April 2001
Beaver Nelson: Little Brother
By Michael Clay Andrews, Flagpole Magazine

Folks, I've said it again and again and I'm gonna say it some more: Texas makes good stuff. This does, however, exclude our current one-letter head honcho, the capital "W." Musically, though, the Lone Star State has long been a hotbed of varying styles and instantly recognizable personas. You got Doug Sahm, Townes Van Zandt, Butch Hancock and several others that some of y'all out there will probably greet with simply "Who?" or "Huh?" Well, how about these guys: ZZ Top, the Butthole Surfers, Willie Nelson? By now, you've surely got a handle on what I'm throwing your way. Austin's Beaver Nelson (no relation to Ol' Willie) is one of the latest in a long zig-zagging line of guitar-toting troubadours out to build a strong reputation around, and away from, Texan territory.

Nelson's second release, Little Brother , is a downright pop-driven, country-influenced, hook-laden good time for one and all. Nelson's sound fits snugly somewhere in between underground pop wildman Alex Chilton and Wilco's Jeff Tweedy, with a definite roadhouse country slant a la I Feel Alright-era Steve Earle. Opening with the infectious "Fallen Down," Nelson sets a rollicking, driven pace that carries through the rest of the album in spades. Failed and fractured love must certainly enter the picture, as it does, indeed, go along with the territory. "I wasn't good enough for your little girl, was I now?" he defiantly proclaims in the appropriately titled "Little Girl," with staunch silver tongue and shit-eating grin in tow. "Little Brother Blues" is a fond remembrance of days long gone, best enjoyed after at least two rounds of Lone Star or whichever brew you deem worthy of consumption. The album closes with "My Bones Will Be The Picture Frame," best exemplifying Nelson's individual style. Its slow groove is augmented nicely with plenty of organ, horns, lap steel and percussion to drive home the cloudy, yet hopeful, lyrics.

Little Brother is one of those records that works best when driving out of state at 6 a.m., fueled by caffeine and a couple hours of sleep, or on the jukebox while you down a couple of cold ones around the corner at half past midnight. The important thing is, it works. Keep your eyes and ears open for Mr. Nelson and remember to drink one for the Beaver.