In the Reins (with Calexico)
Overcoat, 2005
rating: 3.5/5
reviewer: baron


The idea of a collaboration between Sam Beam and the members of Calexico has been around for quite some time now; if their schedules had matched up right, Calexico might have even served as the backup band on Beam's 2002 debut, The Creek Drank the Cradle. But no, that album remained a collection of Beam's home recordings. Instead, apparently, Beam decided to send a set of unreleased demos to Calexico with the idea that the band might rework them, and the project grew from there to become a true collaborative effort, with the two folk powers working together in tandem. So finally, after three years, we have a seven song EP to show for all the talk. The release will be followed by a joint Iron & Wine/Calexico tour, and who knows what might follow from there?

Technically, In the Reins is all previously unreleased material, so it ought to be all new to fans of both bands. But this day in age where no musical recording can escape the file-sharing masses, almost all the products of Beam's early recordings are available to unscrupulous traders. No, this material is hardly new; in fact, almost all the tracks on In the Reins have made their rounds online, and those that haven't are available as solo live recordings (which are basically what the demos are anyway) or b-sides. So a large portion of this album's audience will have heard all of this material before. As a result, it's almost impossible to expect people to approach this EP without the original songs as a reference point, and In the Reins begins to look more like a remix album than a proper release.

Of course, the comparison doesn't just work between each song. The original material that became In the Reins was recorded alongside The Creek Drank the Cradle and thereby sounds almost identical to the tracks on Beam's debut. We all know that Our Endless Numbered Days marked a progression in Beam's style from decidedly lo-fi to crisp and clean studio recordings; and since the point of the collaboration was to add more lush instrumentation to Beam's tracks, In the Reins can act as a sort of commentary on that progression. For fans of Iron & Wine, this is an oft-debated question: is his early stuff better, with its more rustic and thereby more genuine feel; or is his latter stuff an improvement, with its spotless production? And with a direct comparison between songs now available, we might be able to strike an authoritative conclusion.

But even with In the Reins, it's still an incredibly hard question to answer. For one, Iron & Wine backed by Calexico sounds markedly different from recent solo Iron & Wine; the later uses glossed-up acoustic guitars, banjos, and percussion, while the former's music has more subtle but varied touches -- more pedal steels, extra guitar parts, horns, backup vocals -- that for the most part maintain the rustic country quality of Beam's earlier work. In the Reins sounds more like true folk music than Beam's recent work. But don't be mistaken; this record still removes the rough feeling of the demo versions, striking something of a middle ground between early and late Iron & Wine.

And secondly, while most Iron & Wine songs share a similar structure and compositional feel, In the Reins largely separates itself from that mold. The best parts of Iron & Wine songs are almost always the bridges between chorus and verse or the outros, the spaces void of singing where Beam adds subtle riffs on top of the normal progression; maybe a banjo coming in, playing harmonies, or a second acoustic guitar overdubbed with a slide guitar part. It's these sections of the songs that are the most endearing, more-so than his melodic choruses or lyrical verses. They are the sharpest hooks, and, unfortunately, Calexico pretty much cuts out the effect of these bridges on In the Reins, replacing them with dull saxophones, harmonicas, trumpets, and ill-defined electric guitar parts. The instrumentation kills "Burn that Broken Bed" (previously named "Overhead"), which seemed to exist solely for its intense acoustic guitars-and-banjo outro. And while the pedal steel during the bridges of "Sixteen, Maybe Less" is still there, it's been changed; it exists mostly as background noise in In the Reins, while in the demo it's clearly-defined and carries the entire section. In this way, much of the charm of the early demos is stripped clean out.

But it's a trade-off; the verses and choruses in In the Reins are much more rich and nuanced than in the demos, helping to offset the newly mediocre midsections. The new "He Lays in the Reins" sports much richer (but quieter) backing music, allowing Beam's excellent vocals to float to the top of the mix. "Dead Man's Will" (which lacked any of the aforementioned bridges) is also vastly improved, with better vocals, a more cleanly played guitar part, and rich production. And "Red Dust" is one hell of an exception to the rule; what used to be a mediocre track is turned into a sort of folk jam, with organs and battling electric guitars, in between two short vocal sections. So while the high points are less high throughout In the Reins, the rest of it sounds much better.

What it really boils down to is that Beam's demos and the tracks on In the Reins are much different beasts. The demo tracks are all about setting up interludes and breaks, while the actual brunt of the songs seem like afterthoughts. But Calexico's backing is much more holistic, focusing on fleshing out Beam's compositions as much as possible, heightening the quality the verses and choruses. Yes, the new versions have forsaken the hooks that made the originals endearing. But the songs on In the Reins are much more well-rounded, which should make them hold up even better in the long run. And if Beam can learn to combine the best elements of both recording styles, we should be seeing some of his strongest work in the near future.

1. He Lays in the Reins
2. Prison on Route 41
3. History of Lovers
4. Red Dust
5. 16, Maybe Less
6. Burn That Broken Bed
7. Dead Man's Will

Woman King EP
Sub Pop, 2005
rating: 5/5
reviewer: jesus the mexican boy


I stood there underneath the old welcome sign, avoiding the shard of decayed wood that wedged threateningly from between the "M" and the "E." As always, I watched -- never asked any questions -- happy to see him happy, pensive, kneeling before me with repentance on his face and quiet rebellion in his eyes. I was once his muse; fascinated with my godless purity, he knows that my contradictory nature is transparently his.

There is another one now, more than one if you want to know. A jezebel from Sodom, South Georgia, wicked and cunning, a bloodred velvet kiss haunting and lingering, hungry temptress who knew her place long before anyone else could. A... woman king. He hates her reason for being: to morally inform, but loves her tragedy because it's so singable. There's also the other one, my sister, weird and adoring. She sees him the way he wants to be seen, the way I see him. It is with her that he takes off his shoes, unafraid to love or cherish the way her body moves against his, puzzlelike.

We abandoned the tourist spot in favor of the country dine-in framed by purple Bougainvillea blooms. The greener grass waitress was the one he'd been telling me about -- I knew it by looking at him looking at her -- he wouldn't leave my sister for her but he'd fantasize about it. Sitting on a barstool was another regular, a new friend he met who used to be a circus star. The old man with a southern black man's accent was a trapeze artist when we were born; he got famous when he trademarked his own act. He's gotten to know my friend well by being in the diner with him, smoking his cigarettes and buying him 25 cent Pepsi refills to make up for it. He turned around to greet us: "Hey, man, you brought a friend!" His lips drew back to reveal a toothy smile with a severe overbite.

"This is Jesus; Jesus, Carl."

"Hi Ca-"

"Boy's got grit, don't he? Don't he?" he interrupted me, laughing. "Nowadays he does, anyway. Ah reckon Ah didn't know 'im before."

"He did before, it's just never been so... pronounced. The appearance didn't much go with the words or the bite like they do now." I looked over at my friend's new haircut and the American Spirits peeking out of his shirt pocket.

"Grit, boy's got grit! Say, you gotta extra Spirit?" As my friend proffered his pack, Carl grabbed one and walked off toward the restroom.

"I can tell he does that alot," I said slowly.

"It's not so bad. I guess we were all born to fuck each other one way or another. Right?" He poked my sister in the ribs and kissed her nose, his eyes following the waitress as she passed by.

Later that afternoon he hugged my neck warmly and walked me up to the bus door. As he and my sister disappeared in the distance I watched them fade away, thinking about him and those old calliope songs. He's changed quite a bit since our broken-bottle days; just as profound but growing bolder and more complex by the minute. I guess Carl would call that "grit."

1. Woman King
2. Jezebel
3. Gray Stables
4. Freedom Hangs Like Heaven
5. My Lady's House
6. Evening On The Ground (Lilith's Song)

Our Endless Numbered Days
Sub Pop, 2004
rating: 3.5/5
reviewer: leah


In 2002 Iron and Wine's Sam Beam reminded music fans that a man with a guitar, a four-track, and a soft voice can shake up a spirit. The Creek Drank the Cradle was, and still is, a quiet favorite among indie rock fans because of its hushed, intimate vocals layered over gentle guitar. Beam's lyrics were literate, drenched in both religious and social myth of the American South. From all perspectives, the album's grace came from understated genius.

Our Endless Numbered Days builds on the understatement with the addition of a backing band and intrusive production. Many fans were alarmed by talk of a backing band for Iron and Wine, but those fears aren't realized here. The new instrumentation changes the effective image of a cerebrating bard with his six string, but Beam's soft singing is matched by the easygoing pace of the percussion and his sister's lulling backing vocals. It's a very quiet backing band, and Beam's soft tenor still remains the delicate centerpiece.

The piano triplets leading out of "Passing Afternoon" represent the loudest part of the record. No, it is not the instrumentation but Brian Deck's polished production that almost ruins Our Endless Numbered Days. The Creek Drank the Cradle was authenticated by the naked rawness of its four-track recording; it gave us Beam as he was, with no built-in hits or targeted audience. Here, though, Beam's voice is streamlined and a little too perfect for fans of his prior music who felt, with good reason, like Beam was serenading them from their living rooms. "Naked As We Came" sounds perfect for radio, conveniently ending at 2 minutes, 32 seconds.

Fortunately, Beam is still adding definitions of love, trying to make up his mind about whether God is really good, and wallowing in natural imagery in his lyrics. The overall tone changes from self-assured to hopeful, then pensive. Death is supplanted by birth in "Sodom, South Georgia," indicating how our days are endless yet numbered, and in "Naked As We Came" a lover says, "if I leave before you, darling/ don't you waste me in the ground." The idea that ashes spread around the yard beget new life helps create a bittersweet tone to this record that is common to Beam's other work.

"Less is more" is an annoying cliché, but I find myself wishing that Iron and Wine and Brian Deck had put a little more faith in it. Beam would look a little funny dressed in leather pants, and he would seem out of context if his concerts featured pyrotechnics and lip-synching for a studio-perfect performance, so why dress his record like its appeal is in slick, non-offensive production? Beam's distinctive songs are most endearing when their rustic quality is matched by their production.

1. On Your Wings
2. Naked As We Came
3. Cinder and Smoke
4. Sunset Soon Forgotten
5. Teeth in the Grass
6. Love and Some Verses
7. Radio War
8. Each Coming Night
9. Free Until They Cut Me Down
10. Fever Dream
11. Sodom, South Georgia
12. Passing Afternoon

The Sea & the Rhythm EP
Sub Pop, 2003
rating: 4.5/5
reviewer: leah


Iron and Wine becomes, with this EP, a euphoric drug for me. If there’s anything negative about this record, it’s that it is not quite enough of a fix. I’m interested by the first track, falling in love by the second, and begging for more after the fifth. That’s quite an effect for an EP that spans only 21 minutes and 19 seconds in all. 

Musically, it is very similar to Creek Drank the Cradle, Iron and Wine’s 2002 release. Don’t forget, though, how damn good it was. Sam Beam, Iron and Wine’s one member, has little to hide behind—guitar and Simon and Garfunkel-like harmonies are the premise, and strong, touching lyrics abound unfailingly. Beam is hardly less talented than William Faulkner at displaying an undying southern legacy, although it does not come through on The Sea & the Rhythm quite as strongly as on Creek Drank the Cradle. 

"Jesus the Mexican Boy" is a narrative about, you guessed it, an updated, suggestively secular Jesus character that "never wanted nothing" and travels to forgive his betraying friend: "Naked the Judas in me/ Fell by the tracks but he lifted me high/Kissing my head like a brother and never/Asking why."  With a soft, sweeping guitar accompaniment, "Jesus" is an instant favorite. 

The title track, "The Sea and the Rhythm", is a song for a lover with lyrics that are definitely.... different: "Tonight, we’re the sea and the salty breeze/The milk from your breast is on my lips/And lovelier words from your mouth to me/When salty my sweat and fingertips."  Despite the weirdness of that mother/lover line (possibly a bit of an Oedipal complex?), the song is a terrifically romantic piece with a gentle, memorable melody.

Hopefully, Beam will soon be agreeable to retiring from his day job of teaching cinematography at the Miami International University of Art and Design to put out more music. God knows he’s already a classic in the making.

1. Beneath the Balcony
2. The Sea and the Rhythm
3. The Night Descending
4. Jesus the Mexican Boy
5. Someday the Waves