Over the course of 13 albums, Eliza Gilkyson has built a reputation as one of the most original and influential folk artists of our time. Her latest release, Paradise Hotel (August 2005, Red House Records), is arguably her best thus far.

Gilkyson was born in Los Angeles, where dad Terry was a successful songwriter with hits like "Memories Are Made of This," which Dean Martin took to #1 on the charts, and "Bare Necessities" from Disney's The Jungle Book. Brother Tony spent a decade with influential LA-based punk band X. Sister Nancy chose the business side and ascended through major-label executive ranks.

But Eliza had to leave California to define her own path. She spent time in New Mexico and Europe before moving to Austin, which she has called home for more than two decades. She built a respectable fan base along the way, but her career hit full stride in 2000 with Hard Times in Babylon. Lost and Found (2002) and Land of Milk and Honey (2004) further raised her industry visibility and garnered valuable radio airplay.

Gilkyson is understandably proud of her latest creation, Paradise Hotel.

"This is a record that even I can listen to." She laughs, and then explains, "I usually don't listen to my own records. But I'm really happy with every song on this one."

While Gilkyson is correct in saying there isn't a weak link in Paradise Hotel, there is one song that immediately stands out from the others.

"Man of God" (listen), with its hard-hitting criticism of the Bush regime, is sure to generate the most attention—and controversy.

Gilkyson has written critically about politics before, even the Iraqi war ("Hiway 9" on Land of Milk and Honey). But "Man of God" is an open attack on President Bush and perceived inconsistencies between his actions and his professed moral code.

The cowboy came from out of the west
With his snakeskin boots and his bulletproof vest
Gang of goons and his big war chest
Fortunate son he was doubly blessed
Corporate cronies and the chiefs of staff
Bowing to the image of the golden calf
Startin' up wars in the name of God's son
Gonna blow us all the way to kingdom come
Man of God, man of God
That ain't the teachings of a man of God
(From "Man of God" by Eliza Gilkyson)

"The actions of this regime do not follow the teachings of Christ, what I call real Christianity," she says.

And the blame extends beyond the President to his right-wing fundamentalist support base.

"I just don't appreciate the religious right acting like I don't love God and my country just because I'm not in their corner," says Gilkyson.

Ultimately, "Man of God" is a classic folk song of protest. It's a musical objection to an unjust war, hypocritical leadership, and the entire military-industrial complex that aided Bush's ascent to the presidency and has since profited from the war.

"I'm mad," says Gilkyson. "And I want other people to be mad about this too."

Clearly she's not alone. Gilkyson recruited an all-star lineup of Austin musicians to lend their voices on the chorus, including Ray Wylie Hubbard, Marcia Ball, Slaid Cleaves, and Shawn Colvin.

"I think everybody who joined me really feels as strongly about this as I do," she says.

Audiences have shown impressive support for the song as well. Gilkyson describes public reaction as "pretty hair-raising actually—in a good way."

Following "Man of God" is "Jedidiah 1777" (listen), which Gilkyson based on correspondence from ancestral grandfather Jedidiah Huntington, a soldier in the Revolutionary War. While Huntington rose to major general and became a noted historical figure, the Harvard-educated lawyer had risked everything by joining the colonial army.

The Revolutionary War was, in Huntington's own words, a "necessary war"—a striking contrast to Gilkyson's depiction of the Iraqi war in "Man of God."

"I put them right next to each other on purpose," she says. "I don't know that people will make the connection between the two songs, but I certainly hope they do."

While war and politics make the biggest splash on Paradise Hotel, they don't figure directly into the album's most powerful song.

"Requiem" (listen) is a poignant memorial to the victims of last December's tsunamis. Based on the traditional Catholic remembrance of the dead, the song invokes Mary to protect and comfort the survivors.

Mother Mary, full of grace, awaken
All our homes are gone, our loved ones taken
Taken by the sea
Mother Mary, calm our fears, have mercy
Drowning in a sea of tears, have mercy
Hear our mournful plea
Our world has been shaken
We wander our homelands forsaken
In the dark night of the soul
Bring some comfort to us all
Oh mother Mary come and carry us in your embrace
That our sorrows may be faced
(From "Requiem" by Eliza Gilkyson)

Gilkyson composed the song in the immediate aftermath of the tsunamis as a way to help herself and others mourn.

"'Requiem' is a vehicle by which people can grieve," she says. "Sometimes we don't have ways to trigger the process of grieving. Music gives us a safe environment for grieving."

While Gilkyson isn't Catholic, nor were most of those affected by the tsunamis, she built the song around Mary because of her significance as a model of compassion.

"Mary is such a strong, compassionate icon, one of the strongest female archetypes we have today," she says. "I researched all types of female archetypes—Muslim, Buddhist, and so on—and I kept coming back to Mary."

While the lyrics are moving by themselves, the pairing of Gilkyson and daughter Delia Castillo on vocals heightens the emotional impact.

"I honestly wouldn't have done the song if she hadn't done it with me," Gilkyson says. "That's one of the things that makes this song work, the blending of older and younger voices."

Because Gilkyson regards Castillo's contribution as essential, she typically does not include "Requiem" in her set list.

While war and politics are not part of "Requiem," they did factor into Gilkyson's motivation for writing the song.

She believes the current administration's policies breed insularity and an America-first attitude. The tsunamis provided a stark reminder that ours is an interconnected world.

"We can't isolate ourselves from countries, cities, neighborhoods—anything," Gilkyson says. "We need to invoke the very best in people. We need to uncover our compassion. One way we can do that is through the musical language."

Gilkyson has demonstrated impressive command of the musical language in recent years.

2004's Land of Milk and Honey was Grammy® nominated for Best Contemporary Folk Album. Paradise Hotel is at least its equal.

"I think it's a better record," Gilkyson says. "It's really an evolutionary step forward."

Will that translate into another Grammy nomination—or even a Grammy win?

"I don't think about that," she says. "I don't know what makes something fly. I do love getting the acknowledgment from my peers. That really means a lot to me.

"At least I'm on the radar now," she adds. "I've never been on the radar screen before."

Patrick Nichols (email)
This Is Texas Music
August 2005