Chris Bathgate

Apparently, if you’re from Ann Arbor, MI, “it’s hard to speak about Chris without spiraling towards hyperbole.” Chris Bathgate’s website bio would have you believe that he’s God in the Ann Arbor folk scene. For all I know, his fellow Michigan folkies may actually fall to their knees in worship when A Cork Tale Wake is played. The thing is: if God were this hit or miss, we’d all be screwed.

Don’t get me wrong; A Cork Tale Wake isn’t a terrible album-it isn’t even a bad album. However, rather than being a grower, this album’s a little bit of a nagger. At first, I sort of liked Bathgate’s sound. Unfortunately, I couldn’t tell if the disc had started over two-thirds of the way through the album or if he just kept re-using the same “throw in the jazz trumpets at the climax” motif that had drawn me in on earlier tracks. Because Bathgate gets stuck on repeatedly using these same tricks, I have a harder and harder time making it to the end with each listen of this album. Last time I checked, that’s a bad thing.

Nonetheless, beginning to end, there are some good tracks on A Corktale Wake. “The Last Parade on Ann St.” and “The Last Wine of Winter” are both incredible songs. The former echoes with heartbreak while the later gives the listener a sense of how lonely the Midwest can be in the winter. Though I didn’t love the bulk of the song, the distorted trumpets that end “A Flash of Light Followed By” were the most original sound on the album. Yet, there are also songs that I absolutely hate, most notably the oddly misplaced “Smile Like A Fist.”

To be fair, I sort of liked this album on my first listen. Unfortunately, too many of the songs rely on the same worn-out tricks (like the aforementioned “jazz trumpets at the climax”). The songs do evoke that sense of loneliness and despair that I associate with life in the Midwest, but not as well as a certain other Michigan folkie that sent us some Greetings from Michigan back in 2003. Every time Bathgate whips out the banjo or the trumpet, I have a hard time not wishing that I were listening to Mr. Stevens’ “For the Widows in Paradise, for the Fatherless in Ypsilanti” instead. That might be unfair, but it’s the truth.

This album is by no means the worst Midwest folk album that I’ve heard. It’s halfway enjoyable, but it’s also mostly forgettable. Having sampled some of Bathgate’s earlier work, A Cork Tale Wake is certainly progress. Bathgate is a pretty formidable songwriter, and I enjoy most of his lyrics (though he’s a bit conflicted, proclaiming that there is no God in “Restless” and saying that true love is god in “Coda (Ann St. Pt. 2),” which all comes off as sentimental crap in my mind). His delivery just leaves something to be desired, relying on the same dog and pony show too often. If his ideas were something entirely original, I probably wouldn’t care that his style is repetitive. They aren’t, though, so Bathgate’s sound just comes off as a little “been there, done that.” I don’t think a good-maybe even great-album is out of the question for Chris Bathgate; A Cork Tale Wake just isn’t that album.

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