Review: 'Willie Nile Uncovered' Taps a Wide Array of Artists to Pay Tribute to an Underheralded New York Treasure
Every so often you'll hear a musician described as “your favorite artist's favorite artist.” This usually denotes a musician who, despite being lauded by some of the industry's titans, has inexplicably remained a cult favorite without breaking fully into the mainstream. It's hard to think of any artist who fits that description more than Willie Nile. The man who is sometimes described as the Poet Laureate of Greenwich Village counts among his fans and admirers the likes of Bruce Springsteen, Bono, Little Steven Van Zandt, Lucinda Williams, and Richard Thompson. So, when a two-disc tribute album was announced for Nile, titled Willie Nile Uncovered, many probably expected an all-star cavalcade of Hall of Famers whose purpose was to raise Nile's notoriety in the community at large. Instead, Willie Nile Uncovered is a mix of well-known, if hardly household, names, but moreso a group of either fellow long-time club troubadours or young and hungry artists.
The formula works well for the album, with many of the highlights coming from the lesser known artists. One example is “Hell Yeah.” Opening the album's more rock-oriented first disc, it features Emily Duff. It's no surprise to anyone who is familiar with Duff's work that she's a highlight of the project. If there is any artist on the disc who compares most closely to Nile, it's Duff. A fellow New Yorker, both Duff and Nile embody a kind of punk-meets-folk style of blue collar roots rock that perfectly meshes with the grittier side of New York City. Duff brings a touch of Muscle Shoals and just a bit of Memphis to “Hell Yeah,” but at its core, she sounds like a mix of Nile, the punk-rock snarl of Joan Jett, and the devil-may-care free spiritedness of Wanda Jackson.
In some cases, the less-known artists benefit greatly from getting some of Nile's best songs. One of these is another album standout, Iridesense's Cheap Trick-esque interpretation of “History 101.” It's my personal favorite Willie Nile song, lyrically the one that tips its hand most fully to the satirical absurdism of John Prine's “Jesus, The Missing Years” (not coincidentally a favorite of mine among the Prine catalogue). Full of historical references melded with literary, folk story, and rock and roll cats, leading Abraham Lincoln and Long Tall Sally to invent rock and roll, only for Joan of Arc to serenade God with an electric guitar before being burned at the stake.
XL Kings also make the most of a Nile favorite, “That's the Reason.” The song in its original form was a tribute to early rock and roll, both in its 45 friendly brevity (2:30) and its jangly guitars and sing-along chorus. XL Kings push this tribute to 11, going into full Buddy Holly cover band mode, bringing fun-loving pop in heaping helpings. Fellow New York road warriors Leland Sundries bring a bit of, no surprise, Bo Diddly blues to the B.B. King meets The Band fan favorite “The Day I Saw Bo Diddly in Washington Square.”
That isn't to say the veterans don't get their moment. The album's lone Rock and Roll Hall of Famer, E Street Band guitarist Nils Lofgren, reminds everyone just how timeless Nile's social commentary songs are as, while written across a wide swath of Nile's 40 year career, they all work well as a commentary on the current inhabitant of the White House. “All God's Children” is a rock and roll gospel anthem, made even bigger here with a full choir backing up Lofgren's signature drawl and guitar licks. In this case, it came from Nile's sublime 2018 album Children of Paradise, so very well could have been about our current Commode in Chief. But beyond that, it's a touching tribute to the poor and forgotten minors, the voiceless victims of political infighting. Lofgren throws all he has to give into lines like “sing for the the nameless ones, hungry and downhearted. Sing for the peacemakers to finish what they've started.”
There are too many highlights on this album to feature them all without this becoming a 2000 word album review, so I'll keep it short by pointing out some other standouts. Jazz-folk artist Jen Chapin brings a serenity to “The Crossing.” Veteran rocker Elliott Murphy puts an arthouse film soundtrack spin on “Les Champs Elysses.” Bongos frontman Richard Barone actually sounds a lot like Nile on his cover of Nile's love letter to his home, “Streets of New York.” And that just cracks the surface.
Would Willie Nile Uncovered have been a better album if these songs featured the all-star cast it probably could have pulled with little effort? It's impossible to know. It certainly would have been an album with a lot more publicity. But from interviews with Nile I've read and from my own few brief e-mail interactions with him myself, I think this might be the album he'd like more. What better way to pay tribute to one of rock and roll's great unheralded poets than with a set of songs by some of the nation's other unheralded poets? If Nile's career has been built on a small, but cultishly loyal, fanbase, why not try to build up a cult fanbase for others who have taken his songs to heart? The album is, after all, called Willie Nile Uncovered. In one interpretation, that could be ripping away the veil that hides Nile's 40 year history of whip-smart lyrical genius. In another, it could be interpreted as uncovering some artists who deserve more recognition, using the songs of Willie Nile as a gateway. In either interpretation, this album will be a delight for Willie Nile fans, and a decent primer for those who don't know him but are curious, although with the double album price tag, the browsers may want to utilize Spotify first. That's not something I ever recommend due to their terrible payout to artists. I do so here because I am that confident that a couple of spins of this album will lead to buys of Nile's catalogue, as well as a few from the featured artists.