Wars and Tornadoes, the new album by Lawrence, KS-based Drakkar Sauna, is regrettably unlikely to earn them any new fans -- at least, not any new fans under the age of 70, as Wars and Tornadoes is a cover album of Louvin Brothers songs. Although the Louvin Brothers are quite well known as gospel country pioneers, and most roots music enthusiasts esteem the Brothers and their musical output, many contemporary listeners may only be familiar with the band via their infamous Satan Is Real album cover, which has long been a staple on various “worst album artwork” lists. Regardless, Drakkar Sauna’s Wallace Cochran and Jeff Stolz have obviously been greatly influenced by the brothers Louvin and pay their respects by capably introducing some of their best songs to today’s audience.
Given Drakkar Sauna’s bold commitment to Americana and their unpredictable antics, such a passionate project seemingly makes sense and doesn't particularly smell forced or contrived. With vacuum-tight vocal harmonies and Wild-West-train-robber style, the duo has been making warm, familiar, and nutty stripped-down bluegrass for the past several years. Historically, Drakkar Sauna has eschewed the banality associated with most neo-folk-bluegrass festival mainstays (David Grisman and the like) in favor of a dark irreverence that has garnered affection from the collegiate/Midwest/eccentric set. By ‘branding’ themselves with such well-written (but edgy) songs as “Mongrel of a HalfmanSlaveBitch” and “There’s Not Enough Tits on a Wolf,” they have done a commendable job balancing talent, kitsch, entertainment, and innovation to make their band one of the more unique country acts currently making music.
Wars and Tornadoes shows a definitive and impressive allegiance to their love of roots music. Not necessarily abandoning their redefinition of bluegrass, Cochran and Stolz concentrate on much more traditional rhythms and song structures in order to give the Louvin Brothers’ tunes the respect they deserve. Only occasional bass, mandolin, accordion, fiddle, and background vocals provide depth to Drakkar Sauna’s standard acoustic guitars and joint lead tenor harmonies. For many of the songs, the crisp production is the only indication that the songs were recorded recently, and not in a small Bible Belt barnyard in the 1960s.
Such respect for tradition is further cemented in Wars and Tornadoes’ song choices themselves; representative of the Louvin Brothers’ spirituality, many of the tracks have overt religious themes. In the current age of politically correct hypersensitivity, it is not the safest bet for an emerging, non-Christian Rock artist to release such songs as “River of Jordan,” “The Family Who Prays,” and “The Weapon of Prayer” without eliciting some sort of backlash. But Drakkar Sauna might have assumed that the singing of ol’-time religion would only enhance the authenticity of such an album, and the results turned out beautifully. Like the Louvins, Cochran and Stolz have an instinctive sense for vocal precision that carries just enough warbles for the sufficient amount of timeless emotional pull, either regardless of or particular to the lyrical themes.
Getting back to the first point, younger music listeners should definitely look past (if not find inspiration in) the wistfulness and theology ever-present in the songs of the Louvin Brothers. Wars and Tornadoes may not showcase Drakkar Sauna at their most innovative, but being at their most traditional ably demonstrates their musical talent and character. Charlie and the late Ira Louvin should be happy to know that their legacy will live on through their inspired music and not solely through their egregious album artwork.
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