ROSETTA WEST Illumination Self-released ________________________________________________________
Joseph Demagore and
the fellas return with a skeletal feast of broken-man blooze and slithery
desperation rock straight out of an Illinois bat cave somewhere. S’funny,
last year’s “X Descendant” album sounded positively ancient, production
wise, full of boomy echo and snapping electricity, but this one is even
MORE lo-fi, a skin n’ bones affair seemingly written in blood and
left to dry on the walls. There’s nothing for the band to hide behind
here, it’s just tape hiss and deep, dark white man’s blues. But in the
hands of Demagore, that’s plenty. As I have stated before, I believe in this cat’s
sound. His version of the way-it-is is deadly accurate, and his
gut-bucket, Phil Lynott-meets-the-gutter delivery is a living, breathing
testament to the power of the man-on-fire testimonial. For proof, dig the
thick, Cream-y scuzz-fuzz of “Fuckin’ With My Head”, or the swampy goth-boogie
stomp of “The Vampire Song”, or the gently strummed acoustic heartbreak of
closer “By My Side”. It’s the real deal, this one. I imagine the folks who
expected a money-driven gloss-job on the next Rosetta West album, ala The
Black Keys, will either be thrilled or crestfallen that “Illumination” is
pure basement tapes, but fuck those people anyway. Demagore can record the
next one in the subway during rush hour if he wants, and it’ll still sound
like the blues, baby. Oh, and there’s some covers in this one, too – Aretha
Franklin, Johnny Kidd and the Pirates, and Beck. Chew on
THAT one for
awhile.
Joseph Demagore and
the fellas return with a skeletal feast of broken-man blooze and slithery
desperation rock straight out of an Illinois bat cave somewhere. S’funny,
last year’s “X Descendant” album sounded positively ancient, production
wise, full of boomy echo and snapping electricity, but this one is even
MORE lo-fi, a skin n’ bones affair seemingly written in blood and
left to dry on the walls. There’s nothing for the band to hide behind
here, it’s just tape hiss and deep, dark white man’s blues. But in the
hands of Demagore, that’s plenty. As I have stated before, I believe in this cat’s
sound. His version of the way-it-is is deadly accurate, and his
gut-bucket, Phil Lynott-meets-the-gutter delivery is a living, breathing
testament to the power of the man-on-fire testimonial. For proof, dig the
thick, Cream-y scuzz-fuzz of “Fuckin’ With My Head”, or the swampy goth-boogie
stomp of “The Vampire Song”, or the gently strummed acoustic heartbreak of
closer “By My Side”. It’s the real deal, this one. I imagine the folks who
expected a money-driven gloss-job on the next Rosetta West album, ala The
Black Keys, will either be thrilled or crestfallen that “Illumination” is
pure basement tapes, but fuck those people anyway. Demagore can record the
next one in the subway during rush hour if he wants, and it’ll still sound
like the blues, baby. Oh, and there’s some covers in this one, too – Aretha
Franklin, Johnny Kidd and the Pirates, and Beck. Chew on
THAT one for
awhile.