Imagine a country church, rather nondescript but the scene of much God-fearing, with pews made out of Ryman Auditorium floorboards and weathered, lonesome pine. Now imagine that those pews could sing. They might sound a bit like Charlie Louvin on his new self-titled release.
Louvin will be 80 in July, so it’s no surprise that his voice lacks a good bit of the low-tenor power it once carried when tangled with his brother Ira’s high tenor. But there are still intangibles at work, things like authenticity and miles and history. You can feel like you’re in the presence of something ancient and knowing, but it’s also the sound of grace at your grandfather’s dinner table.
Then why have guest stars crowding the table? I don’t have a problem with guest stars, mind you; I’m just genuinely curious. And it’s certainly an impressive, multi-generational list, with the likes of George Jones, Tom T. Hall, and Bobby Bare Sr. contributing to that spirit of authenticity and history, and Marty Stuart’s this close to being a member of that club. Elsewhere, Jeff Tweedy provides backing vocals on “Great Atomic Power,” a nod to the fact that many folks who buy this album will have first heard the song via Uncle Tupelo. Paul Burch, David Kilgour (!), and Kurt Wagner lead the Merge parade, with the connection being co-producer Mark Nevers and his Lambchop/Merge affiliation. Tift Merritt and Joy Lynn White each take a verse on “Grave on the Green Hillside,” while Eef Barzelay’s haunted voice, a quiver always lurking just below the surface, is arguably the one best suited for verse-swapping with Mr. Louvin. On the other hand, Will Oldham’s cameo on “Knoxville Girl” is the definition of superfluous (The Perm & The Skullet has it here).
But again, why the guests? You’d hope the name Charlie Louvin would be enough of a draw on its own, but the reality could be that a Tweedy spotting earns you an extra 5,000 sales. Interestingly, or perhaps wisely, the guests don’t engage in Louvin-trademark close harmonizing. They mostly just step in for a verse.
“The worst was losing you and singing all alone,” Louvin offers on the gorgeous, loving tribute “Ira,” the only song, appropriately, without a costar. So maybe that’s it: Charlie Louvin doesn’t necessarily want folks to sing with him, just alongside him. For the company.
There’s another Merge guest, Mac McCaughan, who contributes organ and guitar on one track. “Marky knew that I was a huge Louvin Brothers fan and asked me originally to sing and play on the album,” McCaughan says of Nevers. “’When I Stop Dreaming’ was the song I requested as it’s one of my favorite Louvins songs ever.” Unfortunately, McCaughan’s schedule didn’t allow him to travel to Nashville for the sessions, so he recorded his parts in Durham.
Things didn’t work out for his vocal contribution either. “My singing slot eventually got taken by Elvis Costello,” he explains, adding, “Can’t really complain about that choice.” I can. Costello is becoming a legend hog. I mean, c’mon, he just got to make a whole record with Allen Toussaint. I would love to hear how local hero McCaughan’s voice sounds bouncing off the walls of that rustic country church, alongside—but not too close to—Charlie Louvin’s.


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