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WILSON GIL & THE WILLFUL SINNERS
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I can definitely see “American Banned” growing on me. Hopefully I’m beyond the long dark night of the soul era of my life, but if I ever have another one, this’ll probably end up on the desperate top ten. And hey, as Kris Kristofferson once said, “If it sounds country, man, that’s what it is. It’s a country song.” A very rock n’ roll sorta country, but country nonetheless. This is Americana for our America, the fucked-up, busted and broken one, the one where all we got left is each other and a battered ol’ guitar. Good shit, this. ________________________________________________________ |
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-Sleazegrinder |
Wilson
Gil is a longtime San Fran rock scenester, a corpse-hauler by day, and
a gratefully recovering ex-addict. Wilson Gil knows all about death and
redemption and rock n’ roll, brother. No wonder, then, that “American
Banned”, the second album from his scruffy Americana/cowpunk
outfit the Willful Sinners, addresses all three. It’s a rich and
stirring tribute to the end of the road, and a guide for how to find your
way back from it. Gil’s honest croon is somewhere between John Doe
and Roky Erickson in tone, if not temperament, and he warbles hard luck
tales like “Twinkies and Speed” and "Top Story”
like a man who really knows what it’s like to have the devil whispering in
your ear. That's because he does. Musically, the Sinners exhibit a light
touch when they have to, as on the heartbreaking “Get a Song”,
or the honkytonking “Last Drinking Song”, but they’re just
as adept at bashing out howling, mud in the eye rock n’ roll, like the
Jello-meets-the-Supersuckers stomper “Bad Reputation”. And
for every moment of darkness, there’s light and life and humor. All the
stuff you used to expect from a rock n’ roll record, but rarely get
anymore.