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CARBON LEAF
5 Alive (Constant Ivy)
Reviewed by Erick Mertz
The torch of the Grateful Dead being passed on to Dave Mathews has always been a bit suspicious to me. I know, he's a nice guy and all, but there is something a little too safe and tame about Dave and his crowd that really doesn't work in this context. If someone is going to go further and keep the hard driving, touring band ethic alive, the act should fuse talent with something of a dangerous bend.
Coming quite close to taking that torch is Carbon Leaf, the emergent talent from the Coca-Cola New Music Award. OK, so maybe the winner of a Coca-Cola award has, by association, lost its gritty credibility, but in all honesty, an award is just that and the proof should be in the album. Would anyone scoff at the writer of Memento, and regard it with any less respect if his work had won him a Disney fellowship?
The double disc 5 Alive is that delightfully romping stomping live album that jam band fans have been waiting for. Full of home spun drinking and fighting folk songs, the type to sing along with a pint of Guinness, the boys from Carbon Leaf have something truly unique on their hands with 5 Alive and the forthcoming studio album next year has officially gone on the highly anticipated list. Songs are almost indescribably diverse, from the free spirited joy ride of "Blue Ridge Laughing" to "Home" which opens with an a cappella version of "Sloop John B." The Beach Boys classic melts quickly into what develops into a swinging little Irish ditty, a strange yet apt enfolding.
The Celtic rock influences are prominent as are the jazz and free form rock elements. Over the two discs, there is little emotively or musically that Carbon Leaf has neglected. It is mellow and spirited, folksy and dwelling in another atmosphere altogether; call it, Blues for Allah for the 21st Century. While the legions of limbo lingering Dead Heads wait pensively for the next great thing, a five piece from Randolph-Macon College can quietly smile, confident that they just might be it.
© 2003 - Erick Mertz