Calexico: Hot Rail (City Slang)
There is mood aplenty in this second collection from this offshoot of the equally intriguing American indie band, Giant Sand. And the mood is murky, somewhat sinister, captured evocatively by this B-movie film score. We are near the border down Mexico way, but this time around there are more Tom Waits-ish whispered confidences and a little less border bolero and stetson twang; yet the music of John Convertino and Joey Burns still coveys flickering desert images, albeit mixed with the more European drama of tracks such as Untitled 11. Their songs, dogged by weak vocals, are however, also better formed - though it is the atmosphere created by instrumentals such as the opening Tijuana brass-drenched El Picador, the more restrained Sonic Wind or the beautiful Muleta which is their trademark.
Willie Nelson and the Offenders: Me and the Drummer (Luck Records)
There is something about Willie Nelson's voice that bends the hardest heart. Perhaps it is the vulnerability implied by the slightly cracked quiver, or that worn sadness drawn so vividly by his craggy voice of experience - or perhaps it is his ability to massage a song into a shape that suits his talents, but he remains one of the most distinctive and comforting voices around. This new collection, 12 originals and one cover, recorded on the new Luck label (it is a CD-extra with bits of typically self-indulgent video, etc for those who play it through a PC) is a return to traditional Nelson territory. It is also a wonderfully understated, old-fashioned performance of Texas swing, country and blues. The songs are brimful of lachrymose sentiments, yet they never overbalance into tawdry cheap entertainment, but then that is the genius of Nelson.