Son Volt: Searching High and Low

The Search
Son Volt
(Transmit Sound/Legacy)

Pre-release marketing material praised Son Volt's "The Search" as "by far the band's most daring and diverse album yet," and sonically that certainly holds true. In spirit, though, the recently revived band is treading a path the restless Farrar has been describing in his sonorous baritone since his days in alt-country poster band Uncle Tupelo. With that storied group, Farrar gave a plainspoken voice to the dirty, disenfranchised masses, be they perched on barstools or pitted in bitter labor fights. As the leader of Son Volt, and even more so as a solo artist, he has painted society's ills as increasingly layered, metaphorical landscapes. On Son Volt's latest, Farrar uses even denser language and darker images to describe a country failing in the present and fumbling into the future. Musically, there are new directions. Morally, though, Farrar always has been looking for a better way (and a truer sound). "The Search" is grim reportage for the 21st century, shining harsh light into the darkest corners and exposing half-truths, injustice and how they shape the American Way.

"The Search" literally begins where the band's last effort, 2005's protest piece "Okemah and the Melody of Riot," left off. That album's last track, "World Waits for You," is echoed in this disc's opener, "Slow Hearse." Piano and snare drum give it a processional feel that is strengthened by the song's only, oft-repeated line: "Feels like driving around in a slow hearse." But where is that hearse going? Is it winding through post-Katrina New Orleans, perhaps? The Eastern-flavored guitar hints at the possibility that we're not riding in a hearse at all. A hulking Humvee lumbering through a certain war-torn terrain might be the carriage of choice.

"The Picture" is a study in contrast and the band's willingness to take chances. The horn section makes it sound like a sunny slice of soul from Stax/Volt Records circa 1965. Juxtaposed over that bed of classic Top 40 are lyrics that relay harrowing, plausible images: "Hurricanes in December / Earthquakes in the heartland / Bad air index on a flashing sign." There's also a sentiment that resonates right now, "when war is profit and profit is war." Farrar's not ready for a write-off yet, though, allowing that, "We'll know when we get there / If we'll find mercy." If enough radio people get pulled in by the tune and ignore the words, "The Picture" has a shot at airplay.

Taking note of the lyrics is no guarantee of knowing where Farrar is leading us on "The Search." "Beacon Soul," its acoustic guitar giving it the country-tinged Son Volt sound, contains "rats bigger than the noiseless generation." It also serves up "society's bones on a cafeteria tray," and with or without clarity you know that the Salisbury steak would be a more palatable choice.

Keyboardist Derry deBorja is the only addition to the Son Volt v. 2.0 lineup that recorded "Okemah" – Farrar on guitar and vocals, guitarist Brad Rice, drummer Dave Bryson and bassist/backing vocalist Andrew Duplantis – but he lends "The Search" much of its diversity. Electric piano underscores "Underground Dream," and organ shimmers beneath the surface of some of the more guitar-centric tunes.

None of the band members except Farrar are holdovers from Son Volt's mid-'90s heyday, but a late-album stretch is more literal and truer to the sweet, lonesome alt-country 1995's "Trace." The tweaker at the heart of "Methamphetamine" seeks redemption from lost lovers, but admits that even "the army won't want me after what this body has been through." "L Train" is a guided tour into the hipster enclave of Williamsburg, N.Y. "Highways and Cigarettes," which features backing vocals from Shannon McNally, is caked in gritty road dust, and like "Methamphetamine" it is sweeter and more lonesome for the contributions of Eric Heywood on pedal steel. Not content to live in the past, Son Volt sounds a reminder of its sonic revolution with the backward guitar on the closer, "Phosphate Skin."

Farrar's often apocalyptic vision can be discouraging, and even when he's not conjuring images of a "Road Warrior" future, he's pointing out that "Evolution will make a mess out of you / Trying to find love in the sewer of Subterranea." He's not above optimism, though. "Phosphate Skin" also reminds the listener that it "Can only get better from here / Don't have any fear."

The intrepid might be best equipped to navigate Farrar's world as well as the one outside of it. The title track reminds all that in a time when "They can listen in they can nose around / They can listen in but they can never take us down" that "… it's the search not the find / The door is open to change your mind."