From the first, Willie Nile has welded messages of compelling moral force onto high-impact, stripped-down rock and roll. “The Great Yellow Light,” his 21st album, may be his most powerful, passionate and compassionate collection.
Willie Nile has rocked at the highest international-star levels since 1980 when his debut album hit, backed by Patti Smith’s band. Within weeks, the Buffalo-born but very New York City rocker was opening shows for The Who, by Pete Townshend’s request, drawn by Nile’s irresistible amalgam of musical and moral force. The next May, Nile played UAlbany’s freebie MayFest on campus, singing most of that first album, plus “Radiation,” a blistering attack on deadly corporate nuclear carelessness that may have cost him that first record deal.
Some of his power comes from sheer sonic muscle: chainsaw guitars over insistent drumbeats. But most of it is simply him: a yearning or declamatory voice exerting the moral force of fiery conviction. He means what he sings, at a bone-deep level.
Since his 1980 area debut, Nile has played everywhere hereabouts, from cozy clubs to SPAC’s wide stage. Opening solo for the Roches at UAlbany’s Page Hall in a band-less period between record deals, he went on without an introduction and slew the place, prompting a fan to holler, “Who ARE you?” By now, especially after many shows at WAMC’s (sadly, soon to close) The Linda, everybody knows.
Willie Nile at The Linda. Michael Hochanadel photo
Now, when those whom Nobel Prize-winning economist/columnist Paul Krugman calls “sadistic zombies” in a befouled White House attack and threaten musicians Bruce Springsteen, Taylor Swift and Beyonce, we need Nile’s new album of truth, of free expression from a brave moral conscience.
Old friends, Nile and Springsteen sing on each other’s shows, and they show more courage than a passive Capitol-full of Congressional cowards, and cowed, over-cautious corporate media.
Play this one loud; it’s tuneful enough to sing along, righteous enough to inspire.
“Wild Wild World” kicks off “The Yellow Light” with a list of troubles Nile hopefully transmutes into a rousing call to action. Nile has said it’s “a call out to our better angels.” He has explained, “Even though the history of America is riddled with pain and injustice and the divisions between us are greater than ever, I refuse to give in. I know we can do better than this.”
Next, in “We Are, We Are,” he offers a consoling assurance that we indeed can do better: “They can’t stop us any more.” Later, “Wake Up America” urges courage in the fight with those Krugman calls “sadistic zombies.”
Even the love songs proclaim strength and hope. In “Electrify Me,” Nile calls for mutual inspiration and energy, not just with a lover, but also across his community. The title track romances a powerful woman “with wonder in her eyes and thunder in her heart.” A few tracks later, the heartfelt slow ballad “Fall on Me” offers an all-purpose helping hand.
Before the calls to action that close the album comes that lovesong respite, plus the pipes-spiced “An Irish Lullabye” and the autobiographical “Tryin’ to Make a Living in the USA” – a fun-rocking, rollicking knock on the music business.
Then Nile lets his indignation rev up again in the call-to-action “Wake Up America,” insisting that we MUST do better. In the stately waltz-time album-closer “Washington’s Day,” Nile inspires with the invitation to be, and work, together.
The credits list impressive guests swirling around Nile’s band of Johnny Pisano, bass; Jon Weber, drums; and Jimi Bones, guitar. Steve Earle (at Universal Preservation Hall this Thursday, June 5) and Paul Brady guest at the mic, Rob Hyman and Eric Bazilian (the Hooters, for whom he opened recently), Larry Kirwan, Fred Parcells and Chris Byrne (Black 47) and Waddy Wachtel (every southern Cali rocker) and David Mansfield (Rolling Thunder Revue) play simple parts. Nile’s longtime producer Stewart Lerman once again achieves a honed, high-energy primal rock sound that relies mostly on guitar power although Nile plays piano some, as on “What Color Is Love.”
All this skill is focused in fine-tuned unity behind a small man with a giant message of alarm balanced with hope in action. The music rocks to exhilarating effect, mostly, but with quieter interludes, notably “Irish,” to catch our breath. Nile’s voice croons quietly or rises in rousing calls to action; compelling and inviting, either way.
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