Mando Saenz' Studebaker 10 Years Later

Before I begin, I’m going to offer a disclaimer.  During the writing and recording of Studebaker, I spent a lot of time with Mando.  I first met him when he came to Louisville with my friend Clark Paterson and they were sharing a band that consisted of Steve Bowman and Brynn Davies.  They stayed at my house that weekend and over the course of the next six months or so, I would book shows for Mando, mostly at the Third Street Dive, and I would either open the show or run sound for him (or both), he would stay at my house and he became a friend to my family.

So yes, on one hand, I knew how great this record was going to be because I’d already heard half of it quite a bit.  But on the other hand, I couldn’t believe how good it was.  Because it was, and still is, one of my favorite singer-songwriter albums, from front to back. 

While those in the know appreciate Mando, he’s criminally under-appreciated by the country and rock music world as whole.  He’s on Carnival.  He’s written with and for Miranda Lambert, Lee Ann Womack and Glen Phillips to name only three.  He should be mentioned in the same breath as those artists. 

The album opens with, “She coulda made a river, but she had to make rain.”  A co-write with friend and frequent collaborator, Kim Richey, “Breakaway Speed” is chock full of poetic lines that any songwriter wishes they’d thought of, because there are multiple lines that are so great, you could write another song from them.  Mando and Kim sound great together and her voice supports the melancholy feel of remembering a love gone.

“Battle Scar” and “Pocket Change” are two songs I have clear memories of Mando playing.  I loved “Pocket Change” and I would always ask him to play it, but I could never remember the name.  I’d say, “Mando, dude, play ‘Studebaker’ tonight.”  And he’d laugh and say, “I will, but the song’s called ‘Pocket Change.’” Hearing “Pocket Change” with the sublime guitar work sliding in and out of Mando’s acoustic playing and the chunky, dirty Telecaster that adds weight and grit to the song, the album version floored me when I first heard it.  Just a great bar room rocker that just begs for a sing-a-long, “If you’re ever gonna leave me!”

“Nobody” is a song I wish I’d had to listen to when I was younger and single.  In my early twenties, living in Boyle Heights, across the river from Downtown Los Angeles, I’d go out on every Saturday night to Hotel Café or wherever, to see live music.  On Sunday morning, I’d wake up alone, brew some coffee and go sit on my couch for an hour or so.  I didn’t own a TV, I’d just listen to Hank Williams, Blood on the Tracks, Heartbreaker, or some somber record trying to make sense of my life.  The feel of “Nobody” really encapsulates the loneliness of that time for me.

If you ask me what my favorite song on the record is, I’ll probably give you a different answer every time, but I have to admit I might say “Colorado” about half the time.  And that’s not just because that’s now where I live.  It’s really, really difficult to write a story song, much less one that is set in another time, but Mando nails it here. 

Now I haven’t shot a man since eighty-five

Now I haven’t shot a man since eighty-five

I shot him from the buckle on his boot

To the sweat on his front tooth

To his straw hat with nothing left inside

There’s a lot that makes this album great.  Incredible lyrics.  Well-arranged and well-written music.  Great musical performances.  Great production by Mark Nevers.  And Mando has a great voice.

While I personally think this record should have shot him to super-stardom, I think the two reasons it didn’t are two of the things I love about it the most.  One, the songs are all very melodic, it’s easy to sing along in your car, in fact I think it’s impossible to not want to sing along, but they’re too developed.  By that I mean, the lyrics are intelligent and there’s no party anthem or over-the-top power ballad and, especially in country music, you need one of those in order to break through the machine.  And two, while Mando has one of the best voices I’ve ever heard, and he is astonishingly emotive, he’s not loud or a showboater.  He serves the song.  

Think about our culture, we bemoan the low character of our political candidates, but we keep electing low character people because they’re loud and obnoxious and get people’s emotions riled up.  We’re the same way with our entertainers.  We like big action movies, obnoxious comedians and we think the greatest singers are the ones who are always showing us their voices like Christina Aguilera.  Yes, she can sing, but I’d prefer to listen to Alison Krauss who is every bit as talented without having to always remind you that she is.  Alison Krauss puts tears in my eyes by the second line of “When You Say Nothing at All”, long before she puts that much oxygen into her notes. Mando is not, personally or musically, a bombastic character. There’s a lot to the man and his music, but you have to listen to find out because he is not going to beat you into submission. I promise you, it’s worth slowing down and listening.

I’m biased, I admit it.  But bias never turns into passion for me.  Bias plus substance does.  Don’t listen to me, listen to the record and decide for yourself.  I think if you do, you’ll agree with me that this is one of the most over-looked records of the past decade, if not longer.