If anything’s predictable about the work of Afton Wolfe it’s the unpredictability. He has such a wide range of references and influences that you never know what’s around the next corner. The first surprise about ‘The Harvest’ is that there are no Afton Wolfe originals. The second surprise is that all of the songs are written by his father-in-law L.H. Halliburton so the album’s all about performance and interpretation of someone else’s songs, bringing all of his influences into play. Afton’s gravelly baritone serves all seven songs on this project perfectly the slightly sinister ‘Hello, Mr. Wolf’ – more about that later.

The album opens with ‘The Harvest’ which bounces along with hints of Van Morrison’s ‘Bright Side of the Road’ to put forward the idea that the year should begin in the fall with the harvest, rather than in spring with the sowing. ‘New Orleans Going Down’ has an unsurprising Dr John feel with the full band (including piano, of course). The vocal delivery echoes the rising of the flood water, becoming more impassioned with each chorus as the water levels become more dangerous. The next two songs get to the heart of Afton Wolfe; if you threw the DNA of Bob Seger and Tom Waits in a blender, you would get something close to Afton Wolfe vocally and stylistically.

The gospel-tinged ‘Lost Prayers’ with piano and fiddle fills evokes the classic mid-tempo Seger song, while ‘Hello, Mr. Wolf’ with its gruff spoken lyric and its off-kilter sparse arrangement  and comparison of the wolf with human animals echoes Tom Waits at his most raw. The next two songs both look back in terms of style. ‘Till the River No Longer Flows’, with its message of persistence in the face of adversity has a big Southern rock sound in the good old Lynyrd Skynyrd style, including the obligatory extended guitar solo to the finish. ‘Mississippi’ has Afton exploring his soul/Stax roots with horns and piano triplets as he delivers L.H. Halliburton’s message to the state that mirrors Neil Young’s seventies message to Alabama. The album closes with the very lo-fi ‘Here to Stay’ exploring loneliness over a stuttering, reverbed piano backing saturated with tape hiss. It’s very evocative, bordering on disturbing.

‘The Harvest’ is an interesting project. Afton Wolfe doesn’t shy away from covers and interpretations, but covering seven songs by the same writer is a different challenge altogether and he absolutely aces it with his usual variety of styles and distinctive vocal delivery. Whatever Afton Wolfe tackles, you know it’s going to be interesting.

‘The Harvest’ is out now on Grandiflora Records.

Here’s the official video for ‘Lost Prayers’:

EP or mini album? My money would be on extended EP, but the way music’s distributed and consumed these days, it’s a moot point. Anyhow, Afton Wolfe has pulled together five songs, four of which have been released previously in a digital format and one new piece, ‘Cry’, which was written in response to a close friend’s personal tragedy.

Afton Wolfe is one of those rare artists that sound equally at home in three musical styles with similar roots; blues, soul and country and ‘Twenty-Three’ has references to all of these styles across its five tracks. And you couldn’t truly represent without having a triple-time song; ‘The Moon Is Going Down’ is a slow waltz with a very sparse arrangement and some lovely sax fills underpinning a gravelly vocal. The piano part of ‘Truck Drivin’ Man’ hints at The Doors with a densely-packed arrangement and a counterpoint lead vocal late in the song, while ‘So Purple’ is driven along by a deep bass guitar creating a Southern groove as Afton tells a story of incompatibility using imagery from mixing coloured lights or pigments – red and blue are almost at opposite ends of the spectrum (cold and warm), but they combine to create purple, and who wouldn’t want to be purple? ‘Late Nite Radio’ has a slow country feel with several tempo changes (up and down) to represent the progress of the journey and the busy finale, going out on a lonesome saxophone.

‘Cry’, which is the only entirely new song featured here, is a tour de force. The song is in the classic Stax/Atlantic Southern soul style (you can imagine Otis Redding or Bill Withers wrapping their vocal cords around this one). It’s a powerful slow soul ballad punctuated by Stax-style brass that allows Afton to demonstrate a powerful raw vocal delivery that conveys a sense a deeply felt sense of loss. It’s classic old soul.

The five songs on ‘Twenty-Three’ (I’m not getting into the mystical stuff around the title) are a great demonstration of the breadth of Afton Wolfe’s songwriting and vocal talents. You should give it a listen, and while you’re at it, check out his debut from two years ago, ‘Kings for Sale’. While you’re here, have a look at the video for the incredibly evocative ‘Late Nite Radio’:

We reviewed Afton Wolfe’s debut solo album In June 2021 and Allan loved it. “Kings for Sale” covered a wide range of styles and emotions and was one of those pieces that send you to your search engine to seek out more information about the themes covered in the songs. Afton has kindly agreed to share his favourite covers from his shows this year. As you would expect, it’s an interesting list.

2021 has been such a transformative year for me personally, and like so many other folks like me who live to write and perform the Language, it was a chance to get back on stage and make that Connection with people – on and off stage – that I covet so. I write (or discover) songs primarily, and I know that many of my sistren and brethren have different opinions about playing covers, but I personally love playing songs that mean a lot to me and have influenced my search for the Magic Connection of Music. I try to keep it to one or two cover songs per performance, and I don’t typically play standards or wedding songs like Mustang Sally or Margaritaville (though those are both wonderful songs), but I have no reservations about playing others’ songs in general. Like Dylan said, “I’m a song and dance man.” So, for my High Five, I wanted to highlight a few performances of songs I didn’t write (or discover) that were a part of this special year. These are in chronological order I think.

Please Don’t Let Me Be Misunderstood – June 11 – The Lounge at the City Winery, Nashville, Tennessee.

This song, written by Bennie Benjamin, Horace Ott and Sol Marcus for the great Nina Simone, but popularized shortly after by The Animals, is one of the greatest songs ever written – universal lyrical theme, fantastic melodic interplay, and raw, bluesy foundation. I fell in love with Elvis Costello’s version first, before ever hearing Nina Simone’s. My friends and I performed this on the night of the release of my record Kings For Sale. It was a magical night, and this song was one of my favorite moments of the night. The version we ended up with had elements of Nina, Elvis and the Animals, but we really just let the song guide us.

I’m just a soul whose intentions are good.

Something’s On Your Mind – July 19 – The Basement, Nashville, Tennessee

Written by Dino Valenti, this beautiful song was originally recorded by one of my favorite vocalists, the great Karen Dalton. It is also a favorite of my friends that I play music with, and one day, while driving my dear friend and fantastic violinist Rebecca Weiner Tompkins to a rehearsal, it was playing in the car, and we decided that we should perform it. My voice doesn’t sound anything like Ms. Dalton’s ghostly wail, so we thought it would make a unique performance. I think it did.

I’ve seen the writing on the wall.

Who cannot maintain will always fall.

Come On Up to The House – September 22 – Brooklyn Bowl, Nashville

You may be aware of this already – I don’t go out of my way to keep it secret – but I’m a pretty big Tom Waits fan. My voice, strangely enough, was actually shredded up by being in a metal band in my teens before ever hearing Mr. Waits’ music, but I admittedly have since used said voice to cover Mr. Wait’s Music and my pursuit of accuracy has not done my nodules any favors. In any event, this was a really fun time, because it was an invitation from my friends Cordovas, who are at the same time some of the coolest, nicest, most generous and sweet dudes and also one of the best live bands you’ll ever be fortunate enough to see, if and when you do. They asked me to come join them for their AmericanaFest pre-party at the Brooklyn and Joe hand picked this song for me to sing with them. I eagerly and gratefully accepted, and I predictably killed.

Come down off the cross;

we can use the wood.

Cure For Pain – 320 Fifth – October 2 – Laurel, Mississippi

Morphine is objectively the greatest band that’s ever been; I actually wrote a paper about it in a philosophy class in undergrad. But the crux of my objective argument comes down to how hard it is to cover a Morphine song well, considering how unique their entire project was. So, when I went on a little tour this fall, I figured I’d give this song a try, because I had great musicians with me that I knew could pull it off. It didn’t sound like Morphine, but I also believe that it’s hard (if not impossible) to play a great song too poorly.

I propose a toast to my self control.

See it crawling helpless on the floor.

Someday, there’ll be a cure for pain.That’s the day I throw my drugs away.

Acadian Driftwood – Basement East – East Nashville, Tennessee

A tradition in Nashville for the last several years has been The Last Waltz tribute show, where the coolest folks in Nashville come together and pay tribute to one of the greatest concerts in music history. This was my first time being a part of it, and it was an honor. The Band was a huge influence on me growing up, and The Last Waltz the movie is one of my favorite films ever. I sang half of Acadian Driftwood, sharing lyrical duties with the fantastic Van Darien, as a part of the great Jon Latham’s band The Lifers. I have no problem admitting that pretending to be a Canadian for one song, while an honorary member of the Lifers, though, is the height of my own pretension, as far as I can remember. Oh well. I had a blast.

This isn’t my turn; this ain’t my season.

Can’t think of one good reason to remain.