It's one of those times when the last song, and probably the worst song subjectively speaking, is the key to understanding the album as a whole. "Murder Ballad." What I take away from this song and apply to Blackgrass is twofold. First, that Swamp Dogg is playing a character. Second, that Swamp Dogg is doing this for fun, and doesn't necessarily desire to be famous.
To the former—Swamp Dogg is the self-chosen nickname of a musician, but at this point, over 50 years after the name "Swamp Dogg" was born, it's pretty much this guy's real name. It's a silly name. It was silly in 1970 and it remains silly today. It's visually striking, and it rolls off the tongue nicely. Swamp Dogg. Everything you need to know about this dude's music is in the name. And the name can also act as a sort of shield against taking this shit too seriously. Sure, feel free to academically pontificate on anything you want, but are you really gonna intellectualize country bumpkin music from a dude named Swamp Dogg? Something about the idea feels wrong. We are forced, right from the start, to readjust our expectations—this is just for fun, yo.
And so into the latter—obviously Swamp Dogg hasn't murdered anyone (though maybe it would be in character to sing a ostensibly fictional song that ends of being nonfiction after all, but let's not waste time with baseless what-ifs). This is creative writing. It's fun, not because murder is fun, but because writing interesting character studies is fun. It can be fun because maybe the details are fictional but some of the emotions presented are completely true.
"Momma, I made it... I'm finally famous." Something poignant about that line that I'm struggling to put my finger on, but I think it's this. The narrator in this story is saying that he's going to be famous for being a serial killer, which is obviously not the ideal way to get famous, and by writing a song about this being a pathway to fame, Swamp Dogg himself is saying that it's okay that he, Swamp Dogg, isn't famous. That he's made peace with it. Something like that.
And all these words spilled about the worst song! It feels like there is just so damn much to talk about on this album, and I fear I won't have the space or energy to talk about it all. Is it that this is one of those albums that is very interesting and also just pretty good? Yes, but that has more to do with my not-unlimited tolerance for country music than anything that Swamp Dogg is doing. Dude mixes it up throughout the tracklist more than enough to keep my attention. So many little moments to keep you on your toes.
"Bluegrass music" is probably a misnomer for this album's genre. That's a very specific genre with a very specific sound, derived from old-timey music and filtered through Bill Monroe and the Blue Grass Boys. Adjacent but not necessarily the same as the country music that fills out most of this disc. I'm not stating an opinion here, just shooting the shit about genre, that's all. While Swamp Dogg is arguably incorrect that bluegrass "came from Black people," since Bill Monroe is white, I see what he's trying to get at. Bill Monroe based his music on that which came before it, and the music before it did indeed start with African Americans playing it before they even thought to talk bullshit about "genre." But my main point here is that most of the music here on Blackgrass isn't even bluegrass anyway.
But the opening track is for sure. What exactly is the "mess" under that dress? Is "mess" vernacular for vagina? But like in an ironic positive light? The whole bit about the funeral parlor banning her because she "raises the dead" is classic, regardless. And then the other true bluegrass song is "Rise Up." Well, kind of. Swamp Dogg undercuts the bluegrass even here with the inclusion of a blistering electric guitar solo that is straight out of a classic rock song.
Most of the rest of Blackgrass is either country or folk or a combo of the two. "Ugly Man's Wife" is a fun one that blends the two. Pam rightly pointed out that this was a gender flip of "If You Wanna Be Happy" by Jimmy Soul. I like Swamp Dogg's version better. Feels less misogynistic. Not that that was necessarily Swamp Dogg's intentions. Dude's not really trying to make a statement with many of these songs. It's more just a fun little ditty. As an ugly man, I'd like to think that it's at least partially true.
"To the Other Woman" was a good one. Now this one is—in my own twisted mind, at least—a flip of Joe's "Stutter." Margo Price sings about finding peace with her situation, despite people trying to tell her otherwise. R&B Joe is consumed with jealousy over the fact that his woman (what he would consider his "property") is not following social norms. Price's character is acknowledging that what she's doing is unconventional, but is finding that she's a lot happier being a #2 in public than having to hide her shame like other side-pieces. Again, this isn't, like, the most complex song of all time, but a surprising number of these simple country folk tunes are giving me a lot to process this week. I like it.
"Momma, I made it... I'm finally famous." Something poignant about that line that I'm struggling to put my finger on, but I think it's this. The narrator in this story is saying that he's going to be famous for being a serial killer, which is obviously not the ideal way to get famous, and by writing a song about this being a pathway to fame, Swamp Dogg himself is saying that it's okay that he, Swamp Dogg, isn't famous. That he's made peace with it. Something like that.
And all these words spilled about the worst song! It feels like there is just so damn much to talk about on this album, and I fear I won't have the space or energy to talk about it all. Is it that this is one of those albums that is very interesting and also just pretty good? Yes, but that has more to do with my not-unlimited tolerance for country music than anything that Swamp Dogg is doing. Dude mixes it up throughout the tracklist more than enough to keep my attention. So many little moments to keep you on your toes.
"Bluegrass music" is probably a misnomer for this album's genre. That's a very specific genre with a very specific sound, derived from old-timey music and filtered through Bill Monroe and the Blue Grass Boys. Adjacent but not necessarily the same as the country music that fills out most of this disc. I'm not stating an opinion here, just shooting the shit about genre, that's all. While Swamp Dogg is arguably incorrect that bluegrass "came from Black people," since Bill Monroe is white, I see what he's trying to get at. Bill Monroe based his music on that which came before it, and the music before it did indeed start with African Americans playing it before they even thought to talk bullshit about "genre." But my main point here is that most of the music here on Blackgrass isn't even bluegrass anyway.
But the opening track is for sure. What exactly is the "mess" under that dress? Is "mess" vernacular for vagina? But like in an ironic positive light? The whole bit about the funeral parlor banning her because she "raises the dead" is classic, regardless. And then the other true bluegrass song is "Rise Up." Well, kind of. Swamp Dogg undercuts the bluegrass even here with the inclusion of a blistering electric guitar solo that is straight out of a classic rock song.
Most of the rest of Blackgrass is either country or folk or a combo of the two. "Ugly Man's Wife" is a fun one that blends the two. Pam rightly pointed out that this was a gender flip of "If You Wanna Be Happy" by Jimmy Soul. I like Swamp Dogg's version better. Feels less misogynistic. Not that that was necessarily Swamp Dogg's intentions. Dude's not really trying to make a statement with many of these songs. It's more just a fun little ditty. As an ugly man, I'd like to think that it's at least partially true.
"To the Other Woman" was a good one. Now this one is—in my own twisted mind, at least—a flip of Joe's "Stutter." Margo Price sings about finding peace with her situation, despite people trying to tell her otherwise. R&B Joe is consumed with jealousy over the fact that his woman (what he would consider his "property") is not following social norms. Price's character is acknowledging that what she's doing is unconventional, but is finding that she's a lot happier being a #2 in public than having to hide her shame like other side-pieces. Again, this isn't, like, the most complex song of all time, but a surprising number of these simple country folk tunes are giving me a lot to process this week. I like it.
Some songs are just simply catchy. The Jenny Lewis feature is the one that's been in my head all week. I don't know why, but Swamp Dogg providing backing vocals in which he counts from one to seven is the part that scratches the itch for me. I also thought "Your Best Friend" was one that made an impact on me in this way, despite not really having any particular section that could be considered a hook. I dunno, it's just nice to listen to some backwoods guitar/fiddle bullshit every once in a while, ya know?
But to say that all of this is just Swamp Dogg fucking around would be disingenuous as well. There's real purpose here. It's just that the purpose is stabilized by the idea of Swamp Dogg having fun with it. I'm talking about the conscious choice of writing and recording a country music album at this particular point in time, 2024, when every dumb pop star seems intent on recording country music. It's important to compare Swamp Dogg's album here with recent ones from Beyoncé and Post Malone and etc. The fact that Swamp Dogg is 82 years old and has worked a long time doing a lot of different shit and all of it seems to be in good fun and clearly he's just doing this for something fun to do, all of that combines to prove that this isn't some cynical ploy to "build up the brand" by widening the scope and appeal of said brand. I'm not saying that Bey's newest album is solely a cynical ploy, but it is at least partially that. Swamp Dogg carries no baggage. It's just some old dude playing some good music.
And I need to be specific here, because Beyoncé's deal is closer to Swamp Dogg's than Post Malone's or like Lana Del Rey's or whatever. This is because Blackgrass is a conscious effort to return country music to its "true roots," i.e. toward the tradition of classic Black music. The idea is one that is absolutely worthy of pursuit, no matter which Black artist is pursuing it or how popular that artist is or how skeptical I remain of A-list pop starts like Beyoncé. If I had to stumble toward an explanation on how Swamp Dogg does it better, I guess I'd say... maybe that Swamp Dogg feels like he is playing within a tradition, while Beyoncé is wrenching that tradition toward her own ambitions, and the former feels kind while the latter feels slightly self-centered.
I do think it's helpful that Swamp Dogg is having a lot of fun with it. There's a good mix. Two-thirds of the songs are tongue-in-cheek, while the other third are serious and straight-faced. Of the latter, I'm thinking primarily about "Songs to Sing," which is folk music in a Pete Seeger sort of way, but clearly filtered through the modern Black perspective. "I'll sing about a people / that want to be free / I'll sing about a generation / that'll help you to be." He's singing about the 21st-century struggles for racial equity. He specifically mentions unjust war and mistrust of Americans and riots on TV. It's not difficult to connect the dots here. This is a song based in the real world. It's probably worth mentioning that this is the song on this album that sounds most like music that he was making in the early '70s, and it's also worth noting that the same subject matter could've applied in a song from 1970, so long has this particular war been fought.
So because this beautiful, politically-conscious and yet personal song is here on this album surrounding by silly Rilo Kiley-adjacent tunes and bluegrass romps about hot women and poems about wanton murder and capital punishment really serves to strengthen the message of the important songs. It's not overdone. It's embedded in a quiet, poignant song that feels as real as the murder confessions seem fictional. And it's embedded in a song who's most explicit point is that the artist is stating that he is consciously choosing this song as the song he'd share with the whole world if he could. It's humbling, that he only considers this one song to be a song that should be shared. From where I'm standing, I'd share the whole goddamn album with the world.
Swamp Dogg fucking killed it on this album. But not literally.
But to say that all of this is just Swamp Dogg fucking around would be disingenuous as well. There's real purpose here. It's just that the purpose is stabilized by the idea of Swamp Dogg having fun with it. I'm talking about the conscious choice of writing and recording a country music album at this particular point in time, 2024, when every dumb pop star seems intent on recording country music. It's important to compare Swamp Dogg's album here with recent ones from Beyoncé and Post Malone and etc. The fact that Swamp Dogg is 82 years old and has worked a long time doing a lot of different shit and all of it seems to be in good fun and clearly he's just doing this for something fun to do, all of that combines to prove that this isn't some cynical ploy to "build up the brand" by widening the scope and appeal of said brand. I'm not saying that Bey's newest album is solely a cynical ploy, but it is at least partially that. Swamp Dogg carries no baggage. It's just some old dude playing some good music.
And I need to be specific here, because Beyoncé's deal is closer to Swamp Dogg's than Post Malone's or like Lana Del Rey's or whatever. This is because Blackgrass is a conscious effort to return country music to its "true roots," i.e. toward the tradition of classic Black music. The idea is one that is absolutely worthy of pursuit, no matter which Black artist is pursuing it or how popular that artist is or how skeptical I remain of A-list pop starts like Beyoncé. If I had to stumble toward an explanation on how Swamp Dogg does it better, I guess I'd say... maybe that Swamp Dogg feels like he is playing within a tradition, while Beyoncé is wrenching that tradition toward her own ambitions, and the former feels kind while the latter feels slightly self-centered.
I do think it's helpful that Swamp Dogg is having a lot of fun with it. There's a good mix. Two-thirds of the songs are tongue-in-cheek, while the other third are serious and straight-faced. Of the latter, I'm thinking primarily about "Songs to Sing," which is folk music in a Pete Seeger sort of way, but clearly filtered through the modern Black perspective. "I'll sing about a people / that want to be free / I'll sing about a generation / that'll help you to be." He's singing about the 21st-century struggles for racial equity. He specifically mentions unjust war and mistrust of Americans and riots on TV. It's not difficult to connect the dots here. This is a song based in the real world. It's probably worth mentioning that this is the song on this album that sounds most like music that he was making in the early '70s, and it's also worth noting that the same subject matter could've applied in a song from 1970, so long has this particular war been fought.
So because this beautiful, politically-conscious and yet personal song is here on this album surrounding by silly Rilo Kiley-adjacent tunes and bluegrass romps about hot women and poems about wanton murder and capital punishment really serves to strengthen the message of the important songs. It's not overdone. It's embedded in a quiet, poignant song that feels as real as the murder confessions seem fictional. And it's embedded in a song who's most explicit point is that the artist is stating that he is consciously choosing this song as the song he'd share with the whole world if he could. It's humbling, that he only considers this one song to be a song that should be shared. From where I'm standing, I'd share the whole goddamn album with the world.
Swamp Dogg fucking killed it on this album. But not literally.
GRADE: 4 pukes out of 5
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