(Artemis Records)
Steve Earle welcomes the adversity. If he shied away from it, he wouldn't be. His latest effort, Jerusalem drew fire for the sympathetic portrayal of John Walker Lindh, the notorious American Taliban. The song laments the situation of Lindh in his own words, looking for some source of truth despite being aised on MTV"" and thinking ""The first thing I heard that made sense was the word/Of Mohammed, peace be upon him."" The song is devastating, empathetic and honest, ending with a recitation of Sura 47, Verse 19 of the Quran. Though ""John Walker's Blues"" is deliberately provocative, it is no more than a 21st century equivalent to Bob Dylan's ""Hurricane.""
Jerusalem is a welcome antidote to zealous flag-waving; Earle chooses to bring the stars and stripes down off their pedestals and antennas of SUVs to hold it in his hands. He looks for meaning between its lines and ends up taking a longer look at its frayed edges than the noble blue between the stars. His eyes concentrate on the threads and watches as each one weaves itself together while noting that there are some badly tied knots and occasional cigarette burns in Old Glory.
""Amerika v. 6.0 (The Best We Can Do)"" rolls around with a low pulse of a bass line, asking if the nation has tried hard enough. Earle possesses the cynicism for the higher-ups and the elites, singing, ""There's doctors down on Wall Street sharpenin' their/ Scalpels and tryin' to cut a deal/ Meanwhile, back at the hospital, we got accountants/ Playin' God and countin' out the pills."" ""Conspiracy Theory"" dredges up the bones of Vietnam, aching for the men who did not come back and asking what secrets are not revealed by the powers that be.
But Earle does not hang his head on the hackneyed state of the world today. He manages a few tracks with vibrant moments and lovely harmonies. There is ""I Remember You,"" featuring a duet with Emmylou Harris. She shines, he smolders and together they burn with a brightness that has its share of painful embers. It is a happily content tune that serves as an antithetical statement to Jerusalem's overt political tone. ""The Kind"" consists of wishes for stories with clear endings and noble characters. It recalls Earle's recent short story collection, ""Doghouse Roses,"" through its wishful dreams told on the hard pavement of the American dream.
As an eclectic and ever-evolving singer, Earle's album forgets his country roots. He turns to rock and punk to tell these stories. The instruments are pared down and the solos sparse and Earle's voice fills in the holes. He spews gravel and spits sand with his words, occasionally grating out a verse and slipping on it. But overall, it works beautifully. His words come from that place in the gut that only exists in troubadours and highwaymen.
Jerusalem walks right up to the edge of cynicism and pulls itself away before it is too dark. It is an album that speaks of hope. The affirmation of a better day on the horizon is not an easy and quick hope, but one set with the ashes of past mistakes and the dust of present ignorance. As Earle states in the title track, ""I believe that on that day all the children of Abraham/will lay down their swords forever in Jerusalem.""
