One of the most disheartening breakups in recent memory was 6 String Drag, the North Carolina country-soul band that quietly dissolved in late 1998 after giving tantalizing hints of their potential. But anyone who discovered 6 String Drag’s largely overlooked 1997 album High Hat will find plenty to like in Mercury’s Blues, leader Kenny Roby’s solo debut.
Augmented by some Backsliders, Whiskeytowners and even ex-6 String Draggers, Roby offers up his usual wise-guy charm on Mercury’s Blues, mostly concentrating on the poppier Elvis Costello/Randy Newman quadrant of his influences. Nowhere near as sprawling or combustible as 6 String Drag, the album lopes along at the pace of a slow drawl, opening at a tempo that sounds like a decelerating heartbeat as Roby declares, “Most people get what they deserve/Baby, I got you.”
A number of songs make nods to Tom Waits, most notably the two-part “Early Mornin’ Blues” — a political song about Bill Clinton that doesn’t take sides, yet nevertheless leaves you feeling sorry for the ol’ boy. Like our intrepid Commander in Chief, Roby comes off as a thoughtful country boy, a smart guy with an appreciation for the simple pleasures of fishing, dogs, baseball and purty girls in fancy low-cut dresses. Mercury’s Blues is likewise a simple pleasure that wears well.
The one full-time 6 String Drag member who doesn’t show up on Mercury’s Blues is bassist Rob Keller, whose harmony singing made him the ideal vocal foil for Roby, especially on those old Louvin Brothers covers. Offering partial compensation is an album Roby made recently with Neal Casal, Black River Sides, on which the duo covers John Prine, Townes Van Zandt, Tom T. Hall and, yes, the Louvins (a nicely harmonized “When I Loved You”). They also offer a handful of originals, including a reprise of “Guilty” from 6 String Drag’s High Hat and “Maybe California” from Casal’s 1995 debut Fade Away Diamond Time.
Even more spare, bare-bones and informal than Roby’s solo album, Black River Sides conjures up a back-porch hootenanny so convincingly that you can almost taste the beer. And it takes no imagination at all to hear the sonic ambience — the album closes with six-and-a-half minutes of chanting crickets.
