TBTS Reviews: Ida Con Snock 

In recent years, a new-fangled movement has bubbled up from underground music circles, one cringingly described as “freak folk.” Think Joanna Newsom. Devendra Banhart. Countless jug bands of varying degrees of talent.

When I could conceivably still be called a “kid,” everyone who played music played in a punk or indie-rock band. When I got old and was living in Eugene, Oregon, the kids didn’t play punk, but “old-timey” music. The boys wore hobo fashion that hadn’t been seen since the 20s. The girls wore what looked to be uncomfortable dresses and petticoats. Indie-rock stars began to release country albums. Suddenly it was cool to be a redneck. I finally felt authentic.

It was odd. I’ve been a fan of pre-war blues and country since I was 13 and the Robert Johnson box set was released (admittedly, I bought it because Jimmy Page blurbed it). The music to come out of this gathering (don’t you just hate “movements”?) is great. What’s tripped me out has been the hipsterization of music that, to any Southerner or Appalachian, is as natural as fried chicken for Sunday supper. That, and the fetish-izing of authenticity and poverty (I will only say this — John Fahey — if there was ever a freak in the folk scene, it was he — had a field day with just this sort of thing in the 50s and 60s).

I guess what I’m saying is that I’m torn about all of this. I love the music. I hate the hipsters.

One thing I’m not torn about is what this has meant for Michael Hurley. If there was ever a musician who deserved the larger attention that he has begun to garner, it is Hurley (or Snock, as he is sometimes known).

Hurley’s career is the stuff of legends, and harkens back to the near mythological pre-war blues artists he so frequently adapts and updates. He has a birth date that is often prefixed by “reportedly” or “circa.” He’s lived all over the country, drifting here then there, living and playing in one area before moving on to the next. In 1965, Hurley made his first recording for the Smithsonian Folkways label, using the same microphone that Leadbelly used to make his last record.

In the 40+ years since that record, Hurley has managed to fly just under the radar, largely avoiding the spotlight and commercial success that so often destroys or warps artists, all while managing to record the kind of music he wants to record without having to conform to anyone’s pre-conceived notion of what Michael Hurley music is supposed to sound like. What has emerged is a solid body of sound, one as easily rooted in the 78 recordings of Blind Blake and Papa Charlie Murphy as it is in the more modern Country and Western of Juice Newton and Tom T. Hall.

Staying true to his vision has begun to pay off. Artists as different as Lucinda Williams, Taj Mahal, Sun Volt, and Cat Power have either covered his songs or toured with him. A few years back, NPR ran a story. Kids in black clothes and aesthetically messy hair began turning up at shows looking bored. As Hurley said about his recent popularity on the festival circuit, “Whenever they have one, they have to have their grandfather with them, which is good for me, because my peers aren’t going to come out that night anyway.”

Ida Con Snock is the latest addition to Hurley’s already sizable discography, and it is one of his best in recent years. As the title suggest, Hurley teamed up with Ida, who provide the most solid accompaniment I’ve heard on a Hurley album since Weatherhole. Each song, whether updates of Hurley classics like “Hog of the Forsaken” and “Wildgeeses,” or covers of 30s swing standards like “Ragg Mopp,” paints a perfectly balanced sonic landscape, one where Hurley’s now gruff voice and finger-picked guitar blends with Ida’s subtle use of feedback and understated singing.

The result is an album that both sounds like Michael Hurley, yet sounds completely new.

For those well versed in the Snock, this will be a welcome addition, one that will reintroduce you to a few favorites, to some new songs, and to a few that have become staples of Hurley’s live shows. For those just checking him out, Ida Con Snock offers the easiest and perhaps most accessible entry point. Unlike 2007’s Ancestral Swamp, which was largely recorded by Hurley at his home, (and thus has a very homemade feel), ICS was recorded at Levon Helms’ studio in Woodstock, New York. That extra care has lead to a more polished (without being slick) and coherent recording.

The lyrical content continues to be pure Hurley, a mixture of the personal, the humorous, and the sad, a universe where the dividing line between the animal and human kingdoms is as artificial as our self-imposed limits on the imagination. For me, the standout track on ICS has to be the new rendering of “Wildgeeses,” one of the most beautiful and honest love songs I’ve ever heard.

If you’re burnt out on the hip posturing and gimmicks that seem to be so much a part of music these days, give Michael Hurley a chance. He has been known to soften even the hardest of hearts.

Ida Con Snock, Gnomonsong, $12.00.