Wiretap Records – 29 Sep 2022
There’s Still Heart N’ Soul In Rock N’ Roll
Not gonna lie, I’ve been sitting on this one for a while but this is the kind of record that I just had to spend time with, let it marinate in my mind. Every listen opened a new door, another aspect that was hidden in the spin before. There’s so many pieces to the puzzle that, though I knew immediately it would be one of my favorites from last year, I couldn’t untangle the intricacies of the album so easily and I still can’t exactly put my finger on it but they’ve manage to weave together a wonderful blend of emotion soaked in sarcasm and whimsy that’s relatable and original all at once. They seem to be influenced as much by Neil Young as they are Nightmarathons, from Two Cow Garage to Tom Petty. As they say, everything old becomes new again, and Limb is poised to become akin to it’s counterparts.
The introduction is Interestingly structured and immediately grabs my attention, inviting focus and intrigue but feeling familiar. “Dead Birds” is stuffed with sarcastic perspectives, distorted guitars, and creamy keys slipped subtly into the background. Is that a Hammond I hear in there? “Siren Sound” is a good old fashioned feeler that’s lyrically driven, the strings merely serving as a frame for the sentiments being sung while “Living Boy” blurs the lines between classic and contemporary. The intro sounds a little like Austin Lucas covering AC/DC but that takes a certain amount of mental gymnastics, maybe Pearl Jam‘s “Yellow Ledbetter” is a more accurate comparison but it starts off with some soft two chord strumming which gives way to an open aired bridge and an electrified chorus complete with a blues inspired solo. “Town Of Cats” is more on the simplistic side of their songwriting if there is such a thing but still more of the same in a satisfactory way ending abruptly and I find myself wanting more…
I often times find myself comparing bands to TCG as they were my first foray into whiskey tinged alt punk and there are definitely comparisons to be made here but the similarities to Cory Branan and Jeff Riddle (The Holy Mess, Five Hundred Bucks) are apparent as well. With warm arpeggiated guitar strings being the introduction to “Still Awake,” the song itself stomps along slowly, beating just as the heart does when connected to the soul. It’s not often you hear a horn section within this genre (sub-genre?) of music but here we are and I applaud the addition as it feels more dynamically dramatic and not at all out of place. Continuing on an experimental slant with “A Slow Blip” there’s the subtle sounds of a xylophone while the rhythm’s tapped out on the snare rim alongside a sparkling clean riff with just a hint of jazz but the guitar gains a little grit in the chorus which is accompanied by a wandering vocal run soaked in a slight southern drawl as the song flows seamlessly into “Clumsy Fingers.” Is it the end of the beginning or the beginning of the end? “She says I wanna go to heaven what if heaven says no?” With silky backing vocals that sound as if they’re sung by the adoring crowd juxtaposed with a gravelly lead vocal, it’s storyteller style songwriting at its finest.
I’m certainly a sucker for a solid falsetto and If there’s a barn burner on the record this has to be it. “King of Shame” continually gets built up and broken down throughout the duration of the dirty little ditty with another appearance by the brilliance of brass. The song ebbs and flows between the rhythm section in the valleys to the feel of big band at its peaks. Like Sly and the Family Stone it kinda makes me wanna “Dance to the Music.” It could have easily accompanied McCauly Culkin‘s performance in My Girl. A tiny bit of booty shaking before getting back to what they do best. “Let’s Quit Together” cascades complete with palm mutes on a Hot Rod Deluxe (speculation of course), blues laden leads and belly baked vocals. It’s a beaut of a bop and I’m hearing parallels to New Junk City? Speaking of cities, they wander into “Motor City ‘03” which is a little different in that there’s a distinct dissonance in the chorus and lead licks that delivers a darker vibe and feels charmingly chaotic. Soft spoken like Jon Mayer before throat surgery, it’s a little like elementary math rock for the Everyman but they’ve finally reached the city limits and “The Moon” feels heavy but it’s a fabulous way to finish, the cherry on top of the soul slathered sundae savored at sundown on the outskirts of town after a scorching summer day.
There’s definitely some diversity in their discography and they’ve come a long way since their beginnings with Bearable. They’ve ditched the double time drum beats for an eclectic ensemble, growing and maturing as musicians and songwriters and it’s almost as if my musical tastes and I have done so right alongside them. However, there’s still a massive amount of continuity after all these years of construction and they’ve managed to build an ornate cathedral on the grounds of days gone by. They’re a little like a midwestern boys choir comprised of Marlboro Men and I love that they all lend their voices, both alone and in unison.
The guitar tones are often times somewhere between the Goldilocks zone, that sweet spot just on the edge of breakup, and slightly overdriven. Sometimes clean while others delightfully dirty. The drums and bass a driving force, the ties that bind, and the added instrumentation is integral in creating the essence of the album which sets itself apart from previous iterations of their work. This may be the most experimental music I’ve seen from them so far but they weren’t exactly making cookie cutter rock n’ roll to begin with. Easter eggs are hidden throughout and, if you aren’t listening closely, you could easily miss the minutiae that make it special. There’s an analogy to the layers of an onion in there somewhere…
In the end, it’s carefully curated, conceptualized, and cautiously crafted with an interconnectedness and cohesion that only the chemistry found in friendship can create while staying true to their collective artistic visions. They may have evolved but they haven’t forgotten where they came from and they’re not drawing chalk lines around their former selves, they’re making murals for their future.
Jerred Lazar is a make believe musician and wannabe writer attempting to survive in Washington DC
