Send "The Jayhawks " Ringtones to your Cell 
| Pitchfork |
 Like the KTMA-TV season of "Mystery Science Theater 3000" or until recently Lifter Puller, the Jayhawks' self-titled debut has long been a local Twin Cities legend. The band released the album in 1986 on tiny Minneapolis label Bunkhouse Records in a very limited run. Shortly afterwards, they graduated to larger local indie Twin/Tone for 1989's Blue Earth, then to American Recordings for 1992's career-making Hollywood Town Hall, yet even as the Jayhawks became alt-country forebears, The Bunkhouse Album (as it became known among fans) remained more myth than music, a rumor on primitive online message boards that became currency for anyone who claimed to have heard it. Now, nearly 20 years after most diehard fans have drifted away, when the Jayhawks barely exist as a band, the album is finally getting a reissue, making its way to CD and digital for the first time ever.Fifteen years ago, this reissue would have made a lot more sense. Predating Uncle Tupelo's debut by four years, it's one of the earliest alt-country documents, a harbinger of the 90s roots movement that would contrast so sharply with that decade's pervasive irony. And yet, in 2010, when that trend has played out, it sounds like an artifact from a very different era. For the Jayhawks, The Bunkhouse Album is a record of their earliest days; it was made only a year after they'd formed and reveals the band at a very early stage of development, when they were just figuring out what they wanted to be. The blend of Bakersfield and old-time country with classic rock elements didn't come easy for them yet, but those tight harmonies between Mark Olson and Gary Louris, which have since become the band's defining trait, are present almost from the first notes of opener "Falling Star", as if they occur naturally and effortlessly. Olson, the primary lyricist on this album, writes about petty crooks, drunks, cherry pie, and jail, yet he's never quite believable: Those subjects seem more like country signifiers-- what he thinks these types of songs should be about-- and less like any kind of lived experience or personal observations....full text |
| Blogcritics |
| The Jayhawks are one of those bands that people only seem to have figured out later. Much like the Raspberries and Big Star (who the Jayhawks, none too coincidentally, paid tribute to in a song of the same name), later paved the way for the power-pop of bands like Cheap Trick, the Jayhawks were instrumental in the development of the alt-country genre which has long since been popularized by the likes of Wilco. Sometimes it sucks to be pioneers though. Just ask the Ramones — who, if most of them were even still alive today, would love to be cashing Green Day's royalty checks, I'm sure. The bottom line is that while the Jayhawks were still around, they more or less fell into the same sort of commercial netherworld as Big Star did. To put it in simple terms, the Jayhawks were a "critics' band." While they did enjoy a modest degree of commercial success, the fact is that they should have been Eagles huge. Anchored by the gorgeous Everly Brothers-like harmonies of principal songwriters Mark Olson and Gary Louris, the Jayhawks didn't just wear their primary influences like Gram Parsons and Neil Young proudly on their sleeves — they also brought it into the future. On albums like their twin '90s masterpieces Hollywood Town Hall and Tomorrow The Green Grass, the Jayhawks melded jangly, Byrds-like guitars, Flying Burrito Brothers country twang, and the sort of simple yet descriptive songwriting worthy of Robbie Robertson's most memorable work with the Band, to create masterful pictures of Americana worthy of Norman Rockwell....full text |
| Bbc |
| Pop music's road to riches is littered with the burnt out wrecks of bands like The Jayhawks. Somewhat overrated by many critics, their country rock charms somehow seemed pretty much lost on the Great American Public, and after six albums and two decades of struggles and changing personnel, they called it a day. This lovingly compiled and annotated retrospective, (which also comes in a deluxe 3-disc edition featuring demos, out-takes etc, and videos) does a decent job of covering their entire career, and may well win them new fans. But it may just as easily sink without trace, too. ''We always thought we were doing something really original,'' declares their longest running member, singer Gary Louris in PD Larson's sleevenotes. In spite of this, their influences were mostly fairly obvious, with particular emphasis on Gram Parsons and the Flying Burrito Brothers in the first phase of their career. The anthemic Trouble and Smile seem heavily indebted to The Hollies and The Beatles, and Tailspin sounds like a rewrite of The Byrds' version of Dylan's My Back Pages. Incidentally, their name was a sly homage to Bob's backing Band, originally called The Hawks. The trademark vocal harmony partnership of Mark Olsen and Gary Louris was sundered when Olsen unexpectedly left after their third album Tomorrrow The Green Grass. To his credit, Louris – a slightly less distinctive singer – soldiered on, with the newly recruited drummer Tim O'Regan taking the place of Olsen, who quit the band to make music with his wife Victoria Williams. There's even a song about her here – Miss Williams' Guitar....full text |
The Jayhawks lyrics
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