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On a recent holiday with friends, we had a brief panic on arrival
as no one could get their iPods to work through the speakers on
the villa’s stereo. It was soon solved, but not before the
shout went up, “who has CDs?” Step forward yours truly
– only to be pilloried for the selection I had brought. Rather
harsh I thought, given that I had only brought them in case I needed
solace and solitude from the iPod onslaught. It did make me think,
though, that maybe my taste in music has leaned toward the morose
and moody in recent times.
If that’s the case with you then you’ll find James Apollo’s
second album quite a laugh with its Wild West flavours, flummoxed
Latino rhythms, bourbon drenched guitars and weary romantic vocals.
Whilst I admit it’s not exactly party music, ‘Good Grief’
has a tense spaghetti-poker-room atmosphere that you’d have
to be truly miserable not to appreciate.
Apollo establishes his singer-songwriter credentials early with
‘Alamo’, which could be Damien Rice on holiday in New
Orleans the Deep South. If that is starting to put you off, don’t
worry: ‘Spring Storm’ is a joyful uptempo jam and ‘Dead
Men Weigh More’ is a lilting acoustic ballad in which James
threatens to kill himself unless his lover returns. All tongue in
cheek.
‘Libertyville’ has pencil-tapping military drums and
a gorgeously subtle arrangement – what is that instrument
bobbling in the back of the mix? This is almost a pop song but hang
on, here comes ‘Long Rope’ where “it all turns
back to dust”, and haunting organ accompanies our high plains
drifter through another day of lonely thinking.
The album drifts dangerously close to pointless pastiche on ‘Mercenary
Tango’, ‘Neko’ and ‘Loneliness’ but
generally stays the right side of ridiculous; maintaining a humorous
brooding tone, just check out ‘All the Pretty’, which
I think is written and performed by Apollo’s faithful but
knackered old steed.
One day I will get round to buying an iPod, and I’ll put this
album on it and be instantly transported to a dusty old wild west
town where I’ll undoubtedly lose all my money and get my head
kicked in. Seriously though, this isn’t miserable music.
words: Roger Hadwen
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