Rear ReView

Darius Rucker's Charleston SC 1966

by M.J. Fine

With a debut that sold more than 16 million copies in the U.S. alone, Hootie & the Blowfish couldn't help but post diminishing returns. For those with their hearts set on the charts, a follow-up that sells only 3 million is a disappointment; the single-platinum third album is shameful. The last two barely cracked the Top 50 and didn't even go gold. As for frontman Darius Rucker's solo R&B record, released in 2002, no one knew and no one cared.

So Rucker's gotta feel good to be back on the up-swing. He topped the country charts in 2008 with Learn to Live, and he's done it again with Charleston, SC 1966 (Capitol Nashville). People acted pleasantly surprised the first time around — it'd been a while since a black artist left his mark on Nashville — but listening to his latest, it seems a perfect fit. When it comes to songs written by committee, platitudes of gratitude delivered in a gruff but nonthreatening baritone, and glossy production, Rucker's no bald-headed stranger. Given all the crying in these songs, he's lucky his sturdy, soulful voice — his biggest asset by far — is so well suited to country.

Tears are on tap in nine of the 11 songs on 1996's Cracked Rear View, including two of the three Top 10 hits that made it such a tough act to follow. After two relatively dry openers, the crying jag kicks off with a damaged, R.E.M.-loving girlfriend ("Let Her Cry") and a pussy-whipped Miami Dolphins fan ("Only Wanna Be With You,") and doesn't let up until the piano-based "Goodbye" caps a relationship and the record. Along the way, he makes racists and no-good women weep, while he laments the passing of his mother and the passing of time.

Somehow, the songs all sound both bland and grandiose, but Rucker's pain always sounds sincere, as does his belief in the healing power of music. Here's a guy who swipes a whole verse from Bob Dylan, works references to Public Enemy and folksinger Nanci Griffith into the same song, and — on Charleston' s "In a Big Way" — compares himself to country legends George Jones and Charley Pride. Listening to the masters isn't enough to put Rucker in their league, but if he enjoys swapping mildly boorish quips with Brad Paisley on "I Don't Care," well, he's suffered long enough.

(m_fine@citypaper.net)