Hailing from the tiny Michigan town of Chelsea, the Holy Cows are living proof that you don’t have to grow up in the big city to have metropolitan proportioned aspirations or difficulties. The Cows sport a big rockin’ groove that never overwhelms the little tales of despair they’re telling at any given moment.
Blueberrie is a fair leap forward from their Big Pop debut, 1995′s Get Along, but there are still a number of similarities. Both albums exhibit the kind of sloppy Midwestern charm that made the Replacements so endearing. But where Get Along had more in common with the Replacements as a group, Blueberrie offers the maturity and introspection of the Replacements as solo artists.
The leadoff track, “Punched a Friend”, is all bluster and swagger and offers this observation: “Have you ever felt you’d learned a lesson while spitting out a tooth?” Elsewhere, especially on “How’s Your Head” and “(It Ain’t The) Dyin’ That’s Hard”, vocalist John Popovich delivers like a cross between Kevin Salem and Freedy Johnston, both musically and lyrically. One of the disc’s many emotional and musical high points is the full-tilt breakup ode “Your Garbage Man”, every bit as tender as it is tough and a good example of everything the Cows do so effectively, with great lyrics and lots of stylistic changes.
The beauty of the Holy Cows is that no matter how many influences you can pick out of their mix (a dash of Neil Young, a pinch of ‘Mats, a smidgen of Uncle Tupelo), their sound never comes at the expense of their predecessors. The band’s talent is in writing songs that sound familiar and yet fresh, and in referencing the past without becoming slavish to it.
