Gettin' By On Gettin' Down

Sam Morrow doesnt seem made for the 21st century, but thats only because hes constructed himself out of the sounds and styles of the 1970s. On his first album, 2018s Concrete and Mud, he leaned heavily on ZZ Top and Tom Petty; on its 2020 sequel Gettin By on Gettin Down, he swaps the Heartbreaker for Lowell George. The ghost of the onetime Little Feat leader hangs heavy and happily over Gettin By on Gettin Down, apparent in the albums thick, funky rhythms and Morrows mischievous rhymes. Where the Feat often delved into dense, jazzy improvs, Morrow rambles along a relatively straight-and-narrow path, keeping his focus on vibe and song. Sometimes, the songs seem to threaten to take their sweet time, losing themselves within a hazy groove, but this isnt a jam record, its a Southern rock LP where the feel and the tunes reign supreme. Morrow saves his lone ballad for the end, serving up I Think Ill Just Die Here as a bittersweet coda, spending the rest of the album playing boogies both sleek (Rosarita) and fuzzy (Gettin By on Gettin Down), and settling into rhythms so drenched in electric pianos and cowbells, they feel as if they were excavated from the 70s (Wicked Woman, Make Em Miss Me). While Morrow makes no apology for trading upon the past, Gettin By on Gettin Down doesnt feel like a revival so much as a continuation, as if he was the first Southern rocker to pick up the strands dangling from Feats Dont Fail Me Now. Perhaps theres a limited audience who will notice these connections, but the good thing about Gettin By on Gettin Down is that it isnt made for them; its for anybody who happens to be on the same semi-baked, sunny wavelength as Morrow. If you share his taste or sensibility, Gettin By on Gettin Down is a good time. ~ Stephen Thomas Erlewine