"The New High Road Of Song" is the third album by Halifax Nova
Scotia's unsung hero, Al Tuck, and his first for the Brobdingnagian
label. Attempting to convey the depth and warmth of this
singer/songwriter's album with mere words is pointless. That having been
said, the point of this write-up is to spark the music lover's interest
in this staggering body of work. So, with that in mind, let it be said
that "The New High Road Of Song" is a sublime album that takes
the most soulful elements of Bob Dylan's Caribbean ventures and filters
them through a sieve of Jim O'Rourke & Sea and Cake. This is an album
that goes from world-weary country to pulse pounding dub in a
heartbeat. Al has created a richly dense music that sounds as if it has
always existed. Do you remember the first time that you heard Blood on
the tracks? Well, you knew that you were onto something special then,
and believe me when I tell you that you're onto something special now.
"The New High Road Of Song" is a haunting body of work, written
and performed by a survivor. One listen, and it's obvious that Al bled
for this album. He is a singer songwriter of unheralded sophistication,
and this, his third album is one of the more significant pieces of music
to come out in some time.
The third album by Halifax, Nova Scotia native and one of North America's
least-known exceptional songwriters is a dense, sublime masterwork. Al Tuck's
songs are world-weary but rich in soulful élan, instant old friends. On the
dubwise opener "Eliminate Ya" he sings nonchalantly regarding his music:
"People are gonna want to hear it". This is not, however, braggadocio. It's
as if the observation just happened to be floating around in his head, so he
decided to let it free, yet he has no attachment to it one way or another.
Regardless, the statement’s supreme confidence is not misplaced. The New High
Road of Song is an exceptional album. The degree of looseness in Tuck's music
is endearing and exactly right. It is neither messy nor sloppy, it is simply
candid and honest, and belongs to that late-late-night window of time when
you cannot get to sleep no matter what you do and, as a result, are incapable
of lying to yourself any longer, even when you try to. Tuck is less
Dylanesque an almost inevitable comparison for such a literate and droll
songwriter in his wordplay than in the tossed-off, immanently witty
irreverence of his lyrics. His songs, in fact, bypass wordiness altogether.
They sound, instead, like they are being slowly squeezed from him, and as
soon as they are out in the open, the music envelops them. It renders what he
does say even more wrenching and emphasizes how wonderful his lazy, workaday
vignettes really are. The production is an apropos counterpart to the mood,
attractively atmospheric like something Daniel Lanois might have helmed. The
guitars weave intoxicated webs, warped oases of sound that nevertheless
retain their loopy good nature and never threaten to drown Tuck's infectious
sense of humor. The laidback nature of the music is perfectly framed by
endeavors into languid reggae underpinnings on "(Damn Near) Do Me Justice"
and "Hurry (Soon It’ll Be Too Late)" and swaying Caribbean rhythms on "Not
I." And Tom Waits or maybe Mose Allison could have written "Bean's Blues" if
it weren’t so much less downtrodden and so much more playful. Tuck's songs
are like conversations with whatever stranger happens to be sitting at the
bar. They open up with almost no prompting and reveal little insights that
are as amusingly personal as they are poignant, even if that poignancy is
almost an afterthought. The informal romanticism of "Killing Time" is all the
more heartfelt because it is so casual, like two friends and would-be lovers
lounging together on a couch on a Saturday afternoon with nothing else to do
but sweet talk each other. The same goes for "When It Rains (Flora)" the
jazzy guitar chords punctuating the dizzy conversation taking place, part of
it in the narrator's own head. Those moments where he turns the dialogue in
on himself are the most precious. We have all had similar internal debates
with ourselves, but rarely have they sounded as exquisite and humble. Tuck
may not want to toot his own horn, as he claims on "(Damn Near) Do Me
Justice" but that doesn’t mean it shouldn’t be blown, as often and as loudly
as possible and to the widest conceivable audience.
Stanton Swihart - All Music Guide
Halifax singer/songwriter Al Tuck has seen it all. Almost a decade after the
infamous Halifax Pop Explosion, which saw major record labels scour our
country's East Coast for the Next Big Thing, he remains a constant fixture
in his community's music scene. Bands have come and gone, moved to Toronto,
or just flat out split, yet Al Tuck is still kicking around the proverbial
can. Few will even remember his release on Sloan's then upstart label,
murderecords, but that all seems a distant memory now. With his third album,
The New High Road Of Song, Halifax's unsung hero has offered an irresistible
collection of laid-back, jazz-inflected, indie groove rock. Equal parts
Beck, the Sea and Cake and Jim O'Rourke, this is the perfect companion to
sitting around and finishing that book you've been putting off for the last
four months or sitting around sipping tea on a bitterly cold winter night
when no one wants to go out. Dig the caribbean/calypso reggae vibe a la
Finley Quaye on "(Damn Near) Do Me Justice" and "Not I" or the Joan of
Arc-ish, art-house jazz noodling in the background of "Killing Time."
This eccentric mofo is one of Canada's best-kept secrets. Brian Pascual - Chart Magazine
For all of the success won by East Coast musicians in the past decade, the genius of one of the Maritimes' most talented sons remains largely undiscovered. Singer/songwriter Al Tuck shines his light under a barrel. While bands like Jale, Hardship Post, Thrush Hermit and the Super Friendz signed record deals and toured the world, Tuck preferred to stay close to home in Halifax, where he continually refined the contents of his stunning songbook. As he sings on "(Damn Near) Do Me Justice", "I ain't no good at all that shmoozing and nagging / I try not to toot my own horn as a rule." The stunning quality of Tuck's third album, The New High Road Of Song, pretty much ensures he can stand back while other people sing his praises to the heavens. The album's ten magical tracks are pure Tuck - quietly understated songs that resonate with a warm intensity. Musically, the vibe shimmers from dub excursions and salt of the earth folk to forlorn country and western tracks. Far from being a mish-mash, it all works and flows seamlessly from track to track. The Album of the year line forms in the rear.
Christopher Waters - Exclaim! Magazine
