Billy Bragg and Wilco - Mermaid Avenue, Volume II

No disrespect intended, but it was pretty easy for Woody Guthrie to become America's most prolific songwriter. Sure, ol' Woody left an archive of more than 2000 songs behind when he joined the Union of the Angels, but he left each one of them incomplete. Those 2000 songs are mostly skeletal creations of word and image--without music--left to bleach in the sun for more than half a century.

When Billy Bragg and Wilco started playing around in those old bones, something remarkable happened. Fifty year-old words matched perfectly with a modern folk-rock sound. The salty Brit and the noise-loving Wilconians put some skin and muscle on Guthrie's old songs and sent them out to dance.

What they've done with the latest 15 songs in Guthrie's archive is no less remarkable. The mood on Mermaid Avenue, Volume II is certainly darker than the first collection (no "California Stars" here) but doesn't forget Woody's often childish sense of humor.

Bragg, as he did on the original Mermaid, seems most at home in Guthrie's lyrics. I've never heard the man sound like he's having so much fun as when he belts out "My Flying Saucer" to umpteen layers of guitar and percussion. Guthrie's words cry out to a long-lost love, but Bragg's music and delivery may actually make her want to come back.

"Stetson Kennedy" is another number Bragg seems born to sing. In the same vein as the workin' man's laments on The Internationale, this is where Bragg gets most in touch with Guthrie's ghost. They're both loud yellers.

Unfortunately, we get another completely unneeded Natalie Merchant cameo between those two gems. "I Was Born" is a fine example of the playful Guthrie verve displayed in "Hoodoo Voodoo," but Merchant's presence alone makes this song one to skip over.

Wilco, and Jeff Tweedy especially, fill the remaining 12 tracks on the album much the same as they did on the first. It's still a bit unusual to hear sixty-year-old words matched with an everything-but-the-kitchen-sink kind of sound, but oddly enough it works. Hell, at one point Ken Coomer is playing a gas heater. The sink is down the hall, gents.

The question "Who can guess the secret of the sea?" fits well within the layered harmonies and background cacophony of at least 10 instruments, "Joe DiMaggio Done it Again" is another reminder of the wonders Guthrie laid eyes on, and there's even a number proving no one can wield the word "fascist" better than a true-blue union man.

I've heard friends suggest someone like Springsteen should get a crack at Guthrie's archive. I have a better idea. Let's have Billy Bragg go it alone for one round. There's a reason why Guthrie's estate let Bragg play around in Willy's old bones. Until the two can spend some serious time alone, we'll never know why.