"Folk-n-Roller" an album by Bill Bachmann - Written by Guest Blogger and Reporter Jack Coraggio

Hello followers! I recently recieved a CD in the Litchfield County Times mail bag and while I would have loved to write a blog about it, I thought my fellow reporter Jack Coraggio would be better suited given his eclectic tastes in music. - Daniela

Mr. Coraggio covers the towns of Washington, Roxbury and Bridgewater each week, along with other towns in the region.

By Jack Coraggio

Folk rock is for The Byrds. Folk n’ roll is for Bill Bachmann.

Don’t know the difference? Well, Mr. Bachmann attempts to distinguish the two, though with a relatively inexact explanation, on his new album, the aptly titled “Folk-n-Roller.”

According to the acoustic minstrel of witticism, his is a style that allows for one to be “Crosby with no Stills,” or “Jagger with no pills.” And for that matter, you can “wear your Blue Suede Shoes, and a chip on your shoulder; you can still play the blues, when you’re a Folk-n-Roller.”

Sounds like fun, but I still can’t rightly gauge the difference, other than to note that the newfangled genre has means that are anything but average.

Get it, the means aren’t average. Indeed it is a pun, kind of like folk rock being for The Byrds. I’m not being cute, I’m illustrating one of the key elements of folk ’n’ roll. Judging by the album, clever wit and wordplay is the subtext that characterizes Mr. Bachmann’s 2011 effort.

Like the second track, “The New Hip Song,” a tune that isn’t all that new or all that hip. It’s a parody of the R&B standard “Fever,” made famous by Peggy Lee in 1958, but its lyrics describe in his irreverent storytelling style the tale of his hip replacement. 

“Well a knife crime and a lifetime later; What’s left now knows what’s right from what’s wrong; I’ve got some bones to pick with my creator; But for now I’ve got this new hip song. He cut my femur.”

Really, its soulful melody may make it the only song on the 14-track compilation where this one-man band (Mr. Bachmann is vocals, acoustic guitar, electric guitar, bass, drums, piano, harmonica, mandolin, violin and synthesizer) seeks a musical style undermining of the prototypical hollowed-out Americana folk sound.

There’s “D.C. Blues,” a bipartisan harpooning of American presidents that gives a history lesson far more illuminating than Billy Joel’s 20th-century inventory he called, “We Didn’t Start the Fire.”

“Then Clinton’s on the Hill, perfecting his craft; With Flowers on his lap and an intern on his staff.”

Anyone familiar with 50 Cent’s ridiculous attempt at sexual intimation, “Candy Shop,” knows that the art of innuendo is a lost one. It’s nice to hear somebody making an attempt to revive it.

One more thing, and to this, Mr. Bachmann, I can relate. On the track “B-A-C-H-M-A-N-N,” you detail the pain of having a commonly misspelled name. Maybe people confuse you with Randy Bachman of the classic rock radio staple Bachman Turner Overdrive. But he only has one “N.”

“Please don’t leave, N-dure the sound; When I say two N’s, just write the dang things down.”

Perhaps I’ll write a folk n’ roll song, “C-O-R-A-G-G-I-O.”

“I beg you to be brave, and so I ask you please; Its Italian for courage, spelled one R and two G’s.”

For more, check out www.billbachmannmusic.com.