Ray Mason Band: Three Dollar Man

Imagine NRBQ being fronted by Neil Young and you’ve got yourself a good idea of the sort of musical fun The Ray Mason Band delivers. This eclectic band has been together and touring for some 20 odd years (but who’s counting), releasing “official” albums since 1994 (not counting the six unofficial cassette releases between 1983-1990) and yet shamefully they still remain a somewhat guarded secret to the general public. Perhaps Three Dollar Man can help to change that somewhat.

Somerville, Massachusetts’ Ray Mason and his signature 1965 Silvertone head a quartet that includes guitarist Tom Shea, bassist Stephen Desaulniers and drummer Frank Marsh. For this CD, a fifth in the person of Jim Weeks contributes keyboards, dobro and some acoustic guitar as well.

Averaging over 140 shows a year, The Ray Mason Band has opened for a veritable list of musical all-stars including The Band, NRBQ, Marshall Crenshaw, Graham Parker, Robbie Fulks, Yo La Tengo, They Might Be Giants, Steve Forbert, Nils Lofgren, Chris Whitley, Nils Lofgren, Freedy Johnston, Joan Osborne, Warren Zevon, Alejandro Escovedo, Joan Jett, Blue Mountain, The Bottle Rockets, Junior Brown and others too numerous to mention here.

On this, his seventh official release (again, who’s counting), Mason puts together a very winning collection with a bunch of bouncy songs that veer from bar rock to jangle pop to alt country and even some hints of jazz. Honestly, there are no bad songs here — but purists might take issue with the short length of the overall CD (the ten songs here clock in at a mere 27:03).

A little taste of good-time Brit pop can be found in the bouncy opener “Blessing the Girl” and its guitar hook. Here is Mason at his simple best, never taking himself too seriously and able to translate that into a good time musically. His lyrics relate: “I feel self-conscious every night / Hide the mirror, lose that fight / dark streaks you know who / draw the curtain on my petting zoo / I’m just blessing my girl to send her off to ruin Ohio.”

Just when I thought that Anton Barbeau’s song to a table was novel, Mason proves me wrong. His upbeat “Footrest” is an ode to more than just furniture, a friend who brought him on holiday: “Footrest so true, Footrest I’m always on you / Footrest, now I’m so taken and there’s a card that I gotta send.”

The title track lets the group shift into new clothes as a jazzy soulful combo, courtesy of some fine organ work by Weeks. Again the vocals recall Neil Young, this time doing a wistful scolding of an ex-lover about her new squeeze: “You’re making a bet on the three dollar man, and you don’t even know his name / You’ve been getting all set for this three dollar man while listening to Coltrane.”

It’s back to good times with the tremendously catchy “Reverb and a Zip Code” with a nice organ riff and hot stepping bass to convey that it’s all you need in life (five numbers and a sound). Yet perhaps the most infectious tune here is “Newsboy’s Toss,” which strives to put relationships into perspective, reminding us among other things that is it’s a lonely world and that miracles pass us by like the newsboy’s toss: “Some people spend years trying to find, some people spend years searching for, some people spend years trying to find what we’re throwing away.”

The eerie atmospheric “Ear For Rain” talks about a clueless man who is missing both his thumbs, yet blessed with the unusual singular aptitude of having an “ear for rain.”

The sense of humor is back in play with “I’ve Got a Good Dentist”, a homage to the rock masochist returning from the road to the pleasures of his favorite D.D.S.: “Say what you want about me / say what you will about that drill / no gas or Novocain / extractions they give me a thrill.”

“You’ll Never Play Here Again” is a countrified two-step lament of a frustrated club owner who lays down the law to a no-draw, only-trouble act. “Sid Fargus” is the musical story of the valiant ex-garment district shyster who sells what he can when he can.

“Someone I Can’t Get Over” is a wonderful different flavor for Mason and company, something more in the realm of Steely Dan or solo Walter Becker. Again, there is a jazzy feel bubbling beneath, as we hear about true longing: “Honesty so painfully/ with telling eyes, all lies aside / You’re someone I can’t get over / but you’re someone I can’t get.”

This is a great collection of catchy and unpretentious fun rock from a veteran who knows how to leave you wanting more. The Ray Mason Band plays hard, plays often and plays well — and Three Dollar Man captures that happy spirit. Ray Mason just keeps getting better; here’s hoping soon that also translates into better known.