94. Walkabouts, "Train to Mercy" (1991)

(listen)

From about 1988 to about 1993, the Walkabouts were my favorite live act. I got out to see them every chance I could, which sometimes was as often as every month, a real treat. They were basically the red-headed stepchild on the Sub Pop roster of the time (a roster now full of red-headed stepchildren, but more famous at the time for Soundgarden, Mudhoney, and Nirvana); the PR machine cavalierly labeled the Walkabouts as "hippies with big amps." That label could serve as well retroactively for Country Joe & the Fish, Quicksilver Messenger Service, Jefferson Airplane, and the Grateful Dead, but point taken. The music of the Walkabouts was rumbling and loud, but well leavened with folk-rock currencies. You can hear the drift for yourself on "Train to Mercy." I hope you can also hear how effectively it could close a show, which is how they used it for several years. It's big enough to fill arenas, and I feel privileged to have been able to witness it in tiny clubs, and numerous times. The nine and a half minutes that this lasts effectively takes me back to those halcyon days, and it's even hard sometimes to resist the temptation to get to my feet and sway. How Brian Eno, who plays synthesizer and sings, came to be involved in it remains something of a mystery, though the song fits his sensibilities well and you can certainly hear his impact. Chris Eckman, one of the band's principals with partner Carla Torgerson, has written of Eno's participation, "He happened by the studio that night, almost by chance and recorded some tracks only after we got him drunk." That still doesn't answer the question of how Brian Eno "happened by" a Seattle studio one night, but whatever. Worked out well for all.