With a quarter century hindsight, it’s time to declare Echo (released 4/13/99) the great unsung album of Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers. Fifteen tracks running sixty-two some minutes might’ve seemed like a bit much at the time of its original release, but with extended perspective, this last effort to be (co) produced by Rick Rubin–along with TP himself and Mike Campbell–is just long enough to tell the whole (often sad) story from start to finish.
This tenth album of the group is a testament to the raw talent of musicians who, at this point, had honed their craft to the point they could shore up their leader in the face of adverse circumstances. And it’s an achievement of equal stature when considering that the internal dynamics of the band itself were in flux at that time.
Indeed, the lineup had somewhat stabilized when Steve Ferrone permanently took over from the original drummer, Stan Lynch, this change coming after the former had played on much of 1994’s Wildflowers. In addition, after some substantial time on the road with Petty and company, multi-instrumentalist/vocalist Scott Thurston debuted with them in the studio.
Notwithstanding Tom’s own slightly disengaged state of mind (ostensibly the reason Rubin departed early), the fractious nature of Echo thus centered mostly on bassist/vocalist Howie Epstein’s issues. His contributions to singing and playing on the record were erratic at best–he is missing from the album’s cover photo because he failed to show up for the photo shoot–especially compared to the tangible elements of chemistry he supplied beginning in 1982 upon the departure of original bassist Ron Blair (who returned to the fold the year before his counterpart’s passing in 2003).
The sequencing of the tracks renders the internal narrative of Echo wholly logical. Generally quiet as is “Room At The Top,” it’s as defiant in tone as anything Petty’s ever written, including “I Won’t Back Down.” And while this opener is not the usual upbeat tune designed to grab a listener–at least during the verses as the author almost whispers the words–when the volume goes up, the flourishes of electric guitar playing seem to drive home the point of the lyric as well as the tone of TP’s vocal.
Compare all that with the casual braggadocio of “Free Girl Now” (notable for being the second single by a major artist to be made available for free internet download.) Tom shouts more than he sings and in the drawls of his phrasing, he drops multiple hints of Dylan’s way of singing (fittingly since the sentiment of this tune echoes “Can You Please Crawl Out Your Window” from 1965). Appropriately too, guitars chime raggedly while the rhythm section gleefully hammers away.
“Swingin'” is just as deliberate, if only deceptively so. The elocution of Tom’s singing is consistently emphatic, while the muted harmony voices, one of the few such intervals here, sound like the ghosts of second thoughts floating around his psyche.
Keyboardist Benmont Tench and guitarist Mike Campbell step in, then up, to provide a dual roadmap for the frontman there.
The short, scathing fretboard solo offsets the dignity of the former’s acoustic piano. And, with each repeat of the refrain, the pugnacious intent of the tune becomes all the more clear with the name-dropping that includes those of big band leader Tommy Dorsey and boxer Sonny Liston.
Petty and the Heartbreakers’ long-term instrumental relationships also stand them in good stead on the title song. The natural ease with which the dismissive lyrics roll off Tom’s tongue resonates like the essence of melancholy. In marked contrast is “Won’t Last Long:” Petty sounds like he’s trying to convince himself of the sentiment at the heart of the song and, in summoning up all the optimism he can muster, he’s able to divert some of that stout attitude to the band and it ultimately permeates their playing.
As such, the musicianship is as convincing as the lead voice. Benmont’s picturesque organ backdrop is the high point of the track and the same is true of Mike’s fretboard spotlight on “I Don’t Wanna Fight” (perhaps because this composition of his own is also his sole lead vocal in the history of the group.
The final song of Echo, “One More Day, One More Night,” is a capsule summary of the longplayer’s prevailing mood of struggle. There’s a begrudging resilience to the writing, playing, and singing, so much so that the slightly less-than-perfect clarity of sound seems to mirror the mental fog afflicting the project at various points. In that light, this selection’s cold stops are jarring.
The trenchant “Billy The Kid” is something else again, however, a rare moment of self-awareness where the musicians sing and play with utter panache. Having gained, then retained their collective focus, Petty and the Heartbreakers interweave electric and acoustic guitars on “No More.” Yet despite those deft touches, the track becomes just one of more than a few moments on Echo that is difficult to hear; perhaps that’s because, amid the stylish arrangement featuring a pointed dobro part, Tom sounds blunt to a fault.
On the other hand, “Counting On You,” comes off tentative. Except, that is, when Campbell is twisting off his lead guitar fills and Tench is flicking notes from his electric piano. Ferrone’s metronomic drumbeats serve the indispensable purpose of shoring up the performance, though, so much so it’d be interesting to know if this is one cut where Campbell plays bass.
While it may sound glib to label Echo as Tom Petty’s ‘divorce album,’ it is much more of a direct reflection of that painful process than the self-professed confessional that is his aforementioned second solo album from five years prior. Still in the throes of that emotional turmoil, but faced with pressing contractual obligations, when the native Floridian led his band out on tour to support Echo, the setlists contained little from it.
TP himself is quoted as saying he was surprised at how much he liked upon hearing the record years later. The effect may well be the same for listeners upon their return(s) to this woefully unsung entry into the late, great rocker’s discography.
