Gurf Morlix: Eatin’ at Me

Even with nine solo albums to his credit – all released since the year 2000 – Gurf Morlix is still mostly known strictly as a sideman to the stars. Of course, that’s not surprising; as both a producer and session player, his credits grace works by such stellar luminaries as Lucinda Williams, Mary Gauthier, Ian McLagan, Ray Wylie Hubbard, and Slaid Cleaves among the many. If Morlix was a professional athlete, he’d likely be regularly recognized as an MVP; after all, his ability to multitask on guitar, bass, drums, banjo, harmonica, dobro, pedal steel and mandolin has made him an invaluable part of many an artist’s instrumental arsenal. It’s little wonder that in 2009, he was recognized by the Americana Music Association as their coveted Instrumentalist of the Year for 2009. Considering the competition, that’s an impressive honor.

Given those credentials and the esteem he’s earned from both colleagues and contemporaries, it would only seem natural that Morlix’s individual output would offer a greater degree of spark and spirit, not to mention its own A-level list of contributors. However that’s rarely the case, given that Morlix isn’t exactly prone to show any great degree of exuberance or exhilaration. And yet while his latest offering, the troublingly titled Eatin’ at Me finds Morlix maintaining a low key approach at the outset, he does manage to up the energy level as the set wears on. The hushed, hard luck tale “Dirty Old Buffalo” (spoiler alert: denizens of upstate New York may want to clear their throats and prepare to swallow their pride) and the dark despondent strains of “Grab the Wheel” create a somber initial impression, However, that’s soon changed by the songs that follow. The swoon, sway and stomp that echoes throughout “Elephant’s Graveyard” signals the first transition, and aside from the solitary sounds of “Blue Smoke” and “50 Years”, Morlix makes a point of amping things up on the backside. Nowhere is that more evident than in the swagger he affects on “The Dog I Am” and the jaunty lope that accelerates the pace on “Dinah”.

Still, Eatin’ at Me could hardly be considered anything close to a star turn. Grumbly, disheartened and petulant, these soundscapes cast a cloud over the album as a whole. It’s like Morlix is steering the sound through the side roads and avoiding any main thoroughfares as if to avoid notice. It’s an elusive tack to be sure, and in many ways, it’s a bit bewildering as well. After all, at this point in his career, Morlix might have been better advised to take the opportunity to shore up his credence and slide into the spotlight.

So why the seeming obsession with such a shadowy approach? Maybe it has to do with a desire to remain under the radar. Besides, when you’re in this much demand, modesty and humility are not only admirable traits but also the means to deflect attention. Ultimately, Eatin’ at Me makes it clear that Morlix’s musicianship says it all.