Jeff Rowe – Barstool Conversations

  • Cole Faulkner posted
  • Reviews

Jeff Rowe

Barstool Conversations - Anchorless Records

If Smoke Or Fire ever needed a new lead vocalist, Jeff Rowe would be their man.  The Gloucester, Massachusetts songwriter might be in the midst of developing his own folk-tinged solo career, but even in his Anchorless Records debut, Barstool Conversations, he showcases a good set of pipes for the job.  That being said, I’m not entirely sold on the combination in an acoustic setting.  There’s just something off about those Joe McMahon-styled vocals all by themselves (speaking of which, McMahon actually makes a couple guest appearances).  Rowe’s lowest range feels stomachable enough, but when reaching that high pitch, piercing wail, I just can’t shake the accompanying ice-pick-to-the-temple sensation.

My ears find most issue with Rowe’s most minimalist songs – the ones that place the sole focus on his vocal strain.  The biggest offenders are those like “Thinnest Strands” or “Dead Authors.”  In these tracksRowe insists on dragging out words and lines as centerpieces in ways that just beg reaching for the skip button.  There isn’t much more to say about these moments than that they’re simply unpleasant.

But despite my negativity, Barstool Conversations is still far from a complete throw away.  When Rowe controls his howl and harnesses his passion, there is certainly room for enjoyment.  In fact, I’d venture to say that for the most part the first four songs make for a deceivingly strong start.  “Passenger” opens the album on a simple man-with-his-guitar note, with Rowe sounding completely at ease and at home strumming his six string.  When Rowe is on, he’s really on, with even his lyrics blossoming into a strongly contrasted, poetic imagery (“suburban sprawl and marigold/condominiums and churches/you pass the words that say you should be home now/you’re a passenger along for the ride/I’m an author, unable to write”).  The follow-up, “Kate,” introduces Rowe’s full band potential, leaning towards a joyous demeanor and admirable output.  The harmonica on “Chasing Ghosts” might be a stock item for acoustic projects today, but again, when supplementing Rowe’s strong moments, clichés can be forgiven.

Unfortunately though, additional lyrical issues bog down some stronger moments.  While a good many passages showcase some thoughtful songwriting, there are also those that sound like your ill-informed cousin filterlessly reciting self-written poetry at a family reunion.  For example, returning to “Dead Authors,” Rowe makes the misguided decision to repeat what he mistakenly interprets as a “profound” thought: “I’ve got friends that are more than blood.”  By itself the line isn’t particularly awkward, but when taking the spotlight, gives the impression that Rowe figures he’s the only person to ever realize the strength of camaraderie.  Similarly, in “Glenville” he makes a modest analogy when speaking of life’s fulfillment (“if the shoe fits, what else should we wear?”), but touts it a little too proudly, coming across cheesy rather than profound.  Most of Rowe’s lines are pretty solid, but I can’t help hake the feeling that he’s trying a little too hard to be Tim Barry.

Even taken as a mixed bag, Barstool Conversations lacks any truly compelling features, making its thirty-five minute run time feel boated and repetitive.  So in the end, Jeff Rowe is a competent enough songwriter, but needs some serious quality control if he’s going to make his mark.  It’s strange, usually I lap up this kind of punk front-man gone solo folk artist; making this one of the few times I’ve really walked away without feeling much of an impact.  Rowe has talent; he simply needs to come to terms with what works, what doesn’t, and regroup from there.