Little Texas Album: “Missing Years [Bonus Track]”

As a sextet, Little Texas had eighteen country hits throughout the '90s, their greatest success coming in the first half of the decade. The group's first run ended with 1997's "Little Texas" and was followed a seven-year hiatus. They reappeared in 2004 with Steven Troy replacing Tim Rushlow on vocals, and returned to touring. Troy left in 2006 and lead guitarist (and founding group member) Porter Howell stepped up to the microphone. Now operating as a quartet, with Howell joined by fellow founders Dwayne O'Brien on vocals and guitar, Duane Propes on vocals and bass, and Del Gray on drums, they've cut their first album in a decade.

Howell's an appealing lead vocalist, singing with a huskiness and geniality that brings to mind Jack Ingram. He's a winning center point for harmonies that are not as beholden to the Eagles as the band's earlier work. The instrumental sound is also a touch more modern, dropping the processed guitars of the '90s in favor of a twangier contemporary country sound. Generous amounts of steel and mandolin give this a rootsier feel than the band's previous albums.

Even with the changes, this still sounds like a Little Texas album. Howell and O'Brien continue to write, and outside songwriters chip in material that suits the band well. The country-blues stompers "Gotta Get Me Down Home" and "Party Life," though a bit late to redneck goodtime party scene, are great vehicles for Howell's soulful voice. The name-checking swing of "Texas 101" could easily serve as the basis for a popular CMT video or fan sing-a-along written concert favorite.

The partying stops for several fine ballads, including the retrospective "So Long" with its study of spouses grown apart, friends passed away, and relationships scattered to the winds of time. The sentiment's flipside, "When He's Gone," is too morose for a bride's first dance with her father, but it's a sweet ode to dads everywhere. The title track's return-to-home travelogue is reminiscent of Tim McGraw's "Everywhere," but the happier ending provides less of an emotional wallop.

After a decade away from the studio, Little Texas manages the neat trick of still sounding like Little Texas without sounding trapped in the past. They've got the musical goods for another run at the charts, but only the vagaries of country radio can make that final determination. Either way, the band's fans should like this updated sound, and contemporary country listeners will find these '90s superstars appealing. 3-3/4 stars, if allowed fractional ratings. [©2007 hyperbolium dot com]

Prime Cuts: Missing Years, Your Blues, Knees

What happens to a group's identity when its lead singer changes not once but three times over the course of the last decade or so? Despite chartering a formidable identity in country music with hits such as "First Time for Everything," "My Love," and "God Bless Texas," bruised egos and group politics caused its first lead singer Brady Seals to abandon ship in favor of a solo career. After the departure of second front man Tim Rushlow, the group subsequently disbanded. However, when the group reunited in 2004 with Steven Troy as their new lead, Rushlow and Seals held legal injunctions to prevent their previous cohorts from using their patented identity as "Little Texas." Such legal faux pas was enough reason for Troy to throw in the towel without any new material surfacing. In exasperation, guitarist Porter Howell stepped up to the microphone, and "Missing Years" is the result of such onerous struggle. So how does this pertinacious effort fare? There are continuities and discontinuous vis-à-vis their copious back catalog. While these Lone Star State loving-guys had previously depended on big love ballads, the ballads here are more organic and subdued. Nevertheless, for those who have taken a fancy to their rowdy anthemic Bon Jovi-esque rock, there is much in galore.

On the ballad-front, the title track, though somehow lyrically verbose, is a brooding bluesy piece that has a mesmerizing ability to draw one into its narrative plot. The lads' fraternity-like harmonies adds poignancy to this modern day spin of the story of the prodigal son who left home after graduation only to find that home was what he missed the most after his squandered years. Though utilizing some maudlin and poorly thought out metaphors such as "let my lap be your pillow, let my love be your bed," the Brett James/Angelo-composed "Your Blues" is still quite an affecting love song that calls to mind their former number 1 hit "My Love." Save for the title track, the better tracks are the ones not penned by the boys, "On My Knees" coming from the pens of Don Pfrimmer and Marc Beeson, despite some quirky chord changes, is a desperate prayer for divine intervention at the threshold of heartbreak.

Almost endemic to the group's ethos, there is always that obligatory valentine to the Lone Star state to which they have derived their name. "Texas 101" is this disc's entry. In an ingenuous effort to eschew clichés, "Texas 101" tries to stay current in its laudatory praise of the State's contributions with passing references of the George Bush and Dixie Chicks debacle and Willie's weed smoking bus incident. However, the couple of living large and wild rousers, namely "Party Life" and "Gotta Get Me Down Home" are as frivolous as the titles suggest. Perhaps, nothing is more appalling than the lead single "Your Woman," an ill-constructed tuneless uptempo with an irritating chorus, about a man gloating that he now has the heart of his friend's former lover. Dump "Rebel" into the bin of anonymous-sounding mindless redneck anthems that currently flood country music.

Though it is good to see these quartet coming together again jamming through some familiar sounding rockers, it is also pleasing to see growth with the choice of more subtle and hence more affecting ballads. Nevertheless, as a whole, the album does not have the verve and the drive of their previous CDs. Mostly fault at the abundance of self-composed materials that tend to favor clichés over originality glazed over mediocre melodic lines. Sad to say the missing years from recording have not mounded these lads for the better.

I live in Nashville, and 'tho I'm not a fan of LT, an article in our paper, The Tennessean, caught my eye last week: a new interview with LT in which two quotes stuck out.

The first was by the drummer, Del Gray. He trashed a former band member (Brady Seals), saying, "Brady took his toys and went home, thank god".

I thought that was uncool - it sounded juvenile.

The second quote that stood out was by the bass player, Duane Propes, who said "Our past albums were a little 'fluffy'. This album AIN'T fluffy."

Well, I like southern rock, so I thought maybe they had changed course, so I picked it up this week (at a local used cd shop, The Great Escape), and I know why I got it so cheap: this "new" LT is nothing more than a bar band trying to recapture past glory.

First off, their longtime guitarist, Porter Howell, has taken over lead vocals. Only one problem: this guy CANNOT sing. He's not off-key, but his voice is simply generic..and he tends to start screeching when he tries for the upper registers. Not only that, but the fake country accent (which comes and goes depending upon the song) is irritating to no end.

Second, the songs simply suck; there's no other way to put it. The music is forgettable (except for the song "Your Blues", which has a very nice melody), and the lyrics are beyond banal. Example: "Kill someone, you're gonna fry, on Willie's bus you're gettin' high", from "Texas 101".

Sorry guys, it's been done before, and much better.

Third, no matter what the other reviews say (remember: when most fans write reviews, they can't be very objective) the band obviously lost something when Tim and Brady left. As mentioned earlier, I was never a fan, but that doesn't mean I didn't respect what they did. There were a few songs that were okay, but the two members that left were obviously the meat of the sound - Tim vocally and Brady songwriting-wise.

The 90's are over, guys - and the glory days are long past.

I can applaud your still getting out, touring and still trying to make music, but saying this stuff AIN'T fluff?

Riii-iiight...