John Mellencamp's fascination
with the American heartland came into full flower on Scarecrow, but
with its follow-up, The Lonesome Jubilee, he began exploring American
folk musics, adding fiddle, accordions, and acoustic guitars to his
band, which allowed him to explore folk and country. The expansion of
his band coincided with his continuing growth as a songwriter. Song
for song, The Lonesome Jubilee is Mellencamp's strongest album, the
record where he captured his romantic, if decidedly melancholy, vision
of working-class America. He may recycle the same lyrical ideas as
before, but he captures them better than ever, and his music is
richer, which gives the album resonance. Again, there are a few
moments where Mellencamp's reach exceeds his grasp, but "Paper in
Fire," "Check It Out," "Cherry Bomb," "Empty Hands," and "Hard Times
for an Honest Man" make the record his best.
by Thom Jurek, All Music Guide
Lonesome Jubilee was the only
step John Mellencamp could take after Scarecrow. On the former album
he had developed a new standard for heartland rock without expanding
its sound much; it had acoustic undertones but was largely urban music
fueled by R&B. Mellencamp expanded his band on the latter recording,
adding Lisa Germano's violin to the mix, and a boatload of acoustic
instruments -- from autoharp, accordion, penny whistle, claves,
mandolins, banjos and hammer dulcimer -- as well as lap and pedal
steel. His songwriting, too, delved deeper into folk styles, along
with his own re-visioning of North Appalachian country. The result is
a deeply textured, resonant, multi-dimensional and very dynamic rock &
roll sound. Mellencamp's songwriting was also inspired, and moved
another notch or two from the leaner, more poetic style he displayed
on much of Scarecrow. Though often somber, his lyrics reflect an
engagement with the subtleties of everyday life and its joys,
disappointments, and sufferings. The pastoral meets the gritty reality
of city and suburbs on tracks like "Empty Hands" and "Down and Out in
Paradise," The rollicking opener, "Paper in Fire," is fueled by
Germano's fiery fiddle and Larry Crane's banjo and dobro playing. The
R&B doesn't totally disappear, as Crystal Taliefero's scorching
backing vocal attests, lifting Mellencamp's refrain to a frenzied
height. It's one of the finest rock & roll songs he's authored, and
its blend of instruments and textures has often been imitated, but
never equaled. The biggest hit from the album is the infectious and
utterly irrepressible "Cherry Bomb." A nostalgic paean to the
innocence and folly of youth, its squeezebox and fiddle shuffling
along on top of Kenny Aronoff's clipped, crisp snare is pure
finger-popping joy. Mellencamp's words are to the point; they never
drip idle sentimentality, and they offer sharp portraits of the past
as a way of accepting the present. As a songwriter, one of
Mellencamp's greatest gifts is to inspire his listeners through
portrayals of the experiential wisdom of everyday life. Tracks like
"Real Life," "We the People," and "Check It Out" do just that. The
medium -- acoustic-based rock & roll lengthened to include the earthy,
rural roots musics -- multiplies the empathy in his words. Combine
them with undeniable hooks, and what comes out of the box is not only
memorable, but seemingly timeless in its appeal. And Lonesome Jubilee,
more than any album in Mellencamp's catalog, is just that: timeless.
It is a work of popular art that reflects upon and celebrates the
complexities and shared common experiences of life in America. This is
ambitious rock & roll that communicates its intent effortlessly,
soulfully, and viscerally. [Lonesome Jubilee was remastered for CD in
2005 and includes a bonus track form the session called "Blues From
the Front Porch," driven by Crane's National Steel acoustic with
urgent vocals by Taliefero and Pat Peterson].
by Rickey Wright, Amazon.com
The Lonesome Jubilee continued
Scarecrow's stylistic and thematic examination of the rustic and
rural. While it's not quite the knockout its predecessor was, the
album does find Mellencamp and band in an undeniable groove. It's also
hard to dispute the details of vignettes such as "Cherry Bomb" or
treatises like "Paper in Fire".
PPersonnel: John Cougar
Mellencamp (vocals, guitar); Larry Crane (guitar, steel guitar, banjo,
mandolin, harmonica); Mike Wanchic (guitar, banjo, dobro, dulcimer);
Kenny Aronoff (hammered dulcimer, vibraphone, percussion); Toby Myers
(banjo, bass); Lisa Germano (fiddle); John Cascella (accordion,
melodica, keyboards); Pat Peterson (percussion, background vocals);
Crystal Talifero (background vocals).
Personnel: John Mellencamp (vocals); Larry Crane (guitar, mandolin);
Mike Wanchic (guitar, background vocals); Lisa Germano (violin); John
Cascella (pennywhistle, accordion, Farfisa, Hammond b-3 organ); Kenny
Aronoff (vibraphone, drums); Toby Myers (bass guitar, background
vocals); Crystal Talieferro, Pat Patterson (background vocals).
With 1985's SCARECROW, John Cougar Mellencamp established himself as
an uncompromising artist fully in control of his professional and
artistic pursuits. With THE LONESOME JUBILEE, however, he set out to
paint his masterpiece. Fully embracing the aesthetic found on the
classic hits "Pink Houses" and "Jack and Diane," the Indiana native
explores rock's rootsier elements, while forgoing the poetic
aspirations of Bruce Springsteen and Bob Dylan in favor of simpler,
straight-from-the-gut lyricism.
In the process, Mellencamp created the trademark working-class pop
hybrid that defined his brand of "heartland rock." Backed by folksy
fiddle and accordion, jangling power-pop guitars, and a pounding beat
equal parts Memphis soul and Rolling Stones, the singer repeatedly
explores the twin themes of broken dreams ("Paper in Fire," "The Real
Life") and simple pleasures ("Cherry Bomb," "Rooty Toot Toot").
Simultaneously an arena-ready Grand Statement and a Saturday night
hoe-down, THE LONESOME JUBILEE goes a long way towards fusing the
rebel spirit and brash roar of no-frills rock & roll with the
emotionally direct twang of the best country music.
by Anthony Decurtis, Rolling Stone
issue 510, October 8, 1987
"In dedicating his last
album, Scarecrow, to his grandfather, who had recently died, John
Mellencamp wrote, "There is nothing more sad or glorious than
generations changing hands." That idea suffused the songs on
Scarecrow, which was released in 1985, and it comes to the fore once
again on Mellencamp's complex, moving new album, The Lonesome Jubilee.
To state his theme this time, Mellencamp prints a passage from
Ecclesiastes on the record jacket, one of many Biblical references
that run through The Lonesome Jubilee. "Generations come and go but it
makes no difference," the passage goes. "Everything is unutterably
weary and tiresome. No matter how much we see, we are never satisfied.
... So I saw that there is nothing better for men than that they
should be happy in their work, for that is what they are here for, and
no one can bring them back to life to enjoy what will be in the
future, so let them enjoy it now."
The blending of fatalism and celebration, of the pleasures of life and
the specter of death, evident in those verses makes The Lonesome
Jubilee something like Mellencamp's Nebraska. The rhythms are more
exuberant and the arrangements are fuller on these ten songs than on
Spring-steen's grim masterpiece, but the chilling fear that some
unknown, inexorable force in human affairs makes contentment
impossible haunts both records. And just as Springsteen chose the
directness of folk music for Nebraska, Mellencamp has laced his songs
with Celtic and Appalachian folk instruments – hammer dulcimer,
mandolin, penny whistle, Dobro and accordion. These evocative musical
touches make the dilemmas of The Lonesome Jubilee seem that much more
ancient and unchanging.
For this reason, the songs on The Lonesome Jubilee that address
troubling social issues paradoxically provide the most reassuring
moments on the record. The harsh, angular "Down and Out in Paradise" –
with its desperate pleas to "dear Mr. President" from an unemployed
worker, a homeless woman and an unhappy child – at least assumes a
comprehensible system in which uncaring governmental figures can be
held accountable for the suffering chronicled in the song. The
prayerlike "We Are the People" – despite its foolishly misplaced
sympathy for the "fortunate ones" (because "it's lonely up there" and
"nobody's got it made") – revives Sixties-style political rhetoric and
warns manipulative leaders, "If you try to divide and conquer/We'll
rise up against you."
But other songs on The Lonesome Jubilee suggest that the sources of
people's unhappiness reside at least partly within themselves or, more
disturbingly, in the fabric of life itself. In the R&B-driven "Hard
Times for an Honest Man," Mellencamp blames bad economic conditions
for the anger that causes a frustrated worker to abuse his family and
for a woman's emotional isolation. But the song also appears to imply
that these people are responsible for internalizing and perpetuating
their victimization – particularly when they are seen in contrast with
the poverty-stricken couple of the previous song, "Empty Hands," who
refuse to replay society's exploitation of them in their supportive
marriage.
The Lonesome Jubilee is also filled with characters who betray their
futures and willfully trivialize their lives by chasing shabby dreams.
The man in "Paper in Fire," the album's hard-hitting opening track and
first single, wants "love with no involvement," and the guys in the
poignant "Check It Out" manage to build material security but cheat on
their lovers and stint on expressing their feelings toward their
friends. Again and again on the album, Mellencamp counts the painful
cost of these leaps of bad faith, stating the case most plainly in
"Paper in Fire": "There is a good life/Right across this green
field/And each generation/Stares at it from afar/But we keep no
check/On our appetites/So the green fields turn to brown/Like paper in
fire."
Interestingly, The Lonesome Jubilee seems to be an album concerned
with the very real, if sometimes vague, dissatisfactions of early
middle age – Mellencamp's own time of life. Aging offers appreciation
of the depths of life's mysteries but no greater understanding of
them, Mellencamp seems to be saying. "This is all that we've learned
about happiness," he says in "Check It Out," his disbelief softened by
his compassion. "This is all we've learned about living." In their
entrapment the characters in "The Real Life" believe there must be an
existence more genuine and rewarding than their own, but they are
completely unable to imagine what it might be. Despite its easygoing
groove, "Cherry Bomb," a nostalgic reflection on lost youth in the
manner of "Glory Days," speaks of a time in which "we were young and
we were improvin'" – in implied contrast with the present on both
scores.
The Lonesome Jubilee questions both the hotshot arrogance Mellencamp
epitomized early in his career and the populist idealism he discovered
around the time of Uh-Huh, in 1983. Despite his breakthrough to
seriousness, his macho swagger has proved difficult to shake, while
political convictions have failed to answer all his questions about
the world and its ways. But as this album amply demonstrates – in its
white-hot, slamming sound, courtesy of Don Gehman, as well as in the
meanings of its songs – seeing the limits of youthful bluster doesn't
necessarily mean losing one's gusto for life. And certainly testing
the point of one's beliefs need not predicate a descent into cynicism.
Nothin' Matters and What If It Did, John Cougar once spat in an album
title. Now John Cougar Mellencamp marvels at how much things matter
and wonders why and to what end. That's quite a distance traveled. "I
guess it don't matter how old you are/Or how old one lives to be,"
Mellencamp tentatively concludes in "The Real Life." "I guess it boils
down to what we did with our lives/And how we deal with our own
destinies." If this feeling but unsentimental album doesn't make for a
particularly joyous jubilee, the universality of its concerns ensures
that finally it isn't all that lonesome, either.
Paper In
Fire
