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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