I definitely agree with the opening assessment of Westerberg's solo career after the phenomenal 'Mats albums. Not sure I can be convinced to buy two more Westerberg discs (though I have the first Grandpaboy, and it's his best thus far...), but maybe:
washingtonpost.com
Westerberg, in Stereo
As Grandpaboy and Himself, Indie Rocker Goes for 2
By Shannon Zimmerman
Special to The Washington Post
Sunday, November 2, 2003; Page N02
Grandpaboy could be the name of a potentially great comic strip character, a curmudgeonly little kid given to spastic rants about the way things were back in his day. In reality, it's the alias of Paul Westerberg, head honcho of the dearly departed Replacements and perpetrator of one surprisingly mediocre solo career.
Post-Mats (as fans affectionately dubbed the Minneapolis quartet), Westerberg has never matched the rough-hewed charm that powered such early-indie templates as the group's snotty debut, "Sorry Ma, Forgot to Take Out the Trash," or the mighty "Let It Be," a genuinely seminal album that helped push the '80s rock underground into the limelight. A series of listless CDs studded with the occasional crusty gem is the best he's been able to cough up.
Given that track record, Westerberg's tack under the Grandpaboy moniker is ingenious: He doesn't even try to compete with his former glory -- and the results are pretty glorious. On "Dead Man Shake," the second Grandpaboy long-player, the singer-guitarist traffics in ramshackle blues, tossing off sloppy-but-inspired foot-stompers such as "Take Out Some Insurance" and the hootenanny-worthy "Do Right in Your Eyes" with pure first-take tenacity. The album's best number, "No Matter What You Say," finds Westerberg stumbling his way through gorgeous, tube-amplified chord changes before uncorking a sinewy solo that could be B.B. King after a few Jell-O shots.
Formulaic? You bet. But thanks mainly to Westerberg's whiskey-besotted phrasing and obvious affinity for the style, his bluesy re-creations resonate like the real deal -- the album is no mere genre exercise. Indeed, the least convincing track here, "Vampires & Failures," is a pop-rock wheel-spinner that sounds suspiciously like the Replacements channeling "Emotional Rescue"-era Rolling Stones. Not a good idea.
You also have to question the wisdom of Westerberg issuing an "official" solo disc at the same time Grandpaboy is making the rounds. But even back in his Replacements heyday, Westerberg -- God bless him -- was never a marketplace maven. His forte was literate-but-raunchy rock-and-roll, and the new "Come Feel Me Tremble" is positively brimming with the stuff.
It's faint praise to call the disc Westerberg's best as a solo artist. But with sure-shots like the grungy set-opener, "Dirty Diesel," and "My Daydream," a shower-ready singalong that nods toward the Beatles' "Please Please Me," it earns that distinction with ease. All that's missing is an ace Kiss cover (à la "Black Diamond" on "Let It Be").
Instead, Westerberg serves up a twangy rendition of Jackson Browne's "These Days," one that replaces the weepiness of the original with the same bleary-eyed resignation that runs through "Here Comes a Regular," a signature tune for the Replacements.
"Crackle & Drag" takes best-of-disc honors, though. A bittersweet suicide tale sketched in sharp lyrical snapshots, the song is so strong Westerberg includes it twice. The electric version is the keeper, but when the drums finally kick in toward the end of the acoustic take, even the likes of Grandpaboy would be impressed.
(To hear a free Sound Bite from "Dead Man Shake," call Post-Haste at 202-334-9000 and press 8174. For "Come Feel Me Tremble," press 8172.)
