Eddy Raven is not a shrinking violet. Well over 6 feet tall, he can look anyone he chooses in the eye. And he always speaks his mind.
A couple of weeks ago he had some harsh but honest words for one of the major country music organizations. He called the association out-of-touch and compromised by hidden agendas and internal politics. Everyone's known that for some time, of course. But Raven said it.Still, a good share of such outbursts are likely due to frustration. As Raven turns 40, he finds himself with a shelf full of No. 1 hits, but none of the awards and acclaim that have been showered on fellow performers such as George Strait, Randy Travis and Ricky Van Shelton.
The look in Raven's eye these days seems to say "What's keeping me from being a superstar?"
The answer is tricky. First, people tend to link Raven's name with another animal act, Eddie Rabbitt. And though he vocally sells a song with the best (listen to his work on "Joe Knows How to Live" and "I've Got Mexico"), his long hair, rock music roots and street-wise ways have yet to capture the imagination of country listeners.
And this new LP - tight and bright as it is - will be little help.
Like most of Raven's work, the music here is a sassy blend of pop-rock and country, with just a dash of Jimmy Buffet's salsa sound thrown in to season things.
A couple of the tunes have had radio play ("In a Letter to You," for one), but for the most part these songs are hot off the drawing board. All are competent, pleasant and even inventive, though none have the freshness of the best.
The driving drums on "Sooner or Later" stay with a listener, as do the Hawaiian steel guitar sounds on "Island." And there are fun and feisty lyrics on "Bayou Boys" and other numbers to warrant a second listen. But too many cliches - both with words and melody - eventually flatten things out.
It's true the finest songwriters tend to pitch their wares a little higher than Raven. Any songwriter worth his piano knows landing a song with Alabama, Kenny Rogers, Randy Travis or Reba McEntire guarantees a blockbuster and a big paycheck. So Raven - like other quarterdeck singers - usually ends up with material that's professional but somehow generic and impersonal; the type of song tunesmiths put at the end of the resume.
In all, however, "Temporary Sanity" will do nothing to harm Raven's solid reputation.
But it won't push him another rung up on the ladder.
And that, as mentioned before, is a frustration.