By Richard Ludmerer
Randy Lee Riviere is more than just a musician—he’s also a wildlife biologist who has dedicated much of his life to preserving the natural world. That sense of responsibility toward land and culture weaves directly into his music. The title of his latest album, Farmhand Blues, nods to the toll human development has taken on Western watersheds.
Music, however, has always been an equal part of Riviere’s life. Splitting his time between Montana and outside of Nashville, he writes songs that reflect both his love of wild landscapes and his reflections on the human condition. Though he calls himself a “country boy at heart,” his influences lean heavily into the classic rock era of the ’60s and ’70s, especially ZZ Top’s Tres Hombres. For this album, he teamed up once again with Grammy-winning producer Tom Hambridge, who co-wrote eight of the album’s fifteen tracks while also handling drums, percussion, and backing vocals. The band includes Doug Lancio, Bob Britt, and Michael Saint-Leon on guitars (with Saint-Leon also adding harmonica), Mike Rojas on keyboards, and Robert Kearns on bass. Together, they create a big, roots-rock sound with plenty of grit and groove.
The record kicks off with “Downtown,” an uptempo blues rocker with a playful edge. Riviere tells the story of a mountain man bringing his songs to town, singing, “Downtown where the music sounds so fine and I can show off some of mine,” over a swaggering guitar line that’s tailor-made for the dance floor.
That momentum continues with “Big on a Bender,” a gritty, hard-driving rocker filled with raw, streetwise imagery. Lines like “Ever need a piss jar handcuffed in the backseat of a cop car? I feel a bender coming down” highlight Riviere’s unfiltered storytelling style.
The title track, “Farmhand Blues,” takes a more direct approach, spotlighting the backbreaking labor of California farm workers: “I work all day in the California sun, it’s not a lot of fun…I got the farmhand blues, what’s one to do?” It’s an anthem for the working class wrapped in a gritty, blues-rock package.
Lighter moments appear with “Bird Watching,” where Riviere adds a touch of humor and wordplay: “They got colors red and blue. Orange and white too. But ain’t showing off for you…I’m goin’ bird watching.”
On “Alabama,” Riviere channels Neil Young & Crazy Horse with a straight-ahead rocker built on fuzzed-out guitars. He moans, “She’s so fine, keep my head in line, Alabama…She got her way take my breath away.”
“Linden Lane” slows the pace with a sentimental, Southern-tinged tribute to a couple who embody resilience and love: “There’s a man and a woman there, who care about everything everywhere. They tell stories in the candle light.”
The late-night ballad “Moonlight” brings aching slide guitar and haunted lyrics about a fleeting encounter: “She left me cold got no warning. I was playing blues all night until the morning than watched cartoons with the mother crowing, afternoons were for horseshoe throwing.”
With “Cynical,” the mood shifts into psychedelic acid-rock territory, as Riviere belts out, “do you see them in the sun they want to take your dream, If we had just one word it would be cynical.”
The introspective “If I Were King” offers a piano-driven reflection on power, friendship, and family: “If I were king with fancy horses and castles…would I still have friends?” The soaring slide guitar solo elevates it into one of the album’s most powerful moments.
“Mother Lee” expands the sonic landscape with swirling instrumentation and impassioned vocals: “This life you give ain’t for me.”
One of the album’s most poignant tracks, “December 1980,” recalls the day John Lennon was assassinated. Over a greasy shuffle, Riviere mourns: “I turned on the radio, I heard they shot my brother down…he was an angel, so sweet as he could be.”
“You Ain’t No Loving Woman” is a sad but tender ballad about love and betrayal, confessing, “You ain’t no loving woman for a lovin’ man, but you shine…your touch is so sweet when you’re lying next to me.”
“Pecos” lightens the mood with a cowboy-styled rocker dedicated to his horse, “You can’t jump this ditch but I know you got that itch, Whoa there horse don’t go faster. Hold on horse you ornery bastard”, while “On My Way Down” offers a reflective, almost fatalistic view from rock bottom. The closer, “Dovetail Joints,” is a bittersweet ode to honest labor and everyday folks, sung with warmth and gratitude. “It’s the 4th of July, fireworks below and way up high. Here they all vote stand in line with all the old folks”
Farmhand Blues marks Riviere’s fourth solo outing, following 2019’s Wyoming, 2021’s Blue Sky, and 2024’s Concrete Blues. With Hambridge once again at the helm, Riviere continues to evolve as a songwriter while staying true to his rugged, rootsy style. It’s an album that blends grit, humor, and heartfelt storytelling, delivered with a band that plays like they’re on fire. Riviere may split his time between science and song, but here, both worlds merge—his passion for the land and the human spirit come through loud and clear.