Columbus,
GA native Joey Allcorn titled his first
full-length album, 50 Years Too Late. On
the surface, it would seem an apt title for the
25 year-old Joey, since his overall musical
style is deeply steeped in the ghosts of Hank
Williams, Lefty Frizzell and Ernest Tubb. On the
other hand, dig a little deeper and in reality,
it becomes apparent that Joey’s right on time.
While the sad truth is, he is 50 years too late
for “stardom” as dictated by current Nashville
standards, the upside is that the musical
landscape has changed drastically over the past
decade. Given the technological advances over
the past decade, “independents” (artists and
labels alike) have risen, and no longer do the
major labels have sole control of the industry.
The result of the rise of the independent music
scene is that today, neither artists nor music
listeners are constrained by the “rules” of the
old guard major labels, rules that reduced music
from being an individualistic art form to a
commercial “product” made to appeal to the
broadest mass audience, something that even
music legends like Hank Williams weren’t immune
from. As great as it is, one can only wonder how
much greater even the legendary Hank Williams’
legacy would have been had he been allowed by
his label to record all of the songs he
wanted to, the way he wanted to.
This is where Joey
Allcorn steps up to the plate. With veteran
producer Tim Lawrence at the helm, Joey’s joined
in the studio for 50 Years Too Late by
ace musicians Don Herron (BR549, Bob Dylan),
Andy Gibson (Hank III) and guitar virtuoso
Johnny Hiland, while Hank III and Those Poor
Bastards drop by to deliver guest vocal turns.
He opens the album with its title track, “50
Years Too Late,” a shuffling, hillbilly
country-blues where Joey mournfully laments
about missing out on country music’s golden age.
From there he goes on to recreate the sounds,
moods and atmosphere of that golden era of music
he’s come to love. The bouncy melody, shuffling
beat and expertly delivered yodels of “I Just
Don’t Know,” belie the song’s lyrics of lost
love and heartache in a way that recalls Hank
Williams’ rendition of “Lovesick Blues.” Fiddle
dominates the mid-tempo shuffle “Here I Go
Again,” with Joey effectively providing a
mournful ache to his vocals in this tale of
longing despite rejection. Again, an up-tempo
fiddle and steel driven melody and two-step beat
frame lyrics that paint the portrait of a broken
relationship and a parting of the way in “So Say
Goodbye.”
Joey doesn’t always
leave himself open to wallowing in heartache and
makes a couple of pre-emptive strikes. On the
blistering, footstomping honky tonker, “Tired Of
Being Blue,” he serves up a defiant
done-me-wrong kiss off. The album’s centerpiece
is “Don’t You Call On Me,” a song that most
closely evokes Hank Williams with it’s melody
structure and yodeling opening, while at the
same time incorporates many of the elements from
country music’s golden era that includes a
swinging, shuffle beat, a dreamy steel solo and
honky tonk piano. The song’s lyric’s revolve
around another kiss off of sorts- a man who’s
been wronged and has moved on, makes it clear to
the woman who done him wrong that there will be
no second chance with him for her. Joey moves
over to the darker side with the brilliantly
moody train song, “Son Of A Ramblin’ Man,” the
lonely tale of a lost soul, while the equally
strong country-blues “Alabama Chain Gang”
revolves around a prison inmate. Joey perfectly
delivers a recitative with “The Execution,” a
bone chilling and heart-wrenching tale of the
unintended tragic consequences of a poor choice.
These songs are tied together by the waltz,
“This Ain’t Montgomery,” a duet with Hank
Williams III. The song is a mournful reflection
on the passing of the golden age of country
music as it also acknowledges that time passes
and things change, and while the music will move
forward, there are some who will always preserve
the past and it’s rich history, or to sum it up,
“I don’t know where the music is going…I know
where it’s been.”
Where Hank Williams
was deeply influenced by the blues which he
incorporated into his hillbilly music, Joey was
first influenced by the grunge-rock of the late
80s/early 90s and punk rock. Then in his
mid-teens, he got his first taste of Hank
Williams and fell head over heels in love with
Hank and shortly after, the country music of
that era. He soon came to realize the appeal
grunge and punk held for him was because it was
based on the same basic themes of Hank’s music-
pain and suffering, heartache and depression,
sin and salvation. On three of the album’s
songs, touches of Joey’s grunge/punk influences
collide with his traditional old school country
fare. “Like I Never Will” is a lovely steel
driven heartbreak ballad, but the use of
anguished fuzzed out guitar on the chorus
effectively conveys the sheer depth of pain. In
a snarling indictment of current day Nashville,
Joey’s punk influences come out in the
blistering country-rocker, “In Nashville,
Tennessee,” where he proclaims he’s “trying to
take country back from Nashville, Tennessee-
where they killed country.” The album’s true
oddity is the gothic, creepy tale of death and
resurrection, “Graveyard Bound,” that features
the goth-country outfit, Those Poor Bastards, a
song that moves back and forth between
dirge-like melody and guttural depravity.
Despite the modern influences incorporated into
this trio of song, they still remain undeniable
country to the bone.
Joey Allcorn’s warm
Georgia drawl elicits a pleasing twang with just
a hint of nasal quality that recalls the time
when country music was referred to as
“hillbilly” and “country-blues.” He effortlessly
nails yodels and conveys a high lonesome feel
with ease. Fiddle, steel and stand-up bass
permeate his songs of heartache, cheatin’,
drifters, prison, death, substance abuse and
consequences- real life themes that have long
been absent from country music, at least the
kind currently emanating from current day Music
Row. Despite his love affair with country
music’s 40s and 50s heyday, Joey Allcorn doesn’t
simply mimic the style, he also brings a modern
edginess to the music that carries the
traditional torch into the present, moving it
forward while preserving it’s past. With 50
Years Too Late, Joey Allcorn draws from
country music’s past and gives us a glimpse of
country music’s future.
On The Net:
www.joeyallcorn.com
©AnnMarie
Harrington, TakeCountryBack August 2006