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Every now and again, a performer comes along who defines a genre of music with staunch attention to tradition and expectations. It's best to avoid artists like that. Ray Charles' country recordings, Bob Dylan's use of an electric guitar at the Newport Folk Festival to a chorus of boos, the Beastie Boys' complete dissection and reinvention of hip-hop, Sloan's entire career; these are the type of changes that keep music interesting. Now Erik Schrody, aka Everlast, can be included among such proud dissidents, thanks to his new album, Whitey Ford Sings The Blues. Everlast has a fairly long resumé. He was a member of Ice-T's Rhyme Syndicate, put out a slickster-style solo album (Forever Everlasting), then went on to front House of Pain for a number of years until suffering a near fatal heart attack and staying underground for awhile, resurfacing as Whitey Ford. Everlast hasn't hung up his mike, or disassociated himself with hip-hop, he's just combining his "Neil Young influences with my Run DMC influences." There are beats, loops and scratches on the album mixed with fingerstyle acoustic guitar and Everlast's haunting baritone. Don't jump to a Beck comparison though, there is none of Beck's theatrics or conceptual quirks. Everlast is just more down to earth this time around. His album is blatant introspection, based on his aforementioned influences, as well as a strong element of Johnny Cash. A gentle mix of b-boy bravado and socially critical sensitivity make the confessional lyrics work. There are no House of Pain style references to sex or violence. Everlast doesn't claim to be a mad Irish thug anymore; even his references to living the proverbial high life are expressed with more a lamenting tone than tougher-than-you blunting. Whitey Ford Sings The Blues isn't the new standard by which Everlast will forever be judged. It seems unlikely his fresh alter ego will be singing the blues for years to come, which is understandable. Who wants to be blue forever?
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