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Twin Town High (vol. 8) |
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Chris Mills - Midwestern Sonic Heartbreaker
Wednesday 25 June @ 12:16:03 |
 by Rob van Alstyne
While Jeff Tweedy and Co. may be trying to break my heart and all, fellow Chicagoan Chris Mills has already accomplished the feat with his latest weepy stunner and fourth album overall, The Silver Line. Self-released on his own Powerless Pop Recorders label after former stellar indie imprint Sugar Free records went AWOL, the album finds Mills expanding on his throaty country rock and embracing a lavish Phil Spectoresque production aesthetic.
With assistance from pretty much everyone on the Chicago scene (various Sea and Cake collaborators and Califone debutantes abound in Mills’ backing group which he’s been known to call The City That Works) Mills hits this album clear out of the rock ’n’ roll ballpark. Although only a scant ten songs, (nine originals and a cover of quirky Canadian glam-rocker Hawksley Workman’s “Don’t Be Crushed”), The Silver Line covers more territory than some artists boxed sets contain.
The opening salvo of “The Silver Line” and “Suicide Note” make it clear that Mills, just 27, is already in full command of his songwriting powers. Boisterous horns and gorgeous female harmonies sugarcoat the dark message behind “Suicide Note’s” clever words; “Yeah play that suicide note, let it ring out loud and clear/ And let it be a warning, there’s only one way out of here.” Elsewhere gorgeous string arrangements lend weight to the already heavy emotional turf of acoustic ballads “Everything’s Gonna Be Cool” and “Diamond.” Those looking for the more foot stomping Mills of old will no doubt be pleased by the high quality of the few rockin’ numbers that do turn up on the record, in particular the anthemic “Sleeptalking.”
Mills continues to make good on the claim that adorned the cover of his 4-track recorded 1996 debut mini-album, Nobody’s Favorite, which proudly proclaimed itself, “Seven songs guaranteed to bring you right down.” Nobody’s Favorite and its 1998 full-length follow-up, the aptly titled Every Night Fight For Your Life, were raw affairs, with Mills’ ragged country yowl, a slightly less Appalachian take on Richard Buckner being the closest approximation of its sound, squarely in the center of the mix. The music was passionate and caught the ears of more than a few Uncle Tupelo devotees (coincidentally Mills grew up in Colinsville, Ill. a mere stones throw from the fellow working-class enclave of Belleville—childhood stomping ground of Tweedy and Farrar) but one would be lying to call Mills’ early music particularly groundbreaking. It was on 2000’s Kiss it Goodbye that Mills first began to hint at something grander than mere yeoman neo alt.-country blood flowing through his songwriting veins.
Working with a shoestring budget Mills nonetheless crafted a robust sound for record No. 3, and on standout cuts like the seven-minute outer space waltz of “Signal/Noise” made it clear that The White Album held just as much sway over his artistic endeavors as No Depression. Mills’ ever-caustic-yet-still-pained lyrical persona was also fully developed by this time, dropping lines like “Even if you wanted me I’m too drunk to fuck” with a tear in his winking eye. His evolution continues in earnest on The Silver Line and the new tunes Mills previewed at his most recent Twin Cities concert showed no signs of quality slippage.
Already acclaimed overseas (does it always have to work like that?) Mills continues to slug it out in the trenches stateside. His last local performance, a solo acoustic gig, was the kind of heartache heavy exorcism that I previously thought only Richard Buckner had the skills to pull off. This kid is the real deal.
Chris Mills (solo acoustic) plays on Fri., June 27, with Andrew Bird at the 7th Street Entry. 8 p.m. $8. 21+. 701 1st Ave. N., Mpls. 612-338-3388.
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