featuring the very best of americana, alt.country and roots music
June 4, 2022
Scott Foley, purveyor of dust
I'm sure good things happen in Florida. I believe a lot of KC & the Sunshine Band's songs were born of the state's pastel mythology. Heck, it's where Tom Petty got his start, responsible at least in part for Lynyrd Skynyrd, Allman Brothers, Gram Parsons. Without the Sunshine State we might never have been told by Gloria Estefan how words get in the way or how the rhythm is gonna get you. The Tampa area served as the launchpad for New Orleans' singer-songwriter Thomas Dollbaum, whose debut Wellswood was just released by the trustworthy Big Legal Mess label. Named after what one website touts as the #55 best neighborhood in Tampa (great schools! lotsa crime!), the record won't likely be used by Florida's tourism board. Dollbaum present his homestate as a place to be escaped: Someday, I will leave the city before it fucks me up.
Thomas Dollbaum studied poetry during his stint in academia, but there is no stiff formality in Wellswood. Instead, Dollbaum's lyrics share more in common with the Southern gothic writers like Harry Crews, Larry Brown or Barry Hannah, scribes who found their muse far away from the region's beaches and boardwalks. On the haunting "Break Your Bones", he calls out Nebraska Avenue and Orient Road, his fractured vocal filling the night like Jason Molina: Juliet's cracked up on Nebraska Avenue / And your daddy's out here huffing paint / Oh I want to leave this town. With co-producer and multi-instrumentalist Matt Seferian, they populate the album's trailing moments with brushed acoustic guitar and tentatively glinting piano. "Break Your Bones" inspires rapt attention, a quality that carries throughout the sessions.
Like Richard Buckner's seminal Devotion + Doubt, this is a collection whose intensity is frequently fostered through silence and space. The opener, "Florida" is initially disorienting, Dollbaum's mumbled meandering vocal underlaid with barely-there acoustic fingerpicking. As the song is revealed, those vocals reach beyond their breaking point, strings pulse and electric guitars growl to life. It's a beautifully damning portrait that speaks to inescapable abuse and disillusion: Come back home honey, when everything falls apart for you. The stark imagery sets a desolate tone for the stories and songs that follow: Go down the street honey / Sell that ass / It's a quick way to make some cash / Josephine don't you cry. Dollbaum's Florida will never love you back.
The songs of Wellswood aren't simply an anti-travel guide. The seven-minute "Moon" shines its measured light on the wake of a relationship, with the narrator lamenting All I want is a chicken in the yard / And your love for Jesus Christ. Dollbaum's lyrics grant a glimpse into the lives of the least of these, real-lived scenarios of folks lost out here in God's country. "God's Country" takes a bluesier rock approach, adding slide guitar and haphazard drums for a portrait of the denizens of a neighborhood where even the trees lean with a grudge.
Thomas Dollbaum's drawled, yowled vocals break with passion on some of the more muscular tracks on his debut. Drums beat and guitars slash on "Gold Teeth", and "All is Well" finds the singer offering a high lonesome croon atop jazz-colored keys like a wayward Steely Dan cut: Some people need a woman to hold onto / Some people need that night train wine / I need both dear, because I'm selfish and unkind. Fellow singer-songwriter Kate Teague provides essential backing vocals throughout, adding extra dimension to Wellswood's mix.
Dollbaum isn't damning these lost souls, but shows a degree of compassion for the people who were his Florida neighbors, family and friends. On the impressionistic "Strange", he counsels Never never never give up / On the things that make you feel less alone. Below a squall of droning guitar, "Work Hard" shows deep, tough heart: All the birds in the sky / You know they don't mean much to me / Unless they mean a lot to you. It's that care, along with the gorgeously ramshackle arrangements, that suggest some redemption between the grooves of Wellswood. As I've mentioned over the years, the only truly depressing music is stuff that's poorly, carelessly created. This first collection of songs introduces a writer who is genuinely invested in his craft, committed to telling a true story. Followers of Water Liars, Magnolia Electric Co or John Murry will understand. Readers of Daniel Woodrell or William Gay will welcome a kindred soul.
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