When Turnpike Troubadours imploded sometime after the release of A Long Way from Your Heart in 2017, it seemed like the inevitable end for a band destined to be a beloved cult act. Too modest and sharp to take big swings, too brawny to belong in clubs, they seemed like the modern definition of a working band inching their way into theaters as each reliable record expanded their songbook. By the end of the 2000s, they were big enough to fill out respectable venues, big enough to have acolytes as well as fans, but mainstream recognition still was looming on the horizon.
The stormclouds of success proved to be too much for Turnpike Troubadours, particularly for chief singer/songwriter Evan Felker. Addiction upended his life during the supporting tour for A Long Way from Your Heart, leading the band to take an indefinite hiatus in 2019. In their absence, other acts filled the void, such as Americana sensation Zach Bryan, who wrote a tribute to "Felker" somewhere in the deluge of songs he's released since 2019.
As luck would have it, Zach Bryan releases a new album--his fourth, it feels like his fortieth--the same day Turnpike Troubadours mounts a comeback with A Cat in the Rain. Bryan is more than comfortable operating on a grand scale: he's keeping company with the Lumineers and Kacey Musgraves on Zach Bryan, a collection that otherwise feels like another rambling late night on a porch with a friend who absolutely will not stop unloading his feelings no matter how much or how little whiskey he's drunk. Bryan's rambling intimacies swiftly accumulated a following that eclipses Turnpike Troubadours, even though A Cat in the Rain sounds rugged and earthy, the kind of music that could easily fill an outdoor shed.
The increased heft Turnpike Troubadours unveil on A Cat in the Rain is partially due to producer Shooter Jennings, who also lets the band play with shade and light by dressing their tunes with harmonies and adding accents that are by no means excessive. Like most of their records, it sounds better once it seeps into the subconscious. A Cat in the Rain moves steadily and deliberately, rarely taking the time to raise the tempo. The quicker tunes—such as "East Side Love Song (Bottoms Up)," a song designed for sun-drenched open roads—move nimbly, with the band sounding mightiest when they're sludging through the broken-down blues of "Black Sky" (an Ozark Mountain Daredevils cover) and "Mean Old Sun," where Felker dreads the onset of the dawn.
Evan Felker remains the focus of Turnpike Troubadours and his songs could be interpreted as autobiography, although they're too artful and keenly observed to be journal entries. Still, A Cat in the Rain emphasizes that Turnpike Troubadours isn't a vehicle for Felker, it's a band that gains sustenance from their own interplay. Their chemistry gives the sadder songs a glimmer of hope while bringing the good times back down to earth. It's a distinct sound that separates Turnpike Troubadours from their peers and disciples and it's never sounded better than it does on A Cat in the Rain.
Gary Young RIP (1953-2023)
It’s a stretch to call Gary Young a rock star but he certainly was a rock archetype: the freaky dude who existed in every scene, waiting for something new to blow his mind. Young found precisely such a thing when Stephen Malkmus and Scott Kannberg wandered into his home studio Louder Than You Think to record the earliest Pavement records. He sat in on Slay Tracks: 1933-1969 then soon became the group's drummer, staying aboard through the supporting tour of their landmark 1992 debut Slanted and Enchanted.
Previously destined to while away his hours in Stockton, California's punk scene, Gary Young suddenly was touring the world and elsewhere and he did what any other middle-aged rocker harboring dreams of stardom would do: he got blitzed on a daily basis. (See also: Robert Pollard.) Young's excess lent Pavement a curious tension: there was a sense that the band would go off the rails then wait around for help to arrive. He'd later argue "If it wasn't for me, with all the antics, I don't think it would have gone quite as far as it did." and he had a point. Without Young, Pavement could seem like a group of collegiate rockers but he lent the group a sense of unpredictability, even danger. More than that, his presence hinted at the eccentricities that would flourish in the music Pavement made long after they parted ways with Young.
Gary Young also was a distinctive drummer, suggesting swing while playing with a flat effect that pushed the band forward. His enthusiastic attack didn't quite jibe with Pavement's sardonic delivery yet it also complemented Malkmus and Kannberg, making them seem simultaneously odder and harder. Listen to the live recordings from this era, such as the Live Brixton Academy set from 1992 included on the Luxe & Reduxe edition of Slanted and Enchanted, and the difference between early and latter-day Pavement pulls into sharp relief: they sound volatile as if they can barely hold it together for a song.
It was an unstable dynamic. Rock bands need a reliable backbeat so Pavement first brought in second drummer Bob Nastonovich to steady the group then fired Young and brought in Steve West, whose quirks were dependable. Young went onto record the charmingly screwy album called Hospital in 1994, then delivered a sequel in 1999 but by that point, the moment had passed: the 1990s were over, bringing down the curtain on the rock & roll era.
Most of the music Pavement has made has been with Steve West in the drummer's seat, thereby relegating Gary Young to a footnote, beloved by those who were there—or almost there—during a brief moment in time. Efforts were afoot to help restore Young's reputation, chief among them a new documentary called Louder Than You Think, which premiered at SXSW earlier this year. Young died before the film achieved a wide release, a bittersweet but perhaps fitting ending for a drummer who always was somewhat out of time.