Tom Leach (1998)

One band that is noticeably absent from this list is Blue Mountain. They are one of a handful of bands that just missed the cut and were painful for me to leave off. That's not to say they don't have a place in all of this, though. They were definitely a significant part of the alt-country heyday and it was at one of their shows that Len and I made a great discovery.

Tom Leach was the opener at that show at TT the Bear's in Cambridge, obviously selected by the local promoter for his potential appeal to Blue Mountain's roots-rocking audience. Also on that bill were Leach's Slow River/Rykodisc labelmates, the Purple Ivy Shadows from Providence, another unfortunately underappreciated band that no longer exists...although there have been rumors of a reunion involving founding members Chris Daltry and Erik Carlson.

Back then, we likened Tom to the second coming of Johnny Cash. Of course, his sound definitely owed a debt to the legends of country music, but his influences turned out to be a little more varied than that. Regardless, he became my first and only favorite local artist of my days in Boston, and quite possibly the artist whom I've seen live the most times, although Shore Leave must be creeping up on that distinction.

I'm not sure if it's deserved, but I give Tom Leach the credit for inspiring Len's golf method of rating songs. Len and I played golf, albeit poorly, together during our high school years, at places we would later hang out late at night drinking, such as College Hill. Len's system was pretty basic, but it worked. Par was a decent song, with a Birdie being a very good song, and an Eagle was one of those songs that would give you goosebumps every time you heard it. We never really bothered to rate songs that were above par, except to refer to those we didn't like by artists we did, as Bogies. I suppose we could have gone further in that direction, considering a golf score can increase infinitely, just as a song can be infinitely bad.

There were a few songs that were identified as Eagles during those numerous Tom Leach shows that we saw back in the day. Unfortunately, I don't know the names of any, and none of them have ever seen the light of day on record. I own the only two official Tom Leach releases, as well as two homemade recordings, but none of them hit the nail on the head in the way that those Plough & Stars shows did. Well, maybe that's a good thing in that it makes them all the more special. I doubt if Tom would've made this particular top 40 otherwise.

He's still recording and playing today, although he moved to Brooklyn several years ago. On a recent visit to the Abbey Lounge, I told him that I haven't had a favorite local artist since he left town. It's sort of like missing a woman so much that you feel like you don't want anyone else, although that feeling eventually passes. Tom Leach still hasn't been replaced, and if my love life was a perfect analogy, it would be pretty sad. Sometimes it feels that way, but it's really not that bad.

The thing of it is, it wasn't just Tom himself that made those songs and those shows and those times so special. It was also the band he assembled and their cohesiveness and chemistry at that particular point in time. What I'm trying to say is, it's not the same without Dave Steele. His amazing guitar playing, background vocals, and Gram Parsons-esque good looks were a major factor in making those experiences so memorable.

And it's also not the same without the guy we called "The Ultimate Tom Leach Fan", an honor that may have been bestowed upon him at the expense of two more deserving fans.

Joe Henry (1996)

1996 was a year in which I received two excellent recommendations for albums by artists who would eventually make this list. The first of these came from Anders while watching him play a solo show at a bar in downtown Poughkeepsie. I believe it was called Brady's. The thing I know for sure is that we frequented this bar often while in town, and the guy behind the bar was almost always a younger Arlington alum whose name escapes me, though I recall his nickname was "Bird"...and he was not Brian McBrearty.

Speaking of McBrearty, I saw him a few years ago, for the first time in a long time, at Gary Griffiths' wedding. The story he was most anxious to recount from our past was when we played Big League baseball together. Brian had just hit what was probably the only home run in his baseball career. The opposing pitcher had to be extremely embarrassed because, while Brian was a pretty good pitcher, he had about as much bat speed as...well, he couldn't hit. Anyway...in his next at bat, he got knocked down as the opposing pitcher attempted to regain what was left of his pride. Apparently, according to Brian, I was coaching first base and went off like a time bomb, yelling at the pitcher or the umpire...or maybe both, as I wasn't the model of composure back then. Brian seemed to always remember that I "had his back", not that it would've meant all that much.

So, back to that night at Brady's. Between sets, Anders recommended that I check out Joe Henry's Trampoline. I followed up on this recommendation, and it would become my #1 album in the inaugural year of my top 10 list. Most every track was at least a birdie in my book, and the closing track "Parade" was definitely an eagle, to reference Len's favorite method of evaluating songs. Those of you who play or know golf can probably figure it out, but I'll get to an explanation of the system later. I still consider Trampoline to be Henry's best, though some are partial to the two strong alt-country albums he had released in the early 90's with the help of The Jayhawks' Gary Louris and Marc Perlman, Short Man's Room and Kindness of the World.

The magic of Joe Henry would peter out shortly thereafter. His next two albums, Fuse and Scar, were pretty good, but far from great, in my estimation, and the only time I saw him live, at the House of Blues in Harvard Square, wasn't very memorable. Madonna's brother-in-law makes this list, however, on the strength of Trampoline being my first ever official album of the year, though Son Volt's Trace would unofficially achieve that notoriety for 1995, and for the pleasure I would derive from exploring his back catalog.