Tim O’Brien
Proper Recordings (2008)

Sometimes, a lone singer with a banjo is the most powerful voice you’ll hear. So it is with Tim O’Brien’s Chameleon. The multi-instrumentalist plays it all himself, accompanying his voice on guitar, bouzouki, banjo, mandolin, mandola, and fiddle. O’Brien sings a collection of songs that could change your life if you listen to what he’s saying.

The production (shared with Gary Paczosa) is simple and straight, and sounds like you’re in the room with O’Brien. The acoustic space fills with songs that could only come from America, right here, right now.

The “chameleon” is put forth by O’Brien as an abstract notion of how we change to fit in. This metaphor for change and deception surfaces throughout.

Tunes such as “Red Dog In The Morning,” “World Of Trouble,” and “Phantom Phone Call” invoke O’Brien’s mountain music heritage. The latter’s outright declaration that the mobile phone is a threat to the human race casts the danger as biological rather than technological.

The title track sings of the sun and moon as all-seeing orbs privy to the things we keep hidden. Here, O’Brien addresses the chameleon directly. “Megna’s” and “Red Dog in the Morning” recall a life and time that, while not really that long ago, seem far away and unattainable. The respite of these songs is warm and wistful.

“The World Was Made for Everyone,” “When in Rome,” and “World of Trouble” put a lively spin on some pretty damn bad things. The first title references “This Land is Your Land,” satirizing the idea that the world was created just for America. The second uses a common cliché to get its work done, avoiding the chameleon altogether by doing little to mask itself as a cautionary tale to Americans (O’Brien included). The Cotton-Eyed Joe quotation in “World of Trouble” is not to be missed.

“Safe in Your Arms” returns to sanctuary, the refrain reminiscent of protestant hymnody. The song tells of that safe place we all seek so that we can dream. Some of us have it, and more of us need it. Next, the song “Crooked Road” could be taken as a passing reference to Old Dominion’s bluegrass heritage, a road that O’Brien walks; but here, he sings of another path he treads, one suggested by these songs, one that is not easy. But he does not walk alone.

The need for love is reprised in the album closer “Nothing to Say.” Here, O’Brien reassures the listener that our problems are not new to the world. Coming to terms with how history sees us can be harsh, but O’Brien offers hope by invoking Christ’s message from the Sermon on the Mount, “Give love and get in love, that’s all it’s about.”

John Hildreth lives in Giles County, teaches at Radford University, and plays in the contra dance band Dot Dot Dash.