Pull Up Some Dust And Sit Down

In the same way that Neil Young gave a vitriolic state of the nation report to America with 2006's "Living with war" we now have another veteran guitarist and giant of real music making a similar declaration. Like Young, the Californian master musician Ry Cooder doesn't like very much of what he sees at the present time whether it be greedy bankers, embezzling landlords, lamentable television, rabble rousing politicians and the prospect of young men being sent into early graves. The great news is that he wraps up all this social comment in "Pull up some dust and sit down" in some of the finest songs he has recorded in years. This album sees a return to the funky preoccupations of "Bop til you drop" with an excellent gospel base, a nice Mexican tinge and a reverential nod to the folk protest of Woody Guthrie. Throughout the musicianship is so good its almost criminal and its worth stressing that as a protest album Cooder's latest is jam packed with sly humour and repeated listens will leave you with a very broad grin.

The whole album sets out its stall with "No Banker left behind" inspired by a Robert Scheer column in the Huffington Post where Cooder arraigns these vile creatures and comments "Well the bankers called a meetin', to the Whitehouse they went one day/They was going to call on the president, in a quiet and a sociable way/The afternoon was sunny and the weather it was fine/They counted all our money and no banker was left behind". It is very funny but also very cutting, a national anthem for a new depression which could be adopted by the US and a dozen other countries, Next is the excellent Mexican flavoured "El Corrida de Jesse James" which is followed by two of the albums massive highlights. First up is the atmospheric and lovely "Dirty Chateau" a song about the trials and tribulations of Latino immigration where his haunting guitar skills are at a premium. "Humpty Dumpty World" alternatively is the song on the album where Cooder imagines the Lord looking down from heaven with despair and just about indicts the gamut of modern creation. Although special ire is reserved for politicians who are cast as "Craven minions sent from down below/occupy the highest portals of the land/as swift is their climb as sure is their decline/Straight back to hell from whence they came". Superb stuff delivered with the kind of funky panache which is Cooder's special calling card.

The most deceptive song on the album is "Christmas time this year" which on the surface sounds like a jolly Tex Mex romp but was clearly written as an anti Bush war protest song firmly in the tradition of Country Joe McDonald's "Feel Like I'm Fixing To Die Rag". These themes are powerfully reprised on the six minute deep blues tour de force "Baby joined the army" where Cooder regrets the conscription of a beloved son. In addition Cooder even manages to perform a brilliant passing impersonation of the old Crawling King Snake "John Lee Hooker for President" and in "I want my crown" produces one of the most swampy blues songs since Dylan's "Cold Irons Bound". The whole thing is rounded off by the stunningly beautiful "No hard feelings" where the ghost of Woody Guthrie is summoned in the opening line where Cooder intones "That this land should have been our land" and proves that as a emotive songwriter he has few peers.

Ultimately all leads you to question why is it that only seasoned veterans like Young, Springsteen or Cooder currently have the confidence and verve to take on the big themes and deliver works which are musically sublime but also have something important to say? As it stands "Pull up some dust and sit down" is one of Cooder's best albums period and is simply magnificent.

His California Trilogy behind him, Ry Cooder now turns his attention to the state of the nation. No spoiler alert needed, but it isn't exactly a favourable report on the Land of the Free.

Starting with 2005's `Chavez Ravine', Cooder's music has become increasingly politicised and there are few holds barred here, with the banking crisis, the war in Iraq, immigration and the environment just a few of his targets.

All Cooder's traditional musical styles are amply represented here, from dustbowl-style acoustic blues through Tex-Mex, rock `n' roll, gospel, doo-wop, old-time crooners and then some.

There are welcome cameos from a number of familiar Cooder stalwarts: Jim Keltner, Flaco Jimenez, Terry Evans, Arnold McCuller and Willie Green all make appearances, alongside son Joachim Cooder and vocalist Juliette Commagere, an ever-present since `Chavez Ravine'.

"Baby Joined The Army" is a long, bleak, raw, stripped down and primal blues, in which the protagonist chillingly and tellingly observes "They told me if I get killed in battle, I still get paid". Bet that was a winning line down at the recruitment stations.

"Humpty Dumpty World" and "Lord Tell Me Why" are musical throwbacks to such albums as "Bop Till You Drop" and "Borderline", the latter interesting for its paradoxical use of a blatantly Afro-American vocal arrangement to bemoan the fact that "A white man ain't worth nothing in this world no more". Along with the rocking "I Want My Crown" it's arguably the best thing on the album.

Despite the pervading seriousness, there's still much fun to be had. "John Lee Hooker for President" imagines the late great bluesman running for the White House, Cooder capturing his idiosyncratic style (and voice) to a tee whilst peppering the lyrics with as many of Hooker's iconic phrases as can feasibly be squeezed into six minutes. Somewhere up in boogie heaven that big old deep brown voice must be chortling away at the very idea.

Almost as bizarrely, "El Corrido De Jesse James" has the infamous outlaw itching for the opportunity to come back and relieve his `banking brothers' of their ill-gotten bonuses. Honour among thieves, presumably the message here.

On the gentler side, "No Hard Feelings" brings to mind the likes of "That's The Way Love Turned Out For Me" (from `The Slide Area') whilst "Dirty Chateau", featuring Commagere's dusky harmony vocals along with some rare but oh so tasteful strings, glides effortlessly all the way home.

Protest songs have clearly come an awful long way since Seeger and Dylan.

After completing his epic California Trilogy, with its stories of life in his home state in the 40s and 50s, Ry Cooder returns with a solo project that is as refreshing, brave and original as his early recordings in the 70s.
This time round there are no elaborate narratives, but there is a common theme: these are songs of a broken, divided society and the gap between rich and poor, but with the anger matched against humour. He's a master at setting bleak or thoughtful lyrics against jaunty melodies.
"No Banker Left Behind" is the story of bankers on a spree after they "robbed the nation blind", set to a romping, country-edged tune, while "Christmas Time This Year" places a horrific story of war casualties against a cheerful Mexican dance melody, with accordion from Flaco Jiménez.
Ry Cooder plays guitar, mandola, banjo, bass and keyboards, and constantly changes direction from the evocative portrait of a rich man and his maid in "Dirty Chateau" to the gospel-edged stomp of "Lord Tell Me Why ("a white man ain't worth nothing in this land no more"), which is quickly followed by the witty blues of "John Lee Hooker for President".
He ends with "No Hard Feelings", a finely sung ballad that first rewrites Woody Guthrie ("this land should have been our land") and ends in despair and resignation.
Magnificent. R. Denselow