SONG OF THE WEEK: “I Can’t Get Behind That”
— William Shatner & Henry Rollins

Various Artists
Sunday Nights: The Songs Of Junior Kimbrough
(Fat Possum Records, 2005)

Here’s a rare treat from Fat Possum for fans of just about every popular modern genre of music you can think of—a collection of (mostly) contemporary artists brewing up a heady concoction of wildly disparate homages to the music of blues-man Junior Kimbrough. Kicking off (and ending with) the newly reformed Iggy & The Stooges, the record makes an immediate statement about both its roots and its intentions. The venerable Detroit area punk godfathers represent not only the beautiful (and necessary) melding and morphing of gut-bucket blues with skronky, punk/garage rock ’n’ roll, but also were one of initial musical inspirations for many of the artists joining them on this compilation.

Throughout the band’s first take on “You Better Run,” Kimbrough’s brutal, straightforward account of a violent rapist and his victim, Pop and the boys (the Asheton brothers, along with former Minutemen/fIREHOSE bassist Mike Watt) pound, shred and shriek out an even darker update on a dark and taboo subject. Typically, Pop tries to lighten things up a bit toward the end of the track, spoofing the original lines (and affecting a goofy female voice) into a celebration of his own sexuality: After a frightened woman comes to him for assistance from a potential rapist, he tells her she can have a ride, but she still might have to worry about being raped. At this point, she (really he) says, “Oh, Mister Pop! You don’t have to rape me, because I love you!!” Which might all sound slightly sinister (and certainly tasteless) if it were sung by, say, Joe Schmoe from Kokomo, but considering that (despite his mummified appearance and bizarre, muscle-bound body from the neck down) Mister Pop has never had any problem securing affection from the opposite sex, and that his edgy, sexually-charged sense of humor (Check out “Pussy Walk,” his cover of “Louie Louie,” or anything from Avenue “B,” and you’ll see what I mean) is well-known, tolerated, and even applauded, I guess here it’s just another rock ’n’ roll quirk. The group’s second run-through of the tune (last song on the disc) is tighter, harsher, and less carefree, as if the Ig-ster knew deep down that the subject matter was too heavy to leave as is, and it shows. Cool stuff from the new/old Stooges.

Other standouts here include Spiritualized’s alternately dreamy/jarring take on “Sad Days And Lonely Nights,” which showcases a harder edge to that band than anything I’ve ever heard before; “Done Got Old” by Heartless Bastards; and The (excellent!) Black Keys’ rendition of “My Mind Is Ramblin.’ The Fiery Furnaces slip in a skittering, jittery cover of “I’m Leaving”; Pete Yorn (who seems to be on damn near every good tribute album coming out lately—that’s not a bad thing, either) drops a bouncy, jangly version of “I Feel Good Again,” but things really start to heat up about halfway through the album.

Entrance and Cat Power come slinking in, reeking of hot sex and spilled rye whiskey, their voices wrapping around each other like desperate lovers in “Do The Romp,” a classic blues riff augmented by each singers’ distinct aural presence. I’ve gotta say, I knew Cat Power was hot, but this stuff nearly melted the ol’ disc player—wowza!! Entrance is an up-and-coming young whippersnapper who’s also on Fat Possum, and we’ll be looking at his recent album, Wandering Stranger, in the next few weeks, but for now, this cut is one I keep coming back to over and over again—and methinks you will, too.

Former Screaming Tree Mark Lanegan contributes “All Night Long,” a fine and spine-tingling number (but no real surprise if you’ve ever heard some of his solo stuff, particularly his take on “In The Pines,” which matches or surpasses Cobain’s live rendition, in my opinion); the absolutely slammin’ Thee Shams put out big-time with the harp-augmented “Release Me”; the always entertaining and frequently trippy Jim White doesn’t disappoint here, doing a completely different version of “Done Got Old” than the one Heartless Bastards did, replete with freaky electronic squeedles and blips, hypnotic flute sounds, and soaring organ mingling with herky-jerky rhythms and scratchy guitars. Amazing.

There’s really not a dud in this batch. The album closes out with Outrageous Cherry doing a delectably dirty deed on “Lord Have Mercy On Me,” Whitey Kirst’s mind-blowing, lascivious take on “Pull Your Clothes Off,” and Jack Oblivian romping through a sweet, countrified version of “I’m In Love With You.” Last but not least (not including the final, second version of The Stooges doing “You Better Run,” which we already covered), and certainly one of the most scathing, effective tributes to the eclectic, powerful blues sounds of Mr. Kimbrough, is the Ponys’ riveting, pounding, fiery shout-out of “Burn In Hell,” a bad-moon-on-the-rise ditty that hearkens back to the hellfire-and-brimstone blues of Robert Johnson and his ilk. Truly powerful stuff, and highly recommended. You can also find a good portion of Junior Kimbrough’s catalog on Fat Possum, as well as a whole passel of equally talented artists, including our own Grandpa Boy. Whether you’re into blues, punk, country, indie, emo, rock or just plain old good music, this album covers all the bases and more—check it out!!

Kingdom Of Ghosts
Shakedown
(SMA, 2004)

Singer/songwriter/guitarist/drummer Glen Mattson’s latest offering, Shakedown, sees him continuing down the Johnny Thunders-meets-Dee Dee Ramone trail he’s been willingly slogging down for the past few years (decades?). That’s a good thing, here anyway. Glen (who put his time in behind the drum kit over the years, both with The Glenrustles and on his own) has a great knack for writing a growling, picture-purr-fect pop nugget, with just the right amount of street-cred spin on ‘em. KOG’s (Glen’s joined by old pal/Peasants co-founder Keith St. Louis on bass and drummer Kurt Allis, although Allis was recently replaced by Mike Edwards) first album featured a cover of Thunders’ “Sad Vacation,” a perfect jumping-off point (along with any Ramones tunes sung or penned by Dee Dee) in sussing Mattson’s inspirations and style, but this effort finds both he and the band beginning to balance the wonderful sonic aberrations of those influences with his own distinct vocal and lyrical gifts in a grand way. Standout tracks here include the title cut, “Rest And Peace,” “Hundred Horses,” (which sounds like Jack Logan on steroids and gin—that, too, is a good thing), “Trains Run On Time,” (a personal fave), and “The Loneliest Monk.” The final two cuts, though, “She Gets Depressed” and “Whimper,” prove that Mattson, though an old-school garage/punker in his heart, is a hopeless romantic deep in his soul. And hell, the very fact that a hard-ass rock ’n’ roller like Mattson would end a raucous, rollicking, fuzzed-out album full of high-lonesome howls and hollers, greasy gut-bustin’ guitars and booty-bumpin’ boom-booms with a melancholy, too-late-for-love wound-licker like “Whimper” shows that he (and the band) are about the most well-rounded, even-keeled freak-rock outfit you’ll ever come across. And that’s more than I can say for most of his more famous contemporaries in the “genre.” As he says in one of the song’s final lines, “... them dogs don’t howl no more, no, they just whimper now and then ...” Keep howlin’, Glen.

That’s all the space we’ve got this week, gang. Tune in next time for a whole armada of new reviews, rock ’n’ roll news, and timely tid-bits. Until we meet again—make yer own damn news!!

If you have local music news/gigs/events/CDs you’d like to see mentioned in this column, or you’d just like to complain that you still haven’t received your “Howard Dean—Head Hyena of the DNC!” sticker yet, send replies to: (temporary e-mail) jamescrouch_1@juno.com. ||