American prayer
The ultimate country-gospel duet: an outlaw queen covers King David by David Fricke.
Jessi Colter The Psalms LEGACY. CD/DL
THERE ARE certainly older bodies of song, born and gathered as soon as humankind discovered the expressive power of voice. But the Psalms of David were the first Greatest Hits. Ascribed to the Old Testament king and musician in the Hebrew and Christian faiths, with 3,600 specifically credited to him in one of the Dead Sea Scrolls, they are a sturdy canon of wonder and warning, travelling far in interpretation from Stravinsky and Steve Reich to Bob Dylan, U2 and, yes, Megadeth. But the profound communion on this album – Jessi Colter’s first in over a decade, produced with spectral affinity by Patti Smith guitarist Lenny Kaye – is at once fearlessly modern and firmly humbled: strict, lyric readings of 12 Psalms in dynamic vocal and piano improvisations at a crossroads of old-time Nashville, outlaw country, wide-open church and avant pop. This is bold, seeking rapture, given on bended knee. The genesis of The Psalms goes back to 1995, when Kaye was collaborating with Colter’s husband, Waylon Jennings, on his autobiography. One day at the couple’s Nashville home, Kaye found Colter at the livingroom piano, performing striking, impromptu versions of the Psalms. After Jennings’ death, Kaye recorded Colter in 2007 and 2008 in that solitary, immersive worship. There was no rehearsal, some accompaniment on guitar, and subsequent colouring overdubs by an empathic corps including Al Kooper on organ and French horn, The Jayhawks’ John Jackson on mandolin and jazz drummer Bobby Previte. On occasion, other spirits pass through the room: the Dylan of New Morning in Psalm 75, Unto Thee; Neil Young at his Harvest piano during Colter’s opening, instrumental ascent to Psalm 114, And The Mountains Skip Like Rams. It is no surprise, given Kaye’s experience with slow-burn rock’n’roll trance, when Colter evokes Patti Smith’s chant-like urgency in the chastening redemption of Psalm 73, Like A Beast. The Psalms comes with plenty of mainstream country – in the supple, drawling warmth of Colter’s voice – and spiritual certainty. But it is easy to recognise the broader, ecumenical grace and relief of Joni Mitchell’s early records and Laura Nyro’s salvation songs in Colter’s passionate focus and rolling, intuitive aplomb at the piano. Her closing Psalm 72, Arise O King Of Old, is all descriptions of God’s indisputable power – except Colter emphasises the charity in that force, often lost in many stern, evangelical sermons: “For he shall deliver the needy when he cries… and him that hath no helper.” It is often said that the day of reckoning is at hand. For Colter, on The Psalms, it is also one of giving – and it is always here, every day.