Review by Chris Mattern
TIM BARRY – Manchester
(Suburban Home Records)
Tim Barry is a great story teller. In my opinion, the art of writing - whether that be a song, story, or poetry - is the ability to recreate a time and place, factual or fictional, in a way that the reader/listener can experience as you did. It’s about using words and sound to convey the sights, sounds, smells, and emotions through the medium at hand. Tim Barry – best known as the vocalist of the veteran Virginia hardcore/punk band Avail - is a master of this fine art, and his second full-length solo album, Manchester, is a beautiful work.
I must admit, I was never a fan of Avail. I don’t dislike the band, I simply have never been inspired to drop my change on its music. I am aware that many hardcore fans are hung up on what is seemingly a drastic change in style from Avail on Tim’s solo work. Do yourselves a huge favor and get over it. Most of these songs are based on standard, simple, rock chord progressions, presented with simplicity and honesty whether anyone likes it or not; and that, my friends, is a pretty solid definition of punk rock music. The electric guitars and bass may have been swapped out for violin, piano and banjo, but deep inside, Manchester is simply a great punk rock record. The presentation might be different, but the angst and hunger are still there. This is why Tim Barry is able to dance on the edge of folk, blues, and dare I say country, all the while maintaining an extremely high level of raw energy. Tim manages to keep many in the punk scene behind him, and at the same time moves into uncharted ground, acquiring new fans who may not even be familiar with his 20-year involvement in punk rock.
Starting with the opening track, "Texas Cops," a rocky, bluesy ode to putting the past behind you, Barry takes us on a thought-provoking and sincere trip through a dozen outstanding tracks. The ballad "Ronnie’s Song," a deep and descriptive story of the changes that take place in one’s hometown and long standing friendships as they grow and come of age, sits elegantly on the same disc as the uptempo blues of the honest-yet-ironically comedic "Tile Work." Amazingly, each track stands on its own two feet. There is no filler on this record, which in my opinion is pretty amazing. If Tim’s debut solo record, Rivanna Junction, offered a big pair of shoes to fill, Manchester does the job and splits the heels wide open.
The subject matter that this great storyteller explores on this record ranges from the Johnny Cash-esque "South Hill," the story of a young man who joins the military in an attempt to provide for his family (and winds up exposed to the horrors and realities of war,) to "Sagacity Gone" and "This November," stories of alienation, mistakes made, and the indulgences that follow, delivered in a manner that makes you want to clap your hands, stomp your feet, break out a cheap drum set, an out of tune guitar, and celebrate. "Tacoma" and "On and On" invoke feelings of guilt that make you accept the reality of an oftentimes glorified life of addiction that many of us can on some level relate to.
I could write a 15-page paper about what Manchester means to me and how I can relate to its every last word, but who really wants to hear that crap? What I will do is promise that a little piece of everybody can be found within the words of this true American folk artist. Whether you are a devout punk rocker, a connoisseur of the blues, an aficionado of bluegrass, or just a fan of good old rock n roll, you will find that Manchester might not just complement your music collection, but will likely end up in your CD player (or on your turntable) for months.
Manchester, much like its predecessor Rivanna Junction, is punk rock for the older and wiser. Unfortunately for most of us, a time will come when we no longer find ourselves smashed against the front of the stage at a local punk rock show five nights a week. We get older, we get jaded, and we find ourselves trying to hold on to the last nights of summer, sitting around a case of cheap beer wondering how in the hell the last 10 years got us here… with a skipping Tim Barry CD playing quietly in the background. – – "Damn it, Tim! Get yer shit together!"
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