Just as the New York punk scene made room for both the arty antics of Talking Heads, the poetic epics of Patti Smith, and the glittery power-pop of Blondie, diversity ruled in the City of Angels, too. At least initially. "For a long time, L.A. was very musically and philosophically diverse," recalls Dave Alvin. "It wasn't until the early '80s, when Black Flag and the Circle Jerks came around--and, again, they were great bands--that the perception developed that that [hardcore sound], and nothing else, was punk rock."
Dave Alvin--who plays the Tractor this Saturday, January 22, and Sunday, January 23--left the Blasters in 1986 and has been churning out captivating solo albums ever since. His latest, the reflective Ashgrove (on Yep Roc), is unique in his catalog. Rather than concentrating exclusively on an acoustic sound, a la 1998's Blackjack David, or returning to his raucous roots-rock origins (1991's Blue Boulevard), Alvin's first studio album of originals in six years dovetails the two impulses. And it works, marvelously, primarily because Alvin entered the studio with a very keen idea of the album he wanted to make.
"That's one of the reasons why I don't make records every year. I won't say I'm obsessive-compulsive; I'm not a perfectionist," he explains. "But I do worry about things, and I can't make records with lavish, extravagant budgets."
The final results include "Sinful Daughter," a midtempo number laced with rich vocal harmonies and gospel fervor, and "Rio Grande," a poignant rumination on a lost love. (The latter previously appeared on coauthor Tom Russell's 2001 release Borderland.) The title track offers a look back on the legendary L.A. folk/blues club where the Alvin brothers studied greats like Lightnin' Hopkins and Big Joe Turner.
"The Ashgrove was more than just a bar," he remembers. "It was a political center, a community center, a gathering place for people from all walks of life. At a young age, it taught me there was depth to this music, a history, and socioeconomic reasons why it existed."
Ashgrove is arguably the finest solo album of Alvin's career. Alas, due to a snafu, it was ineligible for nomination in the upcoming Grammy Awards. No matter--Alvin already scored one of the coveted doorstops when his 2000 collection of American folk songs, Public Domain, was crowned Best Traditional Folk Album.
"Why I won, I don't know," he admits, chuckling. "But the way I viewed it was that it was for the Blasters, for everything I've done. It may not have been meant that way, but that's how I took it, as the Maybe-You-Don't-Suck-Real-Bad Award."
