It's been more than 10 years since Goshen-aka Grant Hayunga-released his first album,
Goshen
. Since then, his sound has evolved from brooding and often slow-tempoed alt.country groove to a signature sound, namely one of high-octane, chunky guitar, zooming slide work and almost spoken-word lyrics. Think Chris Isaac on crystal meth and cocktails. In a world where alt.country has become less a novel form and more a staple of most folks' collection, Goshen's sound has proven both unique
and problematic, in that its stubborn adherence to its own qualities requires
the listener to actually care about the music. And, of course, there's also the problem of it sounding, well, a bit repetitive.
Goshen's new disc,
Circus Wife
(Frogville Records, available now) is a disc that, like Santa Fe itself, is best when it strays from its own formula. And, again like our fair city, even when it sticks to the same, it's good. When it gets a little more loose, it's great. Let's start with the good. The second track, "Say It Say When" is Hayunga's formula at its best, psychedelic rockabilly that highlights Hayunga's deep signature voice effortlessly pumping out the words like diesel fuel. He's more poet than lyricist-Elvis as spoken-word artist-and the guitar work is more high-speed punctuation than anything else-Carl Perkins as drummer-and when that mixture is right, there's nothing better.
But sometimes the mixture's a little off, and by the end of
Circus Wife
, it's grown a bit tiresome. Hayunga is best when he departs from it, as in the opening track, "Believe It's True," a touching little love tune that doesn't try too hard, with either its lyrics ("What's come over me/what's got into you?," Hayunga asks with genuine sweetness), or with its catchy mid-tempo melody. It is still an unusual song, but in the best sense of the word.
It is the slower-paced songs like "Believe It's True" that make the album. "Sweet As Can Be" is an even slower one, bathed in plucky guitar licks, Bill Palmer's Hammond Organ work and pure vocals. It's a light ode to love, or rather, to being hung up on love. But the music indicates the hang-ups aren't too dangerous, this is a heart that'll mend soon, if it needs to at all.
Finally, there's "All That Really Exists," which combines the best elements of Hayunga's trademark songwriting. While many of his songs tend to chug along ahead of themselves, this one takes it easy, as Hayunga contemplates existential questions with a background made of rockabilly riffs and Bo Diddley beats. What could be more perfect?
There's another analogy between Hayunga's work and Santa Fe itself: It's easy to take both for granted. Sure, the City Different is tough to live in, and the faux-dobe works a nerve, and drinks are too expensive. But we all live here, right? And there are many reasons why that outweigh the bad. Similarly, while
Circus Wife
has its flaws (none, it should be said, on the level of Santa Fe's transgressions), I'm here to tell you, Hayunga is one of Santa Fe's gems. He churns out more high-quality, original tunes than many bands out there combined. We're lucky to have him, and to be invited into the strange rockabilly-poet-world he inhabits.
