Album Review: Cracker's 'Berkeley to Bakersfield'

Crackereed: California duo singer/songwriter David Lowery (far right) and guitarist Johnny Hickman.

I first encountered Cracker mainstay David Lowery when his gleefully sarcastic Cali-based combo, Camper Van Beethoven, gained mid-'80s underground rock praise, picked up heavy college airplay and headlined a few small Manhattan gigs. Thereafter, he formed the equally sardonic Cracker with childhood pal Johnny Hickman, releasing a well-received self-titled '92 debut and its even more popular follow-up, Kerosene Hat, in '93, which contained the stoner anthem, "Low." Over a decade hence, with 10 albums under their collective belts, Cracker still maintains a solid cult-like following.

Back in the studio with his original Cracker lineup, Lowery's troupe decided to drop a stylishly contrasted double album, the interestingly diversified Berkeley to Bakersfield (listen to the sampler below). The first disc celebrates the hard-edged Bay Area rock scene Lowery was part of, while the second heads 300 miles southeast to the Golden State's rural vistas where twangy Country & Western is deified. In the end, the gritty indie rock side wins out against the prudently countrified chutzpah, but not by a lot.

Several snubbing political rants galvanize the Berkeley disc, including the opening salvo, "Torches and Pitchforks," and the brazenly electrified "March of the Billionaires," where Lowery cynically gives "three cheers" to upper class stiffs. The former will invite comparisons to urban folk mods such as Mumford & Sons and the Lumineers while the latter would fit alongside inventive gypsy punks, Man Man. 

Showing sensitivity for the less fortunate, Lowery sides with the underdog on several songs. Streetwise San Francisco treat, "El Cerrito" places hippies and punks on the edge as America's compromised society suffers from economic depression and working class blues. On "El Commandante," Lowery deprecates an authoritative dick who's out to burn the "young and foolish" for getting caught with"'just a bag of weed." Despite all the gloom and doom, jolly remembrance "Beautiful" salutes Gilman Street punks wearing blue mohawks and other crusty underground denizens. 

The gritty indie rock side wins out against the prudently countrified chutzpah, but not by a lot.

One of the most contagious numbers,"You Got Yourself Into This," slams the stormy Bay Area metropolis for allowing exclusionary wealth-based academia to crush the proletariat. A rumbling snipe draping Elvis Costello's "Pump It Up" groove across charming Bowie-like "Suffragette City" choruses, "Waited My Whole Life" may hold the most promise for radio airplay; it's a laid-back organ-droned love letter reminiscent of the Wallflowers "One Headlight."       

As for the Bakersfield side, Cracker follows up their '03 Countrysides covers album with a pristine set of authentic C&W originals. Banjo and steel guitar lead the way for the honky tonk-informed paeans and homeward bound travelogues.

"California Country Boy" is more Dwight Yoakam than Buck Owens and Merle Haggard, whose anti-weed "Okie from Muskogee" gets panned). Another conservative rip, "King of Bakersfield" blasts red state union men. Though the middle of the set drags a bit, "The San Bernardino Boy" temporarily quickens and the vibe loosens up. 

Lowery's crew may not be as proficient delivering C&W material, but the lonely laments about shadowy figures will still captivate hardened country fans. But it's the rocking side of this unique effort that will likely grab the attention of Cracker devotees. 

 

John Fortunato

John Fortunato

Longtime music critic with a special interest in beer, based in New Jersey. Check out his website beermelodies.com.