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What:
My Morning Jacket with the Features

When:
Sunday, Jan. 18, 8 p.m.

Where:
Blue Cats

Cost:
$8 advance; $10 door

Non-Southern Rock

A bunch of hairy dudes from Kentucky find the California vibe

by Matthew Everett

Last year was a good year for rednecks. Critics' end-of-year lists were dotted with three bands—the Kings of Leon, the Drive-By Truckers and My Morning Jacket—that were all lumped together as part of a Southern rock renaissance, a look back at the glory days of '70s FM radio and guitar solos.

Jim James, guitarist and singer for My Morning Jacket, is having none of it.

"It's bullshit. It's stupid and lazy," he says. "I don't put any stock in it or think it's relevant."

And, mostly, he's right. My Morning Jacket's laid-back and expansive country-pop has its roots in California bands like the Byrds and Poco or even the Beach Boys circa Pet Sounds more than Lynyrd Skynyrd or the Allman Brothers. There are even traces of hippie jam band influences among the layered psychedelic guitars on their new album, It Still Moves.

"I don't even think we're Southern rock," James says. "We're a bunch of hairy dudes from Kentucky, which isn't even a Southern state."

Still, James revels in the attention the band's third full-length album, released this spring on ATO Records, has gotten. The critical acclaim has landed them on some fairly big tours—the Foo Fighters, Beth Orton, the Doves, Guided by Voices, and a spot at CMJ's Music Marathon in New York City this fall—and let them play in bigger venues than ever before. Considering My Morning Jacket's reputation as a live band—where the dizzy pop of their records mushrooms into loud, Dinosaur Jr.-like feedback-drenched guitar workouts—it's no surprise that so much critical attention has come their way.

"It's awesome," James says. "Better than I ever dreamed it would be."

James says the band's appearance on the Conan O'Brien show in the fall was the most dream-like experience of the year. "It was surreal," he explains. "One of the weirdest things I've ever done. It was insane. It was so cold in the TV studio. It wasn't even like we played. We went out, a flash bulb exploded, and it was over. It was like it didn't happen."

And the show's host?

"He was so tall," James says. "He was, like, eight feet tall. He was like Abraham Lincoln."

The band's headlining tour has taken a hit in recent months, though. Guitarist Johnny Quaid has been laid low by migraines, forcing them to cancel the opening Midwest leg of the tour. As of the middle of December, the rest of the band—James, bassist Two-Tone Tommy, drummer Danny Cash and keyboardist Patrick Hallahan—were biding time, waiting for Quaid's recovery and mulling the possibility of a replacement guitarist.

Quaid and James formed the band at the end of 1998. Their first album, The Tennessee Fire, was released the following summer on Darla Records. "It went fast," James says. "We had some demos that me and John were doing, and some of those are actually on the first record."

It was another two years before the follow-up, At Dawn, was released. James, who describes himself as a studio geek, writes all the band's music and lyrics. The other members add parts and work out the arrangements. James also produced the latest album. He says he'd love to release two or three albums a year, if touring and day jobs didn't get in the way.

James' fascination with the studio is evident on It Still Moves. "Dancefloors" has a shimmering neo-soul horn section; the rest of the album is full of keyboard fills, strings, and psychedelic effects.

But James doesn't dismiss the thrill of being on stage. Playing bigger clubs has allowed the band to expand its already epic sound. "We like to have a little more fuzz, crank it up a little," he says. "I like playing big venues. Every time we've played one we've had a good time. It really lets us spread out."

After the January leg of the tour, James will head out through February doing solo acoustic performances—a few My Morning Jacket songs, a few he's saved for his solo set—on a tour with Bright Eyes and M. Ward. Then, hopefully, it's back to the studio in Louisville.

"I've already got a bunch of stuff written," he says. "I hope we go back soon. I'm ready to go back now."
 

January 15, 2003 * Vol. 14, No. 3
© 2004 Metro Pulse