Finally a strong argument (that Mr. Earle pardon me) against the scoffers of the idiom Country! Indeed difficult to defend a misunderstood and caricatured style of down home: the image of the lonesome cowboy singing through clenched teeth in a pair of tight jeans has - alas - still die hard! Question attitude precisely, Steve Earle is not really the archetypal redneck, as evidenced by its rocker assumed temperament: he tumbles in the 80s with a big mouth reputation and wake at the same time the industry purring Nashville. Despite a blip linked to overuse of opiates, he is back in 1995 with "Train A Comin '" but it is clearly "El Corazon" which marks the definitive rebirth of our man, confirming its ability to exceed the boundaries of the genre and of course the usual hustle codes. Here no stereotype or Hillbilly Honky Tonk adulterated, especially when any of the crosses on tour round the Supersuckers (fingers into the socket and perfect to support the chorus of "NYC"), Emmylou Harris or revivalists Del McCoury Bluegrass Band . Notice to English or to the needy, the soul of this album is to be found in his inspired texts, both in very incisive observation of American through ("Christmas In Washington") and an almost romantic in their sensitivity vast majority. It must also report the undeniable acme what the ultimate "Fort Worth Blues" in tribute to Townes Van Zandt: during the four-minute ballad, so sedentary road-song touched by grace, Earle s appropriates art and manner of his mentor and proves - if necessary - in addition to have guts, it also has heart. This is of El Corazon ...
