry the negative connotation of an artist losing steam later in his career. Callahan's distinctive baritone and cutting inflection are unchanging while simultaneously the lyrics depict his own personal changes. In "I'm New Here," he tells us, "I did not become someone different.../ No matter how far wrong you've gone/ You can always turn around."

A listen to the gentle tones of "Say Valley Maker" makes clear the message about transcendence after death. He sings, "Bury me in wood, and I will splinter/ Bury me in stone, and I will quake/ Bury me in water, and I will geyser/ Bury me in fire, and I'm gonna phoenix," and reveals a newfound peace after a confrontation with mortality.

Callahan is a bit new to this sort of territory, occasionally tripping over some surprisingly hokey imagery, and it may not suit those who crave the immediate emotional impact of his more tormented work. But, like any other (Smog) album, it would be incomplete if it presented only a one-dimensional view of his character. In that sense, "A River Ain't Too Much to Love" is as human as anything Callahan has ever done.