Maria McKee is not the first artist to have been chewed up and spit out by the recording industry. Her tale is full of poignant what-if’s and while the body of work is rich and moving, the solo albums constantly surprising and uplifting. Her band disintegrated quickly due to suits meddling in the studio, and a band was where she felt most at home.

The first self-titled album was presented in full certainty as a band with writing contributions from three members, promo materials and photos always as a four-piece, and videos filmed in performance as a team.

By the second album the industry powers-that-be had decided that Maria was the star, and the promotional material was her and her alone. It wrecked a dynamic partnership, and McKee made a go of a solo career before fleeing to Europe and an indie life — putting out great intimate records.

Two albums and a third collection of odds-and-sods is all that stands under the Lone Justice name. One listen to that debut and I was smitten, it still stands as a moment in the 80’s when heads turned, and music felt refreshed. 

The self-titled album begins with East of Eden, as Maria shouts, “should I go north” and the band yell back “no!”, south and west get the same answers.

A mid-tempo country rocker with drums powering the rhythm while Marvin Etzioni on bass and Ryan Hedgecock on guitar fill the spaces. McKee knows where her love resides and she gleefully shouts it out, East of Eden.

This Etzioni track is also powered by Heartbreaker Benmont Tench as he chimes in on organ and the energy is set in a two-minute burst. Track two is our first McKee composition, After the Flood, it’s a dark tale of a family’s home during a “once -in-a-lifetime” storm and McKee sings the “land that was washed away felt like my flesh and blood”.

The song has a gospel flavour and is powered by Tench’s organ and piano.

“A natural disaster can’t hold nothing on me” turns the song to a positive tone as McKee replants the trees that were destroyed.

It’s at this point where we must address that voice. Perhaps her most powerful tool, McKee is an accomplished songwriter, an energetic leader but wow, she is an unparalleled vocalist. Think of Aretha Franklin channeling Patsy Cline.

She whoops and hollers like an old-time heroine staying on the ragged edge of the right notes but twisting them with her passion. The voice carries both originals and other’s tunes to the upper reaches. This is very evident on track three, a gift from Tom Petty as his keyboard player was essentially a drafted band member and his longtime producer Shelly Yakus was behind the studio glass for this project.

Ways to Be Wicked was the earmarked single and it’s a tried-and-true Petty masterpiece. With that guitar figure and ringing organ backing her McKee sings “honey why you always smile when you see me hurt so bad”, It’s an epic chorus and McKee digs in, “I can take a little pain, I can hold it pretty well.”

Mike Campbell joins in on guitar and the energy builds and builds. It is interesting to hear the Tom Petty version with it’s done-me-wrong joy and the Lone Justice version with that pain gaining an edge simply because it is sung by a woman. This track is an instant classic and one of the pop rock moments of the 80’s. The following piece charts a course to honky-tonk heaven as the band lean into the old-time vibe they are capable of embracing.

Don’t Toss Us Away is a tear-in-the-beer country classic written by Bryan MacLean. A gently strummed guitar, a front porch feel and the catches and sobs in her voice turn this into a masterful performance. Patsy Cline couldn’t have done any better. A retro piano solo captures the mood perfectly and the silence has a presence as McKee sings the final lines “don’t let love die without a fight…I still love you, I want you to stay, darling please, don’t toss us away.”

Side one closes with the Etzioni track Working Late, a seeming throw-away that allows the band to explore their country-punk bonafides. The band chime in with backing vocals as a bunch of tobacco chewing hicks. Hedgecock gets to do a bit of a rave-up on guitar, and we somehow wind up in a square dance by the end. It is a silly, funny way to get us to flip the record over.

Side two starts with the strongest offering on the album, the soul stirring Sweet Sweet Baby written by McKee with help from Tench and Little Steven.

The video shows a whirling dervish of a frontwoman singing her heart out touching the church rafters as everything soulful about rock n’ roll is presented in a three minute classic. The guitars pierce, the organ fills our hearts, the backing vocals are a choir aimed right at our feels. I dare anyone to stay still as this is playing, you want to rise up and move. It’s what music is capable of.

McKee then presents Pass It On, another very strong offering with subtle backing from the guitar and bass leaving space for the lyrics about taking all that’s right with raising the next generation.

It is beautiful, heartfelt and decidedly not sappy. It’s unflinching and real, “keep the faith till the battle’s won, father to son, pass it on”. Ignored and mistreated in public, McKee next warns us Wait Til We Get Home, she’s “saving it up, gonna let it fly.” It’s funny and witty, and a little scary.

You don’t want to get on the wrong side of this powerhouse. The backing vocals echo her message, “making a list, gonna check it twice.” She needs more than an apology. Tench’s organ thrills and the guitars play all around it. The bass is her backing on the bridge, “don’t think that I don’t love you if I yell a little.”

The energy continues with Soap, Soup and Salvation McKee’s final masterpiece of the album. A gospel rave-up, we’re carried along as it touts the true spirit at the ”rescue mission,” the preacher pounds the pulpit but the real message is delivered by the soap and soup. “Tired hearts sing in jubilation,” “watch brother Randall wave that bible,” the drums pound as McKee wistfully sings “When the roll is called up yonder”, it’s a brilliant working in of the gospel moments at the southern missions. The album closes with Etzioni’s You Are the Light a valedictory salute, it could be to a partner, could be to a higher power, could be to the spirit of rock n’ roll.

It is simple, sparse and a lovely sign-off to a remarkable first effort from an enigmatic and powerful performer. Would that we had years and years of albums from Lone Justice. 

Charlotte County resident Stephen MacKnight works for Anglophone South & Working NB after a decade spent as a music teacher in the school system and twenty-five years in the music retail industry cycling through Sam the Record Man, Records on Wheels and CDPlus. There have been nominations from ECMA’s & Music NB as a band-member and songwriter. Passionate and opinionated about music Stephen loves when anyone wants to have a debate.