That America is home to such a rich body of vernacular music has a lot to do with the size of the country and its cultural diversity. In the first half of the 20th century in particular–and to some extent even in recent years–regional styles and traditions have developed, sometimes in near isolation, and other times in conjunction with so many other styles that the results have tested the existing boundaries of categorization. The blues of the Mississippi Delta, Memphis and Chicago. The country of Appalachia, Nashville, Bakersfield. The jazz of New Orleans, Kansas City, New York. The folk of Washington Square and Everytown, USA. The soul of Memphis, Motown, Philadelphia. All this to say nothing of the many styles of rock and roll that have distinct flavors in distinct locales.
And then there are the many humbler hometowns, like mine–Buffalo, NY–that without birthing any style singular enough to reach the national radar, have quietly cultivated dozens of important musical talents over the years. While Buffalo can lay claim to a handful of contemporary and erstwhile stars–Harold Arlen, Rick James, Brian McKnight, the Goo Goo Dolls, Ani Difranco, Mercury Rev–it has also been the launching pad for a number of acts with less name recognition but as much or more talent. One such artist is singer-songwriter Willie Nile, a Buffalo native who became a Greenwich Village fixture after attending the University of Buffalo. While Nile has never achieved notoriety or financial success to match the critical acclaim he has earned, he has produced a handful of accomplished full-lengths since the early 80s, and two of these–his self-titled 1980 debut and 2006’s Streets of New York–have the timeless quality of classics.
With the literate-rocker aesthetic of a new wave-era Elvis Costello or Nick Lowe, Nile is, at his best, a man who tosses off wisdom and addictive hooks with equal enthusiasm and ease. “Vagabond Moon,” the first cut on his first album, still stands as Nile’s finest–a rush of exuberance and feeling that narrowly outdoes several other gems on the record, such as “She’s So Cold,” “That’s The Reason,” and “It’s All Over.” It is that last track, though, on which Nile shows that even without clever words, he can be devastatingly effective. “It’s all over” he sings endlessly and anxiously until the last repeat, at which time his voice rises to resolution and he tacks on the word “now” as if only just ‘now’ resigning himself to reality.
Didn’t know Mercury Rev was from Buffalo. They used to be awesome.