Russell enthrals Arden crowd

Stages across the country are littered with artists wailing over broken hearts and failed relationships. Then along comes Tom Russell with his lone guitar, singing about the songs that make America bleed. All of a sudden time stops and the other voices recede into the background.

Singing a mix of folk, Tex-Mex and cowboy country, the El Paso-based singer/songwriter exposes the warts and festering wounds of his country. His is the voice of the voiceless blue-collar masses, speaking with a gritty honesty that carries tremendous power.

In a relaxed two-set performance at the Arden Theatre last Friday, Russell borrowed from his 2009 album Blood and Candle Smoke, a series of his own life experiences — some poignant, others visceral. And for good measure he threw in a few of his biggies such as Navaho Rug, the 1987 monster hit popularized by close friend Ian Tyson.

What is such a wonderful antidote to the mainstream pap that passes for music today is that Russell observes, questions, probes and even inflames. Lauded as one of the premiere songwriters and folk troubadours of this century, he is unafraid to jab at stupid political decisions and societal failures. But there is also tenderness, a humble compassion that captures fragments of both loss and beauty in our lives.

Dressed in a natty suit, Russell strolled onto the stage backed by first class blues picker Thad Beckman and, without introduction, launched into East of Woodstock, West of Vietnam, a tune that recalls his time spent teaching in Africa during the Biafran War. Without any patter, he quickly followed with Mississippi River Running Backwards, a commentary on the great change that has come over America.

His voice has a ragged, kind of raspy lived-in quality, definitely not the smooth Bublé seducing type. But by the end of the first two songs, I was blown away by the bold brilliance of his lyrics, each line a fresh layer of imagery that wove a spellbinding story.

Russell’s rebellion was reflected in Who’s Gonna Build Your Wall?, a sharp dig at the Bush administration for building an 800-foot wall on the Texas-Mexico border to keep out “illegals.”

Equating it to the Berlin Wall, he added, “I sang it on the David Letterman Show and got a lot of hate mail.” Pause. “None of it from Canada though.” A roar of laugher follows.

Although Russell admitted to not being particularly religious, his favourite song on Blood and Candle Smoke is the beautifully moving Guadeloupe, a tender, humble ballad that contrasts the spirit and strong faith of Mexico’s Indians with the lack of pilgrim hope north of the border.

Crosses of San Carlos was a touching story of a road outside San Carlos near Apache land marked with crosses of death and he asks, “Where are we going?”

Two songs that laud women are Nina Simone, a sad, almost reflective tune where he first discovered the voice of the late soul singer playing at a Mexican bar. The second number was a tribute to his wife, Finding You. Almost as much fun was the story he told of getting married in a $50 Nevada Chapel with Ian Tyson as best man.

Not only is Russell a completely mesmerizing songwriter, but he is also a down-to-earth charming man who neatly holds the audience in the palm of his hand.

His profound love and compassion for the people of Texas and Mexico was starkly obvious. We only saw a snapshot of his life, but for the sold-out house of fans delivering a standing ovation, it was more than enough.