The Jayhawks: Rainy Day Music

Back in February, my good friend Chelsea was flying from Manchester, England, back to her home in Tennessee. Because she’s such a good friend, she scheduled a layover in Philadelphia so that we could spent some quality time together; not knowing what else to do, I suggested we have some Indian food and check out AKA Music.

The less said about the Indian food the better (don’t get me wrong – I’m a huge fan of it, and I have Chelsea and Cameron to thank for introducing me to it, but this particular restaurant wasn’t all that impressive to me), but this was my first time at AKA Music, despite it being recommended to me two years prior by tapehead letter writer Sean. Needless to say, I felt like a kid in a candy store, and even though I didn’t have a job at the time, I walked around the aisles, gently pawing the CDs and vinyl, trying to decide if I really needed to pay off my credit card debt or if I should just add to it. In the end, I opted for the latter, but only slightly: my purchases that day were Richard and Linda Thompson’s I Want To See The Bright Lights Tonight, Floratone’s eponymous debut album, and the Jayhawks’ Rainy Day Music.

I had set out specifically to purchase the first two, or at least had the idea planted in my mind for a while; the Jayhawks, though, was an impulse purchase, and had been recommended to me by good friend Chelsea. In fact, she walked up to me as I was looking in the Rolling Stones section (in case they had released a new album and, for some improbable reason, I wasn’t aware of it), thrust the CD into my hand, and said, “You would like these guys. I think you should get this.” I did as she suggested (it was a used copy, and I can’t argue with a $5 sticker price), and listened to it on the way home from the airport after I dropped her off.

What immediately struck me about the band is that they sound a lot like the Byrds – at least, my perception of what the Byrds sound like, or what little of theirs I’m familiar with. The songs are rife with jangly, ringing guitars, sugar-sweet harmonies, and a bright disposition, even if the subject matter often isn’t: witness album opener ‘Stumbling Through The Dark’, of a girl who fell in love, only to not find the object of her attraction reciprocate those feelings; or ‘Tailspin’, about a convicted man getting the chair. This is dark subject matter, yet the words are married to upbeat, almost jubilant melodies, and infectious choruses that you can’t help but sing along to.

There are a handful of slower songs, too: ‘All The Right Reasons’, is more of a ballad, and wears its CSNY inspiration on its sleeve; ‘Madman’, too, could have been a Déja Vu outtake. Album closer ‘Will I See You In Heaven?’ is a lazy waltz, with more of an emphasis on the vocals while pushing the other instruments – acoustic guitar, a wheezy pump organ, some light strings – to the back of the mix. Otherwise, this is mostly an upbeat album, with several surprises. ‘Save It For A Rainy Day’ is the jauntiest of the bunch, and is probably the most accessible, with a jangly 12-string Rickenbacker and a nice harmonica solo; ‘One Man’s Problem’ sounds a lot like a rejected Wilco song, but, of course, that’s not a bad thing at all.

I’m convinced that, if you’re in a band and you want a loyal female following, all you have to do is write a song with a female’s name, and voila – instant hit. It worked with countless Beatles and Beach Boys songs, giving their audiences something to swoon at in concert. The Jayhawks get adventurous here, with not one but two “name” songs: ‘The Eyes of SarahJane’, a darker tune with some prominent percussion (congas, maracas, etc.) and a percolating Hammond organ, and ‘Angelyne’, which is more in the alt-country vein, with hints of cajun, featuring some twangy 12-string guitar and an accordian buried deeper in the mix.

All of the songs were written by Gary Louris, who has an obvious appreciation for early 1970s folk-country rock, with the exception of ‘Don’t Let The World Get In Your Way’ (my personal favorite song: anthemic with a memorable chorus, inspirational in its lyrical message) and ‘Tampa To Tulsa’ (an obvious nod to Neil Young, and a refreshing breather following the moodier ‘You Look So Young’) by drummer Tim O’Reagan, and ‘Will I See You In Heaven?’ by Marc Perlman. Matthew Sweet, known as a fairly prominent power pop singer-songwriter in his own right, cowrote ‘Stumbling Through The Dark’ (and its nice but inconsequential reprise) and provided backing vocals on a trio of songs, and Jakob Dylan added his own distinctive voice as a backing on ‘Come To The River’.

The one drawback to the album is that there isn’t a whole load of diversity, and even the faster songs are relatively restrained and tame, so one has to be in the right kind of mood to properly enjoy it. (And with 14 songs and running nearly an hour, the lack of diversity can be a little taxing.) Yet there’s a paradox when it comes to the title: these are songs that are just begging to be listened to on a bright, sunny day, whether the listener is driving on windy, tree-lined backroads or through the country with cornstalks and farmland on either side. But do yourself a favor, and don’t listen to it on a cold, rainy day, because it’ll just make you want warmer weather all the more.

Essential listening: Stumbling Through The Dark, Tailspin, Save It For A Rainy Day, One Man’s Problem, Don’t Let The World Get In Your Way, Madman, Will I See You In Heaven?