As a former member of the Cabbage, Ga., band the Rock-A-Teens, and backed by an alt-country superstar band of sorts (featuring members of the Mekons/Waco Brothers and the Bottle Rockets), Kelly Hogan should have created a masterpiece of insurgent country in Beneath the Country Underdog. She should have--but she didn't.
Often sounding like a country-fried Natalie Merchant, Hogan has undeniable charisma that only causes the listener to bemoan the unexceptional nature of Beneath the Country Underdog. In general, the songs she performs sound as if they were recorded by the (insert genre)-by-numbers method that currently finds itself dominating much of contemporary music. Hogan obviously has talent but simply fails to deliver.
That said, Beneath the Country Underdog does house several exceptional tracks that, while not making up for the rest of the album, at least help to excuse it. The Stephin Merritt-penned "Papa was a Rodeo" is the dark testimonial of a childhood-scarred adult trying to fit into the world of love. Similarly, "Crackers Rule" probes the blacker ranges of the sonic and lyrical landscape but with a quiet swagger that instantly sets it apart from the pack ("when the drinks are spilling down your chin, you're in love with me again").
Unfortunately, aside from these two formidable tunes, Beneath the Country Underdog trails off into the oblivion that is mediocrity.
In terms of sound, Hogan has done her homework--perhaps a little too slavishly. For the majority of the album, she comes off as someone whose primary virtue is the incredible manner in which she is capable of aping Emmylou Harris. While in theory, this sounds like a reasonable recipe for a satisfying record, it ultimately causes Beneath the Country Underdog to be utterly forgettable ("you know, that album that sounds like...").
Actually, forgetability may be Beneath the Country Underdog's chief virtue--no one will recall this disc if Hogan makes a more spirited attempt next time around.
--Brian Gettler