Jesse Sykes & The Sweet Hereafter Marble Son
Station Grey Records
At first listen, especially to one of her earlier albums, like Reckless Burning,Oh, My Girl, or Like, Love, Lust and the Open Hallways of the Soul, you wouldn’t think that Jesse Sykes would become a desirable figure in the world of heavy music (although she does look like a raven-haired mistress of the night), but thanks to her collaboration with Boris and SunnO))) on “The Sinking Belle” from Altar, the alt-country/indie singer/songwriter has made a name for herself amongst weirdos and beardos alike. In fact, she’s toured with bands like Earth and Black Mountain, and played at Roadburn, so whether it seems like a natural fit or not, the dark side has embraced Sykes, and now on her latest release, Marble Son, she’s embraced it right back. Truth be told, Sykes’ music (which she’s always made with longtime musical partner Phil Wandscher) has always contained darker elements, but never has that been more evident than on Marble Son, which sheds the alt-country vibe of albums past for a more psychedelic feel of melancholic finger-picking, mystical strumming, and distorted magic. In fact, all of that can be found on the eight-and-a-half-minute opener, “Hushed By Devotion,” which sets the tone for the rest of the album by acting as a giant rabbit hole into which you fall, and once the title track and “Come to Mary” sink their elegant claws into you, you’re adrift on the foggy river of Sykes’ wonderland of sorrow and beauty, and there’s no turning back. And that’s saying nothing of the addictive potion that is her voice, a kind of whiskey-owned siren call of hypnotic splendor that will toss you into thralldom on such songs as “Be it Me, Or Be it None” and “Wooden Roses.” Masterful stuff, really, as electric and powerful as it is lovely and languid, bound to nothing but its bold, broad appeal.
This debut album from Nashville trio Natural Child comes as advertised, a rusty, country-fried rock n’ roll record no doubt spurred on by the magic that went down at Villa Nellcote in the south of France during the druggy, exiled summer of its namesake. Bolstered by an abundance of Caucasian funk and half-baked whimsy, Natural Child freely saunter through eleven songs of bare-boned garage fuzz (“Easy Street,” “Hard Workin’ Man,” “Makin’ It,” “Natural Blues”), acoustic blues (“Woman C’mon,” “White People,” “Yer Birthday”), hazy jams (“Yoko,” “Let it Bleed,” “Beer”), and some punk-infused pop (“Chris’ Blues”), and ought to remind you of the Rolling Stones (natch), Lions in the Street, The White Stripes, and The Flaming Sideburns. You know, forty years removed and 1971 does a helluva job harnessing the kind of weird, organic rock that once served millionaires, dope fiends, and outlaws extremely well.
Graveyard seem to be a strange pick-up for metal label Nuclear Blast, but there were days before speed and aggression when the psychedelic blues riffs of bands like Led Zeppelin and Blue Cheer were considered heavy metal, so if you want to look at it that way, the foggy longhair tumult of the Gothenburg, Sweden quartet’s retro rock is plenty metal enough. Shaking with raw, analogous boogie-doom and acid-fried magic, Hisingen Blues, the band’s second album, is rarefied fuzzdom, a kind of electric catnip that makes bell-bottomed leaf hounds go bat-shit. Much like its self-titled predecessor, Hisingen Blues baits you into unconscious reminiscing thanks to a sound best received via vinyl’s hypnotizing spin. Although Graveyard find themselves essential players in a growing Euro-led 70s revival with bands like Witchcraft, Ghost, The Devil’s Blood, Dead Man, and Asteroid, they bypass the more flagrant ceremonial/occult vibes of some of those bands (although they’re not shy on the demonic themes) for a more straightforward rock n’ roll approach that might call to mind a candlelit version of latter-day Hellacopters. Songs like “Ain’t Fit to Live Here,” “Hisingen Blues,” “Buying Truth (Tack & Förlåt),” “Ungrateful Are the Dead,” and “RSS” are propelled by pelvic power and sorcerous solos, while songs like “No Good, Mr. Holden,” “Uncomfortably Numb,” “Longing,” and “The Siren” take a dip into murky, mystic waters, and all the while vocalist/guitarist Joakim Nilsson replies in kind with an impressive range that stretches from Plant to Pelander as the situation warrants (sometimes within the same song). I predict this one will gain a hell of a lot of traction before the year’s out, and that’s all right with me, friends, because when the weird inherit the Earth, we’ll have Graveyard to thank.
Check out the video for the title track from Hisingen Blues!
Jesse Sykes & The Sweet Hereafter
Natural Child
