Uncle Tupelo / Still Feel Gone (1991)
I discovered alt.country (or Americana or No Depression or....) in early 1994. I was a sophomore in college. I'd just made a new group of friends, and our musical tastes were spread all over the place. I was still locked into "classic rock," despite hating that tag. I mean, I was really only drawn to certain areas of “genre”: Springsteen, Neil Young, CCR, Beatles, Stones. I didn't like Eric Clapton, Rush or Yes. Pink Floyd were ok. Zeppein weren't my thing (that would change decades later). My friends and I played a lot of the same music weekend-over-weekend: the aforementioned acts, Nirvana, Pearl Jam, Public Enemy..... It felt like we needed a new sound. Something to keep things moving.
Crawling back to you now
I sold my guitar, to the girl next door
She asked me if I knew how
I told her, I don't think so, anymore
Sometime in early 1994, my buddies Matt and Cubby invited their friend Andrew Flanders down from Bowdoin. Quite possibly the most laconic person I've ever met, on a random night, Flanders asked if I wanted his extra ticket to see a band at The Paradise. "They're called Uncle Tupelo; I think you'll like them." I considered it for a minute and passed. Some other band of the day was playing at our school that night: Spin Doctors, maybe? I can't recall. I do recall leaving that show just 2-3 songs in and wondering if I should've gone to The Paradise with Flanders. We all gathered the next morning. I asked Flanders about the show. "Great," was all he could muster. I asked if I could hear the band. He quietly walked to his car, grabbed a CD, returned and fired up Uncle Tupelo's Anodyne. He went right to "New Madrid." Speechless. Both my buddy Brian and me. WHAT IS THIS?!?! A gorgeous mix of Neil Young, Johnny Cash and The Clash. In three minutes, music shifted from a love to a lifelong project. Who inspired this? Who was also playing in this world? Gram Parsons, The Replacements, Big Star, V-Roys, Jayhawks, Son Volt, Golden Smog, The Possibilities, The Backsliders, Whiskeytown, Blue Mountain, Marah, Hazeldine. The list would go on forever. And it's still being filled out.
I can only sing it loud
Always try to sing it clear
What the hell are we all doing here
Making too much of nothing
Or creating one unholy mess
An unfair study in survival, I guess
After being introduced to Uncle Tupelo, I called my local record store, Ramsey Books & Records in New Jersey, ahead of a return home, and ordered all four UT records. When I arrived home a few weeks later, I called the store daily checking on delivery timing. On the 5th or 6th call, they had arrived. I remember heading to that record store as if hearing those records, top-to-bottom, over-and-over, was the only thing that mattered. Of the four, I played them in order, starting with 1990's No Depression. I loved it. I then moved on to 1991's Still Feel Gone. I paused after the first listen. I had to listen again. Record #3 would have to wait. This felt like my life. Not exactly the Midwestern home, but there was something. Small town, looking for a way out, blue collar upbringing, sights on escape. I was always looking for a way out. I never felt at home in my conservative, predominately white, corner of New Jersey. It felt like a town I was forced into, but would one day abandon.
You spent your whole life in this county
You've never been out of state
You say, you're gonna make it out before it's too late
I listened to that record for what felt like a year straight. I remember grabbing lunch with my buddy Bob and forcing the record on him. I think I made him a tape: Still Feel Gone on side one, I have no clue on side two. The themes just felt like my life. Raised by my incredibly thoughtful mother and my stepfather, a quiet but kind police officer; it felt like my story was buried in one of these songs. Maybe all of these songs. And the occasional weekend at my father's fit right in with the booze-infused world I was hearing in these songs. I got it. It was the perfect fusion of the two families that raised me.
I ultimately fell for all of the Uncle Tupelo records. And when they disbanded and split into Wilco and Son Volt, I rode that wave all the way through to today. I'd see these bands, and their brethren and offshoots, everywhere: New York, Chicago, Cincinnati, Jersey, Boston, Providence, New Haven, Austin, Charleston, Philly, Denver, Minneapolis and places in between. But it was Still Feel Gone that put me on that path, a path I'll probably follow for good.
And as the carousel goes 'round
The slides are upside down
There's nothing to make out, or even notice
And if that's alright, then it's alright
