I first saw Joe Ely perform live about 25 years ago at South by Southwest (SXSW). He was well known as one of the leading exponents of the progressive Austin country scene. In the 1970s, he was a founding member of the legendary Lubbock band the Flatlanders, along with Jimmie Dale Gilmore and Butch Hancock. Ely then went on to play with the notorious English punk band the Clash and even brought them back to Texas. By the time I had seen him, Ely had already recorded seven full-length solo albums.
Ely gave a commanding performance that thrilled the audience at the celebrated restaurant Las Manitas that night. I had gone to concerts for more than three decades by then at venues large and small, but I could easily say Ely’s gig was the best show I had ever been to in my life. (This is one of the reasons I still attend SXSW, even though the festival and the town have changed so much. I am hoping to capture that magic again.) After the show, I spoke with the singer-songwriter and felt I was in the presence of greatness. He was charismatic, thoughtful, and perceptive as he discussed his music and that of his peers.
I’ve seen the Grammy Award-winning artist play live dozens of times since then as a solo performer and a member of acts such as Los Super Sevens and the Flatlanders, as well as in various permutations with other artists at SXSW and different venues in Texas and even in my hometown of Iowa City. Joe Ely never fails to put on a good show. He is a craftsman (like his old friend and fellow Texan, the late Guy Clark) who continues to refine his musical output. He has never slowed down and has just released his 29th solo record, which incidentally contains Ely’s earnest rendition of Clark’s Tex Mex classic “Magdalene”.
The songs on Love and Freedom began as basic tracks Ely taped over the years at his Spur Studios and saved in a folder called Love and Freedom. Ely produced and played guitar, harmonica, and percussion, and longtime accompanist Joel Guzman played accordion on the original recordings. Joe Ely gave the music to Lloyd Maines to produce, who brought in guitarist David Grissom (John Mellencamp, James McMurtry) to add his touch to some of the songs. The finished products share a rough quality and a polished sheen.
Ely’s vocals stand out. He puts the emotional content front and center, whether offering a classic tale of addiction such as Townes Van Zandt‘s “Waiting Around to Die” or delivering a mirthful self-penned story of his encounters with a local cop on “Sgt. Baylock”. Nine of the cuts are original tunes, four are covers and most of the contents really are not about love or freedom as much as character studies of the protagonists. Ely inhabits their inner worlds, whether he’s singing about dice games or terrorist attacks. Fellow Texan Ryan Bingham joins him for Woody Guthrie‘s mournful elegy “Deportee (Plane Wreck at Los Gatos)” and sings happily about his bank robbing success on “Today It Did”. Well, the latter isn’t exactly true, as the thief ends up paying for his crime.
The quality of Love and Freedom is consistent with the other works in Ely’s discography. He’s never put out a bad record. Ely’s idiosyncratic choice of tunes and styles on an album like this, whose contents were not initially recorded as part of a purposeful product, may seem random. However, his protagonists desire a better life in a world that can be cruel. They instinctually protest against their fates. They matter to themselves and aren’t ashamed to say so. Joe Ely’s voice rings out as a collective yawp for individual identity.