Ode to the Cowboy Junkies

What makes a jamband a jamband? Suppose I described to you a band that actively encouraged taping - to the point of occasionally having their archivist offering to guest list taper. This band plays a different set list every night. They frequently use the word "improvisational" to describe their live show. Would you call them a jamband? The band I have just described is the Cowboy Junkies.

I first saw the Junkies at the Moore Theatre on the Lay It Down tour. I bought my tickets on a whim at the very last second. At the box office, the woman explained to me that all that was left were some rows that were released when they didn't need the wheelchair section. Apologetically, she explained that all that was left was front row center. I would somehow have to deal.

At the time of the concert, I was a huge fan of Pale Sun Crescent Moon. The songs reminded me of I-10 through southern New Mexico. The beauty of the third verse of "Crescent Moon" was like the beauty of the desert. I was haunted by this song. Even as I listen to it now, I'm tempted to drive across the mountains, out to the Columbia River and... and... well if I knew what I was supposed to do when I got there, I'd leave right now. It's the call of the wind, implying that you could step right out of this world, but giving no clues as to how to do it. I figured that if they had that kind of effect on me, I should spend the $20 and go see them.

When I walked in, I discovered that I was off in my theory about their sound. Off by about 2000 miles, that is. Peter's [1] drum kit had a scene painted on it. Rather than the desert landscape I thought of, it was a scene from the Canadian prairies. In retrospect, it fit in well. Their world is filled with small towns, open spaces, and extremely cold winters. I should have caught on. No resident of Las Cruces would ever refer to winter as, "the siege to come."

While I don't remember much about the music played that night (other than getting "Muppets Tonight In the Trailer Park" stuck in my head for about a month) a large impression was still made. In the middle of the set, Margo started to tell a story. While the other band members drove from the heart of Canada to make the show, she decided to fly to Seattle. While going through Customs, she saw a cute dog and tried to befriend it. Apparently getting the attention of a drug sniffing dog is not always a good thing; she got called into the back room for a more elaborate search.

While there, she was questioned extensively about some antibiotics. They stopped pressing that point long enough to ask her how long she would be in the country. Customs found it very odd that someone would stay for a month and only have the one bag. "Oh you see, I'm a musician and the rest of my stuff is in our bus."

"Really? What's the name of your band then?"

.... long pause....

She considered using telling Customs that she was in the Timmins Family Band, but she finally mumbled, "The Cowboy Junkies." The Customs woman look at Margo for a long moment. "I know you," she exclaimed. "You play those slow songs."

I like my rock stars smaller than life. I saw Bruce Springsteen once and his high octane charisma thing annoyed me. I'm not looking for a person who has a good act, I'm looking for a person who is comfortable being who they are. In that sense, Margo reminds me a lot of Trey. Sit down and listen to the Cheesecake speech from Big Cypress. It is anything but slick. Trey stumbles over his words and loses his train of thought and changes his mind at the last second. It's very humanizing. Watching Margo on stage is similar. She'll start to dance for a second and then stop. She'll tell stories that have no real ending and rarely are as action packed as the Customs story. Many rock stars come across as an unattainable role model. Margo Timmins projects the image of someone that you would want to hang out with. It would be fun to hang out on their tour bus on a long drive and swap road stories.

I got a chance to find out. At the end of the show, Margo casually mentioned that she would be signing autographs after the show. I got my poster (a show promo that I took off the wall) signed and we joked about my air drumming during the set. This is a band that really understands the concept of fan friendliness. This carries over to all aspects of their work. Phish care about their fans and their web site has some interesting links, but it's nothing compared to the Junkies site. Sure there's a section where they sell stuff, but that's more of an after thought than anything. It's easier to find the stories about the making of all of their albums, photo essays, and about 15 songs that you can download in their entirety.

During the Eminem Grammy controversy, the same point came out over and over again. Eminem didn't believe the hatred he was spewing, he was just singing in the point of view of a character. The question his defenders never have answered is, "Is this an interesting character?" Do we really need another 2 dimensional hate spewing violent persona? If you're interested in more complex characters, this is the band I would steer you towards. There's the woman in "Good Friday" who is focusing on the first day of spring, the sunrise, the return of birds to the area, anything other than the fact that her life has just fallen apart. There is the ramblings of the newly single in "Sun Comes Up, It's Tuesday Morning." There's the two sides of "Come Calling", one from perspective of a man watching his wife slip into senility and drinking to forget it, one from her spacey perspective. There are the multiple slices of lives in "Southern Rain" and "Murder Tonight in the Trailer Park." Most of all though, there is "Misguided Angel."

"Misguided Angel" is the anti-Eminem. It's written from the point of view of a woman who is trying to explain why she is attracted to an abuser. At the end of the song, her boyfriend starts putting pressure on her to marry him. When the chorus is repeated for the last time, all of the instruments drop out for her claim that she'll "Love you til I'm dead." The foreshadowing of her death at his hands is creepy... creepy and powerful. This is the song that should be winning Grammies.

The above examples do point out a theme to the Cowboy Junkies. They're not exactly the happiest band. On the bleakness meter [2], I'd place them between people like Joni Mitchell and the more optimistic notes of the Grateful Dead. There is hope in the Cowboy Junkies world, in fact there's an entire song ("New Dawn Coming") that expresses hope that darkness will end. However, their power is the power of the dark, of the long winters. As a resident of Seattle, I can appreciate the dark side, and am glad to have the soundtrack for my winters.

Are you weary? Are you sinking?
Are you tired of holding up the walls?

Are you done with all your thinking?
Have you found that there's no one at all?

Hold on honey, there's a new dawn coming
And a big bird to sweep you away.
Keep on dreaming, soon there'll be a reason
To see it through one more day.

[1] Three of the four core members of the Cowboy Junkies- Margo, Michael, and Peter are siblings. Only the bassist (Alan Anton) is not a Timmins.

[2]From darkest to least dark, it goes:

Lisa Germano (There's no chance of happiness ever)
Mazzy Star
Joni Mitchell (esp early Joni Mitchell)
The Indigo Girls
The Cowboy Junkies
The Grateful Dead (starting to get optimistic)
Widespread Panic
Phish (a recent entry due to songs like "Frankie Says" and their cover of "Oh! Sweet Nuthin'")
Every other band in existence
String Cheese Incident (Hey you got to listen to something when you're happy)

David Steinberg got his Masters Degree in mathematics from New Mexico State University in 1994. He first discovered the power of live music at the Capitol Centre in 1988 and never has been the same. His Phish stats website is at www.ihoz.com/PhishStats.html and he was the stats section editor for The Phish Companion.