The words of Eric Brace and Peter Cooper have passed through cerebral cortexes more often in print than in song. But the two veteran music journalists were musicians before they were published scribes, which provides them with a ready answer to the comment all critics perpetually receive: If you know so much, why don't you create your own record (or book, film, painting, etc.)?
With their first duets album, You Don't Have to Like Them Both, they can gang up on anyone slinging snark their way. Fitting the wise-guy title, the collection comes across like a smart mix tape by a couple of well-versed, opinionated music fans.
In this case, the two take home-burned compilations a step further by gathering a few musician friends and cutting their favorite songwriter tunes set to laid-back, lightly swinging arrangements. Of course, it helps if your buds include world-class players like Steel Guitar Hall of Fame member Lloyd Green, as well as similarly funky and true players like drummer Paul Griffith, keyboardist Jen Gunderman and bassist Dave Roe. The lead guitar passes through several highly skilled hands, with Tim Carroll plugging in most often, and Kenny Vaughan and Richard Bennett adding their notes here and there. Tim O'Brien, another heroic figure, provides the mandolins and banjos.
The song choices won't surprise those familiar with the two writers' preferences: Cooper, the long-running resident music critic at The Tennessean, and Brace, a longtime contributor to the The Washington Post and other publications, lean toward wry, emotionally vivid singer-songwriters who mostly land outside of any popular genres to toil away in nightclubs and folk festivals.
Their own work—Brace as leader of Americana mood orchestra Last Train Home, Cooper as an acoustic solo artist—has never embarrassed them, and occasionally reaches the bar set by their heroes. But here they're mostly interpreters, not originators, and they come across as tasteful and sardonically wise. It's the musical version of a film series compiled by a well-liked hometown print reviewer, with the pieces chosen for their entertainment value as well as for their artfulness and human insights.
Brace contributes one original, "I Know a Bird," a wistful tune about displacement. Cooper pitches in two: the lighthearted "Denali, Not McKinley," about which name Alaskans prefer for their highest mountaintop, and the character commentary of "The Man Who Loves to Hate."
The covers include two songs by Jim Lauderdale, with others written in Nashville by fellow travelers Kevin Gordon, Paul Kennerley, Kris Kristofferson, David Olney and Todd Snider. Olney's "Omar Blues #2" and Kristofferson's "Just the Other Side of Nowhere," respectively, represent the duo at their lightest and weightiest. Brace also tips his hat to his D.C.-area roots by covering local hero Karl Straub.
Vocally, they take turns on lead, and their harmonies nicely pair Brace's beefy tone with Cooper's sweet tenor—which sounds more like Gram Parsons here than on last year's solo album. Neither will win any vocalist awards, but they're good at communicating nuances in conversational ways, which suits this material better than any showy vocalizing would. Musically, this sounds like a band that enjoys letting their instruments breath. Green shows he's a legend for a reason, and Griffith once again reveals why he's a master at slipping some soulful backbeats into melody-driven, singer-songwriter fare.
As with most cover albums, or mix tapes, this isn't meant to represent the most powerful music these two can conjure. Instead, it's a series of signposts, showing where they come from and where they want to go, For like-minded fans, it's a sampler that honors its sources, rather than diminishing them.
Email music@nashvillescene.com.
