The Lost Cabin and the Mystery Trees

Sounds like … an Americana blend of country, folk, rock, and blues reminiscent of The Eagles, The Band, Tom Petty, Buddy Miller, Bob Dylan, and Derek Webb

The Lost Cabin and the Mystery Trees

The Lost Dogs

July 1, 2006

At a glance … The Lost Cabin is a return to and improvement on the playfully upbeat country pop and rock that characterized Lost Dogs’ earlier albums, though a few of the songs are colored with some light profanity.

We last heard from Lost Dogs in 2003 with Nazarene Crying Towel (BEC), a maudlin yet inspiring effort that worked well with the band’s Americana pop style. Though critically acclaimed and possibly their most explicitly spiritual album in their 14-year history, it went largely ignored and the band is now more or less independent. Nevertheless, the collaboration between front men Terry Taylor (Daniel Amos), Derri Daugherty (The Choir), and Michael Roe (The 77s) seems to have only strengthened with time, in spite of the loss of Gene Eugene (Adam Again) back in 2000.

Thankfully, the Lost Dogs solider on, joined by drummer/co-producer Steve Hindalong (The Choir) and happier than ever to be recording their mix of country, folk, rock, and blues. The Lost Cabin and the Mystery Trees is something of a return to the band’s more playful and upbeat side, matching sweet country & western ballads about lost love (“Whispering Memories”) and prayerful regrets (“One More Day”) with California country rockers like “Devil’s Elbow” and “Get Me Ready” resembling The Eagles and Tom Petty. It is indeed one of the stronger albums from Lost Dogs, favoring the same sound that fans have come to expect, but improved through experience and camaraderie.

The content, however, includes occasional light profanity in a few story songs. The title track includes a reference to “that S.O.B,” while “This Business Is Goin’ Down” refers to someone’s father “who calls me ‘that damn ne’er-do-well’.” The humorous Jimmy-Buffett-meets-Steve-Taylor-styled “Only One Bum in Corona Del Mar” refers to a homeless man who would “flip us the bird,” but it’s also a spot-on commentary about how the homeless are mistreated. Which is a good segue to the powerful lyrics of the album’s closer, “That’s Where Jesus Is”: “That’s Jesus in the homeless faces/With the junkies in their livin’ hell/That’s Jesus with the drunks and in the lonely places/The rest homes and prison cells/That’s where Jesus is/Where we ought to be.”