Jimmy Lafave

A thoughtful writer�s heart that beats with the wounded, soulful voice of a poet...and even then there�s something unsaid in trying to describe the songs, the music, and the spirit of Jimmy Lafave. A long time fixture in the ever-vibrant music scene of Austin, Texas, Lafave has spent the last fifteen years carving out his place as one of Americana music�s truly exceptional artists. Cimarron Manifesto, his seventh album to date and second for Minnesota-based Red House Records, is a career defining statement.

Standing alone at night in the middle of an empty street somewhere in America...walking across a steel-span country bridge...moving through the hillside grasses of wide open spaces...strolling off into the fog down a two-lane dirt road...these are the images that grace the cover of Cimarron Manifesto...and before you even listen to a single note, these snapshots somehow capture the spirit of what lies ahead for the listener. But as the music begins and the first lines roll out through the speakers...we get the sense that Jimmy Lafave is drawn to the road and his road winds not only through the heart of a country but through the heart of a man as well.

"You know I�ll never understand it babe / The wanderlust in my soul / Though I want to be with you / Hey I don�t really know / Cause I�m looking out your window girl / And I�m driftin� with the wind / Movin� on is my middle name / Hey here I go again" 

Those are the words that kick off "Car Outside", the album�s opening track. And while the lyrics may suggest that we�re listening to a song simply about leaving, the tempo and the spirit of "Car Outside" suggests something more. It feels like a "roll the windows down" highway song and when it�s sung by the restless soul it seems to say that sometimes we have to leave purely because we have to go.

"There�s a car outside / There�s a road / There�s a time to stay / And a time to rock n roll." 

And while the road stretches out ahead of us, it�s the rearview mirror that reminds of us of where we�ve been and what we�ve left behind. What follows "Car Oustide" are the long shadows of sunset streaming across the highway as Lafave gives us the first of three cover songs with a powerful and emotional version of Donovan�s "Catch the Wind". Lafave�s take is slower and more heartfelt than the original and the longing in his voice gives the song a depth and a sadness that in many exceeds that of the original. What we�re left with is the sense of a single tear gathering in the mind�s eye and the combination of voice and musical backdrop give "Catch the Wind" the feeling of memory at the edge of a dying day.

"When sundown hails the sky / I want to hide awhile behind your smile / And everywhere I�d look your eyes I�d find / For me to love you now would be the sweetest thing / It would make me sing / But I may as well try and catch the wind."

With the sun now set and the darkness growing deeper, the album moves from the heart of man into the heart of nation as we step into the album�s third cut, "This Land". It is here that we find one of the album�s strongest statements as Lafave turns his attention to America and shines his headlights on a country that in a way is also searching for itself. In one poignant moment halfway through "This Land" he seems to pull off to the side of the road to ask for a little direction: 

"Children dying / on some foreign soil / For God�s Sake won�t you tell me / What�s all this fighting for?"

And while the song�s high beams don�t shed a light on an answer to that question, they do seem to illuminate the consequence of waiting so long to ask it: 

"As I went driving / Through the American night / And I slowly watched my freedoms / Disappear right out of sight...traveling through this land." 

Here Lafave seems to be channeling the spirit of his red-dirt hero Woody Guthrie, by taking his pen, his guitar, and his voice to take a stand, not against, but for his country. "This Land" is a timely piece that in a way reminds us that there are many highways that we can choose to travel. America after all is a land of roads stretching from sea to sea so why stay the course on one single lane when there�s so much more to see? Or at the very least, let�s not forget that we can always pull off along the shoulder and take a moment to figure out where we really want to go. 

Throughout Cimarron Manifesto�s twelve tracks Jimmy Lafave is part wanderer and part filled with wonder. In one moment he�s seeking out the forgotten protagonists from rock n roll�s past in the stompin� beat of "That�s the Way It Goes" only to stop us in our tracks with the love song tenderness of "Lucky Man". In the next instant he�s joined by Ruthie Foster for the soulful and bluesy rendering of Joe South�s "Walk a Mile in My Shoes" only to tug once again at the heart�s strings in "Home Once Again". Lafave balances the album with so motion and emotion that it almost rises and falls like road itself.

As it�s defined, a manifesto is a "declaration of motives and intentions by a person regarded as having some public importance". With that in mind, we make one final stop before all is said and done and this journey finds its end. I�ve always considered Jimmy Lafave one of the greatest interpreters of Bob Dylan�s songs and I can�t imagine the song chosen for inclusion on this record was made on the basis of coincidence. It seems fitting that we should end with the opening lines of Dylan�s "Not Dark Yet"...in his own way Jimmy Lafave makes them his own:

"Shadows are falling, I�ve been here all day / It�s too hot to sleep and time is running away / Feels like my soul has turned into steel / I still got the scars the sun didn�t heal / There�s not even room enough to be anywhere / It�s not dark yet / But it�s getting there...."