Just one more time
Alejandro Escovedo is still on the road at 72
The first music I heard from Alejandro Escovedo was the first song on his first solo album. A friend has suggested that I get a copy to review for my zine, Sticks and Stones. I diligently wrote down the information: Watermelon Records in Texas? Could you spell that name… it's a mouthful. I had to call because this was 1992, before everyone had a website, and I remember the label publicist (or the owner, for all I know) asking how I had heard about Alejandro. It wasn't like one of those marketing studies. He seemed genuinely surprised.
When it arrived, I cued up "Paradise" and heard a slowly picked acoustic guitar, followed by
Did you get your invitation?
There's gonna be a public hanging
And the bodies will swing side by side
And it's just I and I.
This was deep, lyrically and musically; dour, beautiful, and heartbreaking. I'll admit it didn't click at first. Not until the third track, "One More Time," a Stonesy romp that grabs you by the lapels. That was the key that unlocked that album and everything that came after. And, it must be said, before. This might have been his first solo album, but by this time Escovedo was a seasoned vet of 41, and he had been in bands for at least 15 years, doing time in San Francisco punk band the Nuns, cowpunk pioneers Rank and File, and the shoulda-beens True Believers formed with his brother, Javier. At every turn, things didn't click in the marketplace, and Escovedo moved on, but not before picking up something that would become a part of his sound -- some punk roar, some twang, and some rootsy storytelling.
The two through lines of Escovedo's music are a reverence for the past and the ongoing challenge of the border between the U.S. and the rest of the world. Regarding the former you get spirited covers of tunes from Mott the Hoople and the Velvet Underground. As to the latter, you get a song like "Wave" from 2001''s A Man Under the Influence.
"Some went North, Some went South, some went East, some left out." The song is also part of the play "By the Hand of the Father" that came out around the same time featuring many of the same songs, and 2005's album with a string quartet, Room of Songs. The phrase also shows up in the liner notes of The Crossing, Escovedo's most recent album, which tells the story of two immigrants -- one from Italy, one from Mexico -- who find themselves in Galveston.
In some ways, that latest album is a consolidation of sorts, bringing together all of his musical influences and lyrical obsessions.
You could listen to Escovedo's first and last and be satisfied, maybe even hear one as the logical extension of the other. But you would be missing a path that zigs and zags through several rewarding avenues. I don't recall the first time I saw Escovedo perform live, but I do know that each time I've seen him was different from the one before. I've seen him with a rock quartet, solo with a cellist, with a string trio, with a full on rock band, solo… Each time the common denominator is the songs. You can hear "One More Time" as a rager or a plaintive ballad, and both feel like the exact perfect arrangement.
I write all of this because, contrary to my usual practice of not preparing for a show, I have been listening to a lot of Escovedo's music in anticipation of seeing him perform live for the first time in a long time, Saturday night at the Iowa Arts Festival here in Iowa City.
I last saw him play at a previous Iowa Arts Festival back in 2011. There, touring in support of the new Street Songs of Love album, the second of a trio made with producer Tony Visconti, who helmed some of David Bowie and T. Rex's best. As I wrote on Facebook at the time, lamenting the local paper playing up his countryish side in a preview, "Pity those who read the P-C and came to the Alejandro Escovedo show tonight expecting country. The first 3-4 songs of scorching glam-infused rawk (during which the soundman slowly realized Al's guitar was not a prop) drove away a lot of people. They missed the next 3-4 which were gorgeous acoustic numbers, followed by another blast of life-affirming rock. The impatient (and ill-informed) missed out on a great show." You can hear the set here.
That's sort of the thing with Escovedo. You get a little bit of everything. It might not be what you expect, but if you allow yourself to adapt, it will be what you need.
There are the quiet, moving songs like his cover of Ian Hunter’s “I Wish I was Your Mother":”
Or a fiery swing for the fences like “Always a Friend,” a duet with the Boss (co-written by fellow traveler Chuck Prophet):
Whatever you get, it will be worth your time. His current trio offers a stripped down take on his sound, with Escovedo handling all guitar duties, a reminder that he’s always had chops.
So yes, this 72 year old has done a little bit of everything, and for many of you, he has done so off the radar. But for those who know — such as Austin City Limits, which inducted him into its hall of fame in 2021, or No Depression magazine, which named him “Artist of the Decade” in 1998 (yes, two years before the end of the decade in question) — he has been a reliable recording artist and live act who is not to be missed. If you’re here in Iowa City, go check him out.