The 1985 Project Part 19: The Blasters - Hard Line

I'll always have a soft spot for this great band

I’ve been looking at the albums of 1985, starting with the 40 top finishers in that year’s Village Voice Pazz and Jop Poll, while still wondering what process I’ll use 21 weeks from now to cover more stuff.

The Blasters were one of my favorite bands of the early 80s, and this was probably their most consistent album. (I say probably because the first one on Slash, The Blasters gives it a run for its money.) It didn’t take long after this album came out for songwriter Dave Alvin to leave for a brief sojourn in X and a long solo career. Singer Phil Alvin recruited Hollywood Fats as his replacement, and I saw that version of the band about a year after this came out. It was incendiary, but Fats died suddenly and that was it, aside from sporadic reunion shows and a record many years later.

But when Hard Line appeared in 1985, it was just the latest record by a band I loved. As such, it garnered much time on my turntable at home and at work. Dave Alvin was rapidly improving as a songwriter, coming up with deeper and richer lyrics to match his penchant for hooks that fit all kinds of American roots music forms. There’s a mismash of blues and doo wop and rockabilly and r&b and country and Cajun and other styles, though you can rarely say any given song is only one thing.

There were five members of the Blasters at this time. Brothers Dave and Phil Alvin played the guitars, Gene Taylor played piano, John Bazz was on bass, and Bill Bateman on drums. David Hidalgo added some accordion parts. I’m not sure who played fiddle on “Little Honey,” but that was an invaluable contribution. John Mellencamp wrote and produced “Colored Lights,” which I have to admit was a fact I completely forgot over the ensuing decades.

The first sound on this record comes from the Jordanaires, most famous as the backing vocalists on old Elvis Presley records. “Trouble, trouble, trouble,” they harmonize across three chords. Dave Alvin’s reverbed, shiny guitar lick pulls us into a gospel blues feel before it settles down into a repeated riff as the band joins in. This is neither a gospel nor a blues song, though. Alvin took a blues situation – “I’m old enough to know the score / But I’m young enough to want more more more” – and makes him aware he’s in need of salvation – “And I don’t think twice when the sun goes down / I’m trouble bound.” Dave Alvin, one of my favorite singers ever, grabs his brother’s lyrics and shakes all the feeling into his voice. Those Jordanaires keep oohing and aahing and repeating the chorus line. The kick drum resets the groove with a couple insistent beats every now and then. And eventually Dave Alvin and Gene Taylor bounce brilliant solos off each other. Nobody escapes from the situation of the song – “I try to make a living every day / But deep in the night I throw it all away.” But the recording’s excitement carries on through the rest of the album.

Dave Alvin’s friendship with John Doe of X led to two co-writes here – “Just Another Sunday” and “Little Honey.” The former is built on a tough rocking guitar riff, but is essentially a blueprint for the kind of story songs Dave Alvin would specialize in when he went solo. “Little Honey” is a Cajun-inspired country song which Phil Alvin sings with the gentlest approach at his disposal. Fiddle and mandolin dominate here, with maybe a jaws harp and wood blocks accompanying the bass. The song itself is a sad one, as his little honey is clearly not faithful but he can’t figure out what to do about it. Oh, the sound of Phil Alvin’s voice on “Sit here waiting ‘til you come home alone” is heartbreaking. I suspect that’s Doe’s contribution.

Another Jordanaires feature is “Help You Dream,” another story song though this one is all told in the voice of a guy at a bar trying out his pick-up lines. “You’re the prettiest woman I think I’ve ever seen” serves as a magnificently unforgettable and highly singable hook line. It doesn’t get him the girl in the song, but it sure wins over those of us listening to the record.

I don’t want to forget the dynamic take on the traditional spiritual “Samson and Delilah.” I don’t think Sister Rosetta Tharpe ever recorded this, but her guitar playing sure sounds like the template for Dave Alvin’s playing here. I don’t know who the back-up singers are here, though they clearly come from a gospel background. With just Dave’s furious guitar riffing and the backing vocals, Phil takes center stage even more than on the rest of the album. He tells that familiar Bible story and convinces us that “If I had my way I’d tear this building down.” This foreshadows the wonderful solo record Phil would release in 1986, Un Sung Stories, on which he was joined by the Dirty Dozen Brass Band and Sun Ra’s Arkestra for a bunch of gospel, blues, and other traditional material.

The album ends with the blistering “Rock and Roll Will Stand.” At first listen, it’s easy to think this song is a typical celebration of the power of rock’n’roll, and the performance certainly is. But the lyrics tell of a young boy full of love for the music who gets smoothed over by the record company machinery and fails to entice the people who actually buy the music. The harsh reality of capitalist competition is the real subject of the song. Perhaps it’s a wry comment on the fact that the Blisters were critic’s darlings but never sold many records themselves.

This is a hard one to grade, but I think 8.5 out of 10 stars is fair.