Receive Weekly Email and Text Message Updates:
Sign up for latest info on concerts, dining, promotions and more!
Go!

Related Stories ...

Reader's Picks

Top Recommendations

A short list of Kansas City's most popular hot spots.
user content provided by: LikeMe.net & The Pitch

National Features >

  • City Pages

    Michele Bachmann, Unmuzzled

    You don't need to read Sarah Palin's book to hear the ravings of a mad woman.

    By Matt Snyders

  • Miami New Times

    Pimp Daddy

    The rise and fall of a chubby sex-cult leader.

    By Natalie O'Neill

  • Riverfront Times

    Babe 'n' Arms

    Tom was a hot-tempered cross-dresser with a garage full of guns--and then he became Rachel.

    By Nicholas Phillips

  • Dallas Observer

    The Fight for Texas

    Rick Perry and Kay Bailey Hutchison are locked in a battle over the soul of the GOP. They're also running for governor.

    By Sam Merten

Various Artists

Going Driftless: A Tribute to Greg Brown (Red House)

Share

  • rss

By Mike Warren

Published on October 03, 2002

This tribute to a still-very-much-alive songwriter pairs Greg Brown's elegantly brusque songs with some of the best female singer/songwriters out there as a benefit for the Breast Cancer Fund. Brown has always made music as rugged as his own salty, Iowa-based vision, and his songs have appeared in places as disparate as Prairie Home Companion (where he grumbles carelessly about NPR) and epigrams in fantasy-noir novels such as Neil Gaiman's American Gods.

Brown's thoughts are far from macho, but they're unmistakably male. Having women sing Brown's songs brings his lyrics into focus. As Lucinda Williams, Gillian Welch and Mary Chapin Carpenter tackle his love of nature, love of lovemaking and growing disgust with what his country has become, Brown somehow becomes an even realer person than he is on his own albums.

Songs about daughters, part of what makes this tribute so fitting, are another recurring theme in Brown's work. His tribute to his great-grandmother, who grew up in the Ozarks, takes on new meaning when sung in three-part harmony by Brown's own daughters, Zoe, Pieta and Constie. When Iris Dement sings "The Train Carrying Jimmie Rodgers Home," it's as if the song's narrator, waiting patiently for Rodgers' funeral train to pass, has become Rodgers' granddaughter rather than Brown's old codger. "Say a Little Prayer," sung well by Shawn Colvin, is just that -- a little prayer that his daughter, who probably has just a cold or just a flu, will get well. A lesser writer would kill the song with cuteness or sentiment; a lesser singer might lose the self-deprecating humor of the parent's anxiety. Colvin leaves listeners with the kind of fragile grin that turns to laughing tears if witnessed. For fans of the singers or the songs (and the many who are fans of both), this is a tribute done just right.