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Cultural waves coming from Minneapolis now include The Carpetbaggers, a tough-minded country music group whose Sin Now. . .Pray Later album couldn’t be more contemporary — or more beholden to country’s roots. This group understands that once-bucolic suburbs are today’s wellspring of country’s traditional ache and struggle. Songs like No Such Luck, War Between the States and Suburban Boy deal with careless sex, a divided psyche and a place where “life ain’t nothin’ but a vodka tonic.” Old-time references abound: a little Ernest Tubb, lots of slap-bass playing and a deep bow to the great Marvin Rainwater, one of this worthy band’s worthy heroes.

• USA Today, May 24, 1996

Cryin’ in your pitcher, dancin’ in your barn music, here. Safety Last, the Jayhawks, Gear Daddies, Farm Accident. . . the pure country/Minneapolis hillbilly sounds just keep on keepin’ on, and its newest allies are these three scruffy, sweet-singing cats. With the Contras, Rich Copley and Mike Crabtree have shown a covert but expert flair for lean roots rock; now that they’ve been joined by ace tunesmith John Magnuson, the trio is responsible for the swingin’-est new hootenanny in town, and all the world is their stage. The ‘baggers are a lock to be one of the “Best New Bands of ‘92” (you read it hear first!) or, at the very least, central players in the next tribute to Hank Williams. 9 p.m., Uptown Bar, 3018 Hennepin Ave., Mpls; 823-5704.

• Jim Walsh, City Pages, Jan. 16, 1992

Now Hear This!
Carpetbaggers/First Avenue

Personnel/
Rich Copley/upright bass, vocals
Mike Crabtree/lead guitar, vocals
John Magnuson/vocals, guitar, harmonica

Background: Copley and Crabtree were the frontmen for good-humored rockers The Contras, but this country-rock trio is an extension of Crabtree’s and Magnuson’s after school sessions playing along with John Prine and Bob Dylan records back in junior high. The three had a short-lived band before Magnuson left for college in New Hampshire. When he returned and the Contras disbanded, Copley bought an upright bass and rejoined Magnuson to pursue their true passion for country music.

Concept: The Carpetbaggers may have taken their name from opportunistic Yankees of the postbellum period, but at least these musical Carpetbaggers exploit some fresh resources — namely less-heralded country artists such as Jimmie Skinner, Eddie Noack, Porter Wagoner, Norma Jean, Don Gibson and Boudleaux Bryant. Now the group’s 30-song sets are about half originals, but they’re written in a style quite similar to the jumping country hits of 35 years ago.

And like the real carpetbaggers of the Reconstruction, these guys travel light. They have no drummer; they get their beat from Copley’s percussive bass style and Magnuson’s forceful acoustic rhythm. The addition of Crabtree’s humble, single-note guitar playing creates warm country melodies with a subtle rockabilly feel.

“That’s really where we’re looking,” said Magnuson/ “Not the rockabilly itself, but that era where the country guys had to respond to rockabilly. It gave country music some beat and some rock spirit.”

Honky-tonk country may not be second nature to city boys, but Magnuson and Copley have learned that the proper balance of formality and freshness makes for the strongest songs. Said Copley, “It’s intimidating to write country at first. I think you have to get over the desire to be totally original. By its nature, country is a folk music, and part of that is handing the tradition down.”

Added Magnuson, “You do have to adhere to the form, but there is room to just tweak it a little bit. And you also have to come up with a strong melody line. No matter how many times these three-chord songs have been written, there’s still a good melody out there that can be yours and yours only,”

Review: A Carpetbaggers gig is like visiting a tavern with a jukebox full of scratchy old country 45s — one two-minute gem after another. More impressive than their classic sound is their high standard of lyric writing. Their originals and cover tunes are seldom trite, often witty and always meaningful for the singer and the listener.

Like those old 45s, the Carpetbaggers put vocals up front, and they’re blessed with three capable lead singers who also blend well. Magnuson has a husky tone reminiscent of John Prine, or even Elvis Costello’s country phase; Copley’s chilling bass vocals recall a young Johnny Cash, and Crabtree throws in a beautiful high harmony to round it off.

These days, jukeboxes are filled with shiny CDs of classic rock, dance pop and plenty of overstylized C&W. Fortunately for fans of catchy country songwriting, there’s still be Carpetbaggers.

• Jim Meyer, Minneapolis Star-Tribune, Apr. 2, 1992

Which is scarier?: The specter of Halloween creeping up on the horizon, or the thought that this time next week, we could all be facing four more years of Read My Lipps, Inc.? Me, I’ll take my chances with Jason, Candyman, Freddy, and their lot — at least those good ol’ boys look you in the eye when they maim your ass. But since that wack Bushwacker is easily the freakiest two-headed movie monster since RoboRon, the week’s most highly recommended gig is Tuesday at a voting booth near you. There’s no cover charge an best of all, doors open early (7 a.m.!).

But forget politics for the moment and get out the two-steppin’ shoes. It’s time to get back into the pubs and clubs — the joints where the only family values that really matter are regularly defined. It’s also where urbane hillbillies The Carpetbaggers will celebrate the release of their timeless new tragicomedy Country Miles Apart (Twin Tone/Clean); Friday at the Uptown Bar, to be specific. Opening for the ‘baggers will be fellow city bumpkins The Sycamores, who, in addition to founding singer/guitarist Frank Randall and drummer Dave Downey, have recently been joined by former Gear Daddies bassist Nick Ciola and (soon-to-be-former) Picadors guitarist Adam Levy. Look for the Sycamen to serve up cuts from their new and oh-so-expertly named Crackpot Records EP Self-Titled EP.

If you don’t get your fill of Carpetbaggin’ at the Uptown Friday, know that the super-mobile threesome of Rich Copley, John Magnuson and Mike Crabtree will perform at Oak Folkjokeopus Records next Friday (November 6, 8 p.m.) and at Aardvark Records in Bloomington next Saturday (November 7, noon). And if that’s not enough, remember to keep your eyes peeled for the twangin’ trio on their cable access soulshow, Viva & Jerry’s Country Music Videos; heck, I’d give anything to see golden-throated Jerry jam with the Carpetbaggers to “Always a Pallbearer.” Thumbs up. . .

• Jim Walsh, City Pages, Oct. 28, 1992

The Carpetbaggers
Country Miles Apart (CD)
Clean/Twin/Tone

The hatted hacks on TV really aren’t the death of country music, it just seems that way. The good stuff lurks in odd corners like Minneapolis, where The Carpetbaggers live. They’re a trio — two guitars and a well-slapped acoustic bass — who trade vocals and songwriting duties. Theirs is still a plain, honest music for people who lead (or try to lead) plain, honest lives. Yeah, the songs are corny, but they swing and they kick more ass than a dozen major label alternative bands.

Country music has a bad name — and deserves it, mostly — but Hank Williams was every bit as important a bluesman as Robert Johnson, they just came at the problem differently. The folks on Diesel Only (with their Eastern Seaboard “rig rock”), Jimmie Dale Gilmore and a handful of others are keeping this tradition alive and dancing. Add the Carpetbaggers to the list.

I have been this drunk: “The waitress smiled but she just wants a tip/Mine to her is less gunk on her lips/The pitchers just keep coming, I can’t hit a thing” (“Empties at my Feet”). That’s the trick of it, the lyrics are sharp, clever and telling. The beauty of this music comes from the truth of the songs, and I don’t give a damn if it’s trendy, it still rocks sublimely.

• Grant Alden, The Rocket (Seattle), January 1993

Of course country is one of today’s more critically maligned genres — with excellent reason. The low opinion of current C&W is held well beyond any cadre of too-cool scribes whose hipster prejudices never let them be fair to the music in the first place. (On the other hand, you may’ve noted how some music writers for dailies and mass-market magazines rolled over in the wake of country’s latest popularity boom, becoming populist apologists for the like of Garth Brooks and even the especially odious Billy Ray Cyrus.)

Earlier this year, a chat with Country Dick Montana offered some cutting perspective on all this that bears recounting. Imagine the rumbling deep voice of the Beat Farmers’ drummer-singer (also a key player in various other projects through the years, many heavy on the country influence) as you take in this quote: “Nashville is waxed, thoroughly. And that’s a sad thing, considering what it [country] is capable of. I’d like to do a country album and, if nothing else, take care of these underwear salesmen they’ve got out there now; these rigid mama’s boys they have callin’ themselves C&W stars bug the shit outta me. I mean, who the hell presses their fuckin’ Levi’s? God. . . “

Well, Minnesota’s Carpetbaggers may not be country’s salvation, but they certainly give the form back some dignity. And don’t let their very Northern address or the fact that they record for Minneapolis’s celebrated Twin/Tone label (actually the T/T spin-off Clean) make you suspect otherwise. Though Twin/Tone was flyin’ the indie-rock flannel long before grunge/Seattle/etc. . . don’t forget the drunken honky-tonk tendencies that would surface in T/T-birthed acts like the Replacements and Soul Asylum. Or the country inflections of Soul Asylum’s fellow Minnesotan tourmates of last year, the Jayhawks.

As well as the ‘Baggers music may go with imbibing, though, their honky tonk is pretty straight-up, unlike the sodden variety the ‘Mats and SA would veer into during the course of primarily rock sets. Nor does the trio twist country to their own design in the warped fashion of underground crazies like the Workdogs, the Wolverton Brothers, or the (sadly) now-defunct Gibson Bros. The CBs draw on lesser-known country-artists of a few decades past, like Jimmie Skinner, Norma Jean, Eddie Noack, and Liz Anderson, to produce a lean sound, controlled but still highly emotive. The rhythmic chug of John Magnuson’s acoustic guitar and Rich Copley’s slap bass obviates any need for a drummer, with Mike Crabtree’s understated electric guitar rounding things out. The traded-off vocals range from evocations of Johnny Cash and the Tennessee Three to Elvis Costello’s C&W flirtations and John Prine. In advance of their second album (due in early February, following up last year’s debut LP Country Miles Apart), the Carpetbaggers will play S.D.’s alternative answer to the Grand Ol’ Opry (okay, maybe Gilley’s), the Casbah. Also on tonight’s bill are locals Diablo 44 and Deadbolt’s shitkickin’ alter ego, the Strangers.

• David Stampone, San Diego’s Weekly Reader, Dec. 16, 1993

Gracing the cover of the Carpetbaggers’ second release is a photo of a large tombstone slated with the name “LOVE” and a small bunch of flowers on the grave. The image is simple, obvious, and classic, but so much so that you wonder why it has never been done before. That is the beauty of the Carpetbaggers. From Rich Copley’s anthem of accident sobriety (“Sober Again”) to John Magnuson’s ironic “Saddest Clown at Happy Hour” to Mike Crabtree’s fatal suggestion, “Give me a blindfold, a cigarette, and then tell me goodbye,” the images continually conjured by this countryesque trio are almost too beautiful and simple not to have been thought of before.

Their stripped-down approach to country fares well in the hands of producer Brian Paulson (who also produced Uncle Tupelo’s recent Anodyne). And the sound here, while distinctly ‘90s, is often like the raucous bunch of guys backing up Elvis on the Sun sessions — check out the trio’s cover of “I Never Felt Like This” and the bouncy “Hal-le-lu-jah! Hal-le-lu-jah!” chorus of “Thank You Lord.” Magnuson’s “Good-Looking Guys,” based on the premise that since the good-looking guys break the girl’s heart, “she’d be better off just settling for some guy like me,” is better than anything I’ve heard recently on commercial country stations. And for a couple of midwestern boys, it’s as true as the fact that Minneapolis lies somewhere between a Winn-Dixie and in the inspiration for “North to Alaska.”

• Joyce Turiskylie, City Pages, Mar. 9, 1994

“My reasons for livin’ are killin’ me.” “I wish they’d have their wedding now, so I could drink for free.” “Please don’t give me none of your mechanical bull.” The Carpetbaggers’ one-liners alone are worth the price of admission; it’s an added bonus that the combo plays butt-kicking rockabilly to boot. The Idlewilds, Chair and Flatstor open.

• Keith Goetzman, Twin Cities Reader, Jan. 4, 1995

Honky-tonk hillbilly country trio combine wit and real emotion in their jangly tunes

After a suburban child is introduced to Crayola Crayons, a guardian directs the child to stay between the lines and not to color the living room walls. Eventually the child will grow to realize that crossing some boundaries is suitable.

Nobody ever told the Carpetbaggers that.

The Carpetbaggers, a trio from the suburbs of Minneapolis, have ventured into a new frontier and added color to country music.

These suburban desperadoes blend honky-tonk music in a humorous and unprecedented manner, which brings to mind for the immortal hillbilly. For example, “The blood that my heart pumped was red, but now has turned to black,” are lyrics from “The Way You Left Me” on Sin Now. . .Pray Later, the third release for the Carpetbaggers.

“That’s That” reveals the hilarious bent of the band’s lyrics: “I ain’t worth my weight in gold or silver, lead or bronze, copper steel or plastic wrap.”

Yet, the Carpetbaggers also have a sensitive story to share. “It’s Nearly Over” expresses the passion shared with a good-bye kiss, and “Suburban Boy” exposes their dedication to country music through their suburban heritage, which spans from “frozen TV dinners to hot tubs.”

The Carpetbaggers combination of somber mood and wisecracks has landed them shows from New York City to San Juan Capistrano. And while touring with Son Volt, the Carpetbaggers were enlightened from music to bar room brawls. They even played at Son Volt singer Jay Farrar’s wedding.

The Carpetbaggers line-up includes slap-bassist and vocalist Rich Copley. With his bionic arm and Johnny Cash voice, Copley provides rhythm for Mike Crabtree’s home made electric guitar and John Magnuson’s acoustic rhythm guitar. Magnuson, who prefers Buck Owens to Pearl Jam, also writes and sings for the Carpetbaggers. Together, these suburban hillbillies have created a rockabilly shuffle defying today’s commercialized country music.

Their previous albums include Country Miles Apart (1992) and Nowhere to Go But Down (1993) (note the hint of fatality from the album titles?). The Carpetbaggers have colorful fresh tunes and cover four songs by a few of their heroes on Sin Now. . .Pray Later, Glen Douglas, Werly Fairburn, and Marvin Rainwater are heroes to the Carpetbaggers, but they may have induced disaster for a kindergarten teacher futilely trying to teach them to stay between the lines. So don’t be afraid!

• Tobie Baker, The Oxford Eagle (Mississippi), June 24, 1996

The Carpetbaggers may not be the best-known, but they’re probably the most honest of the new breed of young musicians working in the insurgent country style that combines vintage hillbilly music and punk rock sensibilities.

From Minneapolis, the group chose its name “to poke fun at the notion of guys from the North exploiting the South for their own needs,” singer-songwriter-guitarist John Magnuson states with refreshing frankness.

“We’re from the North and we’re stealing from the South, but it’s a crime of passion,” admits the 30-year-old musician during an interview from Norfolk, Va., where the band stopped this week en route to Nashville. They open for Son Volt, another band in the alternative country vein, Saturday night at 328 Performance Hall.

The love affair with hillbilly music started, Magnuson explains, while bassist-songwriter Rich Copley and guitarist Mike Crabtree were still living the punk life in a Minneapolis-area band, the Contras. Doing a little musical research on his own, Copley pushed back through the ‘90s, trying to get to the source of the attitude and spirit of punk.

“Eventually he arrived back at rockabilly,” Magnuson says. “He started listening to Jack Scott and Elvis’ early records. Then we crossed the line, lopped off the ‘rocka’ and stuck more to the ‘billy’ side with Johnny Cash. It kinda went from there.”

The band members became regulars at Twin Cities Goodwill stores and junk shops, hitting their knees to search out dusty, second-hand hillbilly platters for inspiration and education.

Among the finds were tunes by such obscure and underappreciated talents as Glen Douglas, Bobby Lee Trammell and Werly Fairburn, all included as cover songs on the band’s third album, Sin Now. . .Pray Later, released this week by HighTone Records.

The hillbilly tunes also provided prototypes for country-leaning originals, albeit with a contemporary, punkish spin.

Seasoned with irreverence and a dash of off-the-wall humor, the songs on Sin Now explore schizophrenia (War Between the States), platonic love (You Stay There) and over-indulgence (My Jeannie’s in a Bottle).

Consistent with the band’s forthright name is Magnuson’s anthem to the culture of his own youth, Suburban Boy, in which, to a fractured John Denver tune, he describes himself as “nothing but a good old-fashioned well-to-do suburban boy” and boasts “I was suburban when suburban wasn’t cool.”

Among the fond, fractured memories of life between city and country: “The aroma of Dad’s leather briefcase used to fill the air/And oh, the fragrance of those frozen dinners Mom prepared/How those smells transport me back to that four-story house/With me out on the lawn pretending I’m Jack Nicklaus.”

Suburban Boy, Magnuson explains, was inspired by watching a video featuring a modern country artist who appeared to have no more roots in country culture than The Carpetbaggers themselves.

“We saw some guy singing, longing for the days of farm life. It didn’t seem like this person had anything to do with a farm. He was trying to be all sentimental.

“We started making fun of it by singing about our youth, which was filled with paper routes, television and HoHos after school. We figured we may as well come clean with the truth about where we come from. We’re not gonna try to snow anybody, make believe we’re something we’re not.

“We’re just guys from the suburbs who fell in love with this music via records. We didn’t osmosize manure, or something like that, to love it.”

• Jay Orr, Nashville Banner, May 17, 1996

Rich Copley and the boys in the Carpetbaggers served up a little classic with this CD.

I first heard the Carpetbaggers on an imported compilation of the mid-90s, and was hooked on their single backon that disc. Living in Cornwall then, there was no chance of following up on their music, hence my recent purchase of Sin Now.

The ‘Baggers manage to sound retro without being kitsch. They sound not unlike the early Sun Studio recording artists such as Presley and Cash, due to the fact that they only have two guitars, acoustic and electric, and a stand-up slap bass. Again, like their musical ancestors, they manage to combine songs that are sometimes country, sometimes hillbilly and othertimes rockabilly in nature.

The songs deal with the usual country topic of debauchery, drink and dying relationships, but for all of that the musicians sound as if they are having a ball playing the tunes, and that infectious feeling passes on to the listener.

For me, the standout tracks are the title track, Jeanie in a Bottle and Estranged Bedfellows.

All in all, if you are like your country, unpolished and primitive, and with a raw rockabilly heart, then this is an ideal CD to collect!