Cracker
Cracker - Countrysides

Cracker is one of those bands the indie crowd loves to hate. Oblivious to notions of “cool” and “hip,” too engaged for ironic detachment and too overtly satirical for the po-mo crowd, David Lowery and Co. have been around long enough by now to realize that the only thing wrong with grabbing for the brass ring is missing the damn thing. The fact that Lowery’s last outfit, Camper Van Beethoven, practically invented the notion of indie rock only adds fuel to the anti-Cracker bonfire.

Whatever the perception of previous albums, Countrysides is clearly a labor of love. Cracker has always had a way with the country-inflected tunes they’ve sprinkled amidst their decade-old catalogue and covered live—it’s arguably their strong suit. With that in mind, the band decided to give voice to their inner redneck and release an all-country record. To hone their chops and get into a country music frame of mind, the band eschewed the Cracker fan base and familiar venues to tour biker bars and redneck saloons under the slightly ham-fisted sobriquet, Ironic Mullet.

Six months and countless Winged Lizards later, Cracker recorded the nine songs that make up the disc (eight covers and one original; another four cuts were available online). The result is a nice blend of familiar chestnuts—full-on garage rave-ups of Ray Wylie Hubbard’s “Up Against the Wall Redneck Mother” (made famous by Merle Haggard) and Hank Williams Jr.’s “Family Tradition”—and slightly lesser known gems like Bruce Springsteen’s “Sinaloa Cowboys” and Terry Allen’s “Truckload of Art.”

But it’s the contemporary paean to life on the road, “Duty Free,” by Ike Reilly, that best captures Cracker’s country strengths. The rambling narrative is the perfect vehicle for Lowery’s craggy vocals and irreverent singing style and Johnny Hickman’s sinuous guitar. It’s also the closest you’ll hear Cracker get to that other Lowery band.

The news isn’t all good, however. “Tonight, the Bottle Let Me Down” has a perfunctory, hung-over rote-ness to it—the audio equivalent of a dry heave. And though Countrysides’ lone original, “It Ain’t Gonna Suck Itself,” is an amusing record-company kiss-off, its sell-by date is probably not far down the road—novelty songs have infamously short shelf lives.

But that’s mostly splitting mullet hairs. Overall, Countrysides is a well-crafted tribute to the country influences most bands either pretend they’ve never heard or, conversely, revere like some musty field recording. It’s supposed to be fun, too, and that’s where Countrysides succeeds – no matter what the cool kids say.