Dryvetyme Onlyne

Ryan Bingham
Roadhouse Sun
Lost Highway; 2009

Back when I actively attempted to write lyrics, my songs were typically filled with rather thin philosophical meanderings that vainly pretended to be deep and meaningful. Granted, I wasn’t the first person to commit such a compositional travesty (and I won’t be the last), but I had yet to learn that my own story should be my focus – what I know, what I’ve learned, and where I’m going. People want to (and will always) connect with the tales of an honest, believable bard, no matter how happy or hard-luck they might be. And if there’s anything that Ryan Bingham does well, he knows how to enrapture people with his words.

On his sophomore project, Roadhouse Sun, Bingham follows up the well-received debut that was Mescalito with twelve songs that immediately call to mind a West Texas troubadour that has spent the bulk of his long life carving out a hard-scrabble existence as a cowboy or oilman. The twist here is that, while Bingham might be just twenty-eight years old, his escapades as the son and grandson of oilmen, not to mention his time as a journeyman bull rider, puts him almost on par with the likes of Joe Ely, Robert Earl Keen, and other men who are far more than twice his age. These songs, while being the type of raucous country rock best reserved for dingy honky-tonks, bespeak of a man who’s already done his fair share of hard living and who wants to sing heartfelt lyrics that neither glamorize nor mythologize that time.

There’s a healthy portion of The Boss, Ryan Adams, and Uncle Tupelo that comes up in these proletarian, son-of-the-earth songs, but what gives Bingham’s sound fresh life is that modifiers like “alt-,” “Texas,” or “outlaw” really aren’t necessary. This is country music of the Hank Williams variety, as strong guitars (complete with slide work and soaring leads), plinking pianos, and the occasional mandolin is matched well wit Bingham’s own gritty, wholly unpolished voice. While there is quality nostalgia at play here, these are not tear-in-your-beer weepers – this is bottle-raising, sing-along music that seeks to bring together all of the bar patrons into one unified voice.

Moreover, Roadhouse Sun is filled with solid dance-floor friendly country, but the kind that makes you think as your feet shuffle across the sawdust. Powerful country-rock comes to the fore on “Day Is Done,” “Endless Ways,” and “Change Is” as Bingham discusses contemporary politics and life on the road. There are also excellent two-step cuts like “Tell My Mother I Miss Her So” and “Roadhouse Blues” that reminisce over both the memories and difficult decisions made throughout his journeys. Rounding it out are “Bluebird,” “Rollin Highway Blues,” and “Wishing Well,” the kind of deeply emotional ballads that would actually compel a man to ask his date/girlfriend/wife to slow-dance.

There isn’t a single track here that can be dismissed as sub-par or weaker than the others. Bingham is a strong storyteller who desires to bring the listener out on the back roads of West Texas for a wild ride, a good time, and the opportunity to live free so you can do it all over again. Roadhouse Sun is most assuredly a record made by a singer-songwriter who has spent a great deal of time cutting his teeth pleasing a wide swath of friendly drunks in a host of dark and dirty saloons.