Ambers of Daylight

In 1973 Chris Darrow released his first solo album, Chris Darrow, and then a year later brought out his second, Under My Own Disguise. Over the course of these two fine albums Darrow shows his inventive grasp of a wide array of musical genres. Still making great music today, in the 60s & 70s Darrow was a well-respected and sought after multi-instrumentalist involved in the Southern California psychedelic-folk-bluegrass-country-rock scene (yep, that scene), who helped form the Dry City Scat Band and the ahead of the curve psych-folk outfit Kaleidoscope, was a member of the Nitty Gritty Dirt Band and The Corvettes (Linda Ronstandt’s backing band), and session player on more albums than you can shake a stick at. The man has skills.


On the debut album, Darrow comes out of the gate with Albuquerque Rainbow, a western skies Marshall Tucker Band driving song.

Chris Darrow - Albuquerque Rainbow [buy]

He follows this up by putting his fiddle skills to good use over a reggae beat provided by the British group Greyhound. And already you can tell how eclectic Darrow's musical vision is. After that, among other songs, we get a double-mandolin instrumental, “Devils’ Dream,” a haunting folk ballad, “We Don’t Talk of Lovin’ Anymore” (which has Darrow playing mandolin, banjo, violin, and hammer dulcimer), Hoagy Charmichaels’ “Hong Kong Blues,” the gentle bluegrass of “A Good Woman’s Love (with Darrow’s beautiful and restrained slide guitar adding extra color), and this blues number:

Chris Darrow - Whipping Boy [buy]


Under My Own Disguise shows Darrow still conjuring up his own brand of Cosmic American Music. The first minute or so of the album’s opener, “Miss Pauline,” allows Darrow’s fiddle and Mark Naftalin’s accordion time to do more than nod to the way back traditional musical past (when it first gets going, Darrow’s fiddle seems to me to sound like bagpipes), before the song breaks into a barn-dancing good time. And from there on Darrow, while spending more time with country rock possibilities, offers a range of styles, including a jazzy-folk cover of the Ink Spots’ “Java Jive,” more SoCal country rock “Maybe It’s Just as Well,” some blues, “Wherever You Are” and “You Can’t Outplay the Blues” (the latter of which I can only seem to hear as an early Tom Waits song), a short instrumental “Live or Die Rag,” and an on the country side of country rock weeper “Living Like a Fool”.

Chris Darrow - Living Like a Fool [buy]

William Ruhlman over at Allmusic, along with others elsewhere, suggest that a flaw in these albums might be Darrow’s refusal to stand out front either vocally or as a songwriter, comparing him unfavorably to Gram Parsons. Now, God bless Gram and all, but not everyone was born to stand front and center with a Nudie suit on. And while it’s true that there’s nothing here as sad-eyed country perfect as “Hickory Wind” or some of Parsons’ other virtuoso pieces, a song like Another Sundown shuffles the deck on this response to Darrow’s efforts on these albums.

Chris Darrow - Another Sundown [buy]

Ok, so that marimba in the first few seconds worries me, sounds like some lifeless island warm-up is about to go down, but there is that pedal steel making a few promises. Darrow eases into the song vocally, and then sweet Jesus, the band drops into one of the deepest grooves I have ever encountered, with British pedal steel legend B.J Cole soloing brilliantly and cashing in good on every promise made. For a decent portion of the song Darrow is in the background, playing piano low in the mix, but then he picks up his fiddle and soars like the 4th of July, flying high over that relentlessly funky groove. If creating the space where music this incredible can be produced is refusing to take the spotlight, I want a lot more people to lay back in the cut like Darrow. I guess one could read Darrow’s eclecticism as a bit more style than substance -- Ruhlman puts it that baldly -- but when the songs are this good, why would you.