Country legend Ray Price once remarked in an interview that “Country music is good as it’s ever been—when they play country music.” Price, of course, never met Johnny Angel and Helldorado, but if he had, he would’ve included the Crescent City Western Swing aggregation in the conversation. Johnny Angel’s third release is a premium six-pack of quality originals (plus a hidden demo track) recorded in Louisiana and Tennessee. Mike Harvey of Nola Recording Studio built an infrastructure of fiddles, bass, and drums. The Time Jumpers’ guitarist Andy Reiss and Grand Ole Opry steel guitarist Tommy White added stunning solos to round out the full dance band sound in Nashville. The boot-scooting shuffle “Here and Now” was recorded in Denham Springs by steel guitarist Hal Higgins.
Yet, the songs are hardly the fodder Price would have crooned about in his day. They burrow deep inside the psyche and are largely the result of Angel battling his way through an unhealthy relationship. The whirlwind “Step Aside” and slower, fat-guitar-sounding “The Hardest Part” deals with liberation from oppression; the mysterious “Black Ball” portrays a protagonist in the throes of a demonic depression. One novel attribute of this arrangement is the intriguing two-second pause before stomping into the chorus, where Angel drops such chilling lines as “I’m trying hard not to act like I feel/ The game is hard, and I’m caught in its wheel.”
A couple of songs are downright beautiful in melody and sentiment. “(In Loving Memory of) Betty,” a dedication to Johnny Angel’s late mother, comforts with the idea that the spirit lives on long after its earthly departure.
“I Sing Tis’ of Thee” showcases White’s dreamy steel slides and describes a lethargic, recovering protagonist. Moreover, it is an exercise in creative songwriting. Most lines are alliterations of sorts, words starting with the same first letter, like “jazz-men jibbed and jived on the jukebox.” Similarly, Angel’s best effort yet will likely resonate in the minds of attentive listeners long after the liquor has left the Lowboy of jiving, jibing jazzmen.
