Album Review: Bill Callahan- Dream River

I’ll be the first to admit that I was a little late to the party on Bill Callahan.  I had seen the name Smog on various records in stores and reviewed in magazines throughout the years, but the first time I was privy to Callahan’s solo output was when I heard “Baby’s Breath” on the radio—unfortunately it was 89.3 The Current.

I was struck by how raw it was, so as it was still playing on the radio in the office I used to work in two years ago, I quickly went online to check The Current’s playlist to see what was playing.

Callahan makes music that is truly an acquired listen. It’s not for everyone. And even for the people it’s for, it’s not for every day. Callahan sets a specific mood and tone as soon as he opens up his mouth and that low baritone comes rolling out—and you’re either in it for the long haul, or it’s not going to happen that day.

I read a rather tepid review (5 out of 10) of Callahan’s newest offering, Dream River, a few weeks ago in the most recent issue of Under The Radar—an awful music magazine I foolishly subscribed to two years ago (hopefully my subscription is up soon.) Guys, if you think MY reviews are bad—check out some of the crap they write in UTR. It makes me look like I’m writing for The New Yorker.

Anyway, there’s nothing tepid about Dream River. Maybe the person who wrote the piece on it for UTR should go back and listen to it again, and then review their review. Callahan’s created an incredibly poignant, gorgeous, reflective set of songs—he’s a master storyteller and lyricist, and everything sounds that much more urgent and important because of his distinct speak/sing vocals.

“The only words I’ve said today are ‘beer,’ and ‘thank you,’” he confesses on the opening track “The Sing,” where he later says “Giving praise in a quiet way, like a church, that’s far away.” And there’s something strangely uneasy about way he sings “like a church”—I just can’t quite put my finger on it.  As a whole, Dream River is a mostly reserved rollercoaster of emotion and evocative imagery—“All I want to do is to make to love to you in the carless dirt,” Callahan says quietly but confidently, while jazz flute, congas, and unhinged electric guitars are wilding out behind him in “Spring.”

A self-awareness of your own mortality is a common thread that runs throughout the eight songs on Dream River—not just death, per se, but the passage of time—getting older, growing weary. Musically, Callahan crafts two kinds of tracks—the meditative, and the rhythmically hypnotic—occasionally the latter veering into a psychedelic freak out (see “Summer Painter.”)

Bill Callahan- "Small Plane"

The most meditative, as well as the standout from the album, comes early on in the form of “Small Plane.” “Flight” serves as a conceit for love—and in the hands of a less capable songwriter, that would probably not work. But this song is simply astounding. Slightly conservative in its arrangement, it allows Callahan’s voice to resonate the way it should, and his lyrics to settle in—

Sometimes you sleep when I take us home

That’s when I know we really have a home…

…Danger

I never think of danger

I really am a lucky man

Flying this small plane

In a strange move, rather than releasing a proper single prior to Dream River, Callahan opted to release a 12” single with two dramatic reinterpretations of songs from this album—“dub” versions of  “Javelin Unlanding,” and “Winter Road.”

In listening to these tracks well before the release of Dream River, while enjoying them, I was left wondering what the original versions would sound like. And now after listening to the LP, it seems like they serve as natural extensions or companions. There’s nothing “dubby” about Dream River, so placing these songs in a new context (“dry humor in ultra-wet remix versions”, as the press release says) adds an interesting, experimental layer.

Seasons play a big role in Dream River­—“Spring,” “Summer Painter,” “Winter Road;’ but it’s not a seasonal LP. Since it’s September, I want it to be a fall record. If you stretched it, “Small Plane,” could be a fall song. Callahan is able to write songs that transcend a certain time of year. It’s a gorgeous, complex effort, focusing on moments both large and small, and the seemingly insignificant, magnified to be significant.  

Dream River and the "Expanding Dub"/"Highs in The Mid-40's Dub" 12" single are available now via Drag City. It is worth noting the vinyl LP of Dream River does not come with a coupon to redeem an mp3 download of the album.