Review: Tommy Jones – Self Titled

Tommy Jones  – Tommy’s Place (OVQD 14-20)

Contemporary music has grown increasingly towards becoming a political medium in the past few years. It seems that to be accepted you almost have to mention A) “Getting it Together” B) The Nixon Administration C) Kent State D) George Jackson or E) All, of the above, to be accepted to wide appeal.

So let me tell you that it’s refreshing to slap a record on your turntable, and receive some really good-time, non-racial, non-philosophical, and even non-vocal music when you were expecting something like a cheap imitation of this week’s really big superstar.

And wouldn’t you know that this enjoyment wouldn’t be granted by anybody, but somebody special. Tommy Jones is 16 years-old, chronologically. His creation, Tommy’s Place should outlast him. I say should. God knows I’ve fizzled out on the reasons why groups like Grand Funk or Three Dog Night are number one world-wide and say, Randy Newman is still… Randy who?

Tommy’s Place is an album of shitkicking music. Tommy Jones plays clean, efficient, unflashy, and extremely accessible country music, bluegrass music, hillbilly music – you name it. More specifically the man plays: lead, Spanish, and dobro guitar.

Something however sets the music of Tommy Jones aside from the music of any other country, or for that matter, any artist.

Jones has not let his emotions creep into his music. He is regurgitating chord structures and guitar licks into a mike. Music. Not music, but just music. Not yet has he learned to let his guitar, however accomplished and talented, to convey his own personal trials, triumphs, and experiences. He is playing from the book, not the heart.

This is what sets him apart from any other serious artist. This is what makes him unique. He does not yet feel compelled to share himself with the world.

This seems to be the age where all talented younger people are either acrobats or teen-age idols. It’s awful nice to run across someone who doesn’t try to be either.

Courtesy of the Door (aka San Diego Door) – Cameron Crowe –  March 30, 1972  – April 13, 1972