4 out of 5

Label: 429 Records

Produced by: Cracker?

Post the popularity of their Kerosene Hat singles, it was always a little tough being a Cracker fan.  You’d try to explain to people the Camper Van Beethoven lineage, but nonetheless, recommend the new Cracker album and you’d inevitably get a “they’re still around?” type response, blended with that type of reverie we have for bands we “used to listen to.”  And the problem was, for a lot of those post-Kerosene Hat years, though there were excellent tracks scattered across several albums – and some standout albums, as well – it was a little too easy to hear the old-man rock element of the band, dating them as “uncool” to certain listeners.  I can’t exactly fault them.  Until I got into CVB I didn’t come around to Cracker, but now I’m immensely pleased to have them in my collection.

As the years ticked by, albums appeared every few years – Forever, Countrysides, etc. – but they all had frequent appearances of that “Cracker” sound, which would feature Lowery’s amusing narratives, but would also be just a dash too… frank to really feel smart or silly-snide in the way the best CVB / Cracker tracks can.

Sunrise, right away with ‘Yalla Yalla,’ kicks aside a lot of the country-tinged elements of previous discs for an arresting rock sound, absolutely harkening back to Kerosene / Golden Age era rockers.  This holds up for the whole disc; the album finds the group is performing more sharply than ever before, and delivering concise, complete songs that keep the licks tight and places momentum first – there’s even a nigh-punk song with “Hand Me My Inhaler” – while delivering the kind of lyrical intelligent cynicism which Lowery can pen better than most.  This isn’t to suggest that country and folk don’t deserve a place at the table (as the group would show with the equally excellent double disc Berkeley to Bakersfield), but it’s invigorating – and feels like it invigorated the band – to hear them focus on a solid 40 minutes of rock.  The one overly “Cracker” moment – Friends – feels like it’s kept in check by the vocals from Drive By Trucker Patterson Hood, who grumbles it up and gives the track the roughshod edge it needs to keep it in line with the rest of the album.

Towards the end of the disc, the compositions remain strong but some of the creativity peters out; Time Machine, Hey Bret, Darling One are solid, they just lack the exact slacker shine of Turn On, Tune In, Drop Out With Me or the bristling energy of I Could Be Wrong, I Could Be Right (which has me amazed on each listen that then-49-year-old Lowery could deliver such impassioned vocals).

Sunrise in the Land of Milk and Honey isn’t a reinvented Cracker; fans know that there’s been great stuff delivered by these guys for years.  However, this is the first album in a while that doesn’t require that prerequisite fandom to appreciate.  It’s not an old band trying to sound new; it’s not a lineup or genre change – it’s just the group hitting a groove, and it’s delivered with such confidence, it makes you think they could keep dropping albums this solid for years yet.