steve wilson
Album review: Bloodbirds - MMXIII
(Photo by Todd Zimmer)
Twenty-year veterans of the LFK/KC underground music scene, Mike and Brooke Tuley have played with a number of bands familiar to local rock audiences. Best known for their time with Ad Astra Per Aspera, they established Bloodbirds in 2011 with the intent of cutting loose and shaking things up.
And they have. Dense, dark—equal parts Fun House (Stooges), Spacemen 3 and Black Angels—Bloodbirds’ newest release MMXIII may also be their swan song, given the departure of bassist Anna St. Louis for Chicago. In some ways, it is St. Louis whose playing defines the band. Forward in the mix, and by no means shy, St. Louis plays with punchy authority, reminding of some of the other great “lead” bass players like Jon Entwistle and Peter Hook. Brooke Tuley is a powerful drummer; her parts are simple, but dead-on. She locks perfectly with St. Louis. Mike Tuley plays on top of their aggressive foundation, a canvas for his arsenal of shimmering hammer-ons (“Modern Sympathy”), punishing riffs (“Did You Say”), and sometime dulcet tones (the comparatively clean Blue Mask jangle of “Convalesce”). Depending on the song, his sound can be metal harrowing or as ropey, surf-psychedelic as the theme from Repo Man.
About those songs: they’re functional, gripping, emotional soundscapes, not necessarily bound by pop hook conventions. They hit you with the shape-shift intensity of vintage heavy rock like Blue Cheer or modern darkness merchants like Black Rebel Motorcycle Club. Which is to say the focus here is not necessarily on hum-ability. Even allowing for that, it would be nice if the vocals had a dash less delay density and a bit more clarity in the mix. Lyrics and vocals on MMXIII are more about mood than meaning (or mood as meaning), stray lyrics emerging from the driving murk to arrest your conscious mind here and again.
The tough thump of “No Trains Coming Through” totally belies the song’s title. With Roky’s manic intensity, the song “Did You Say” features the ominous, repeated line “Did you say you want the end to come right now?” And the music echoes the sentiment. “Round Moon’s” cascade of guitar features some of Tuley’s most expressive fretwork, summoning up the incantations of bands like the Icarus Line and the guitar howl of the Stooges’ Ron Asheton. For an album that emphasizes a certain heavy-osity, MMXIII manages to shift mood and tone effectively.
Brothers and sisters, the Bloodbirds can make a show-stopping addition to anybody’s Psych Fest. Live shows may be few and far between, given the departure of St. Louis, but they have reunited in support of MMXIII occasionally and the members remain close friends and open to the odd gig. Go catch them if you have the chance.
—Steve Wilson
Album review: The Blessed Broke - Ladders Out of Purgatory
Kansas City’s Blessed Broke has a beautifully crafted American Gothic sound. Ladders Out of Purgatory is the band’s second album. This is music at once dark and lovely. Singer and songwriter Brian Frame is something of a sad bastard—not of the sparkling pop Elliott Smith variety—but more from the Woven Hand, or Bill Callahan school of glum. But his songs, while all characterized by a mid-tempo andante, are nonetheless appealing, and the band’s playing is at once sanguine and austere.
Frame’s lyrics are not as detailed as Townes Van Zandt’s (a clear inspiration), nor is his singing as enunciated, but in mood and tone he’s clearly taken succor from Townes. And like a Jay Farrar without the faux Walker Evans sepia tone sound, his world-weary vocals suit the resignation of his lyrics. “The Stain” opens Purgatory with these representative lines: “We were all waiting in line to get a little blood on our hands.” And in that line the listener remains.
Five of Purgatory’s nine songs feature the full band, while four are Frame’s solo vehicles. But rather than sounding like a half-finished record, Purgatory reminds of Mark Kozelek’s Sun Kil Moon recordings; the full band tracks simply sound like expansions of Frame’s solo visions, expanding the songs’ musicality while sustaining the contained, melancholy moods, which rarely lift. From the “just a small shot to kill the pain” of “Black Spring,” to the slightly more eros-driven likes of “Moriah’s Eyes,” Frame’s songs are melancholy devils. After all, as the album’s closer expresses, Frames has a “Helpless Heart.”
Frame and guitarist Andrew Luker anchor the band, having worked together for several years. Luker’s dobro work is the band’s chief ornamentation; he gives Frame’s songs just the right high, lonesome embellishment. Betse Ellis joined on bass just before these sessions. She’s known from bands like The Wilders for her soaring violin work. Her bass playing fits perfectly with drummer Matt Richey; together they lock in like Charlie McCoy and Kenny Buttrey, respectively, on Dylan’s fabled John Wesley Harding.
The band’s vitality would be enhanced by a little more variety in tempo. Sometimes the melancholy thud of The Blessed Broke’s music can be relentless. But credit them for sustaining tension and mood. With quality material and beautiful playing, Brian Frame and The Blessed Broke engage us fully, however somber the fare they serve on Ladders Out of Purgatory.
--Steve Wilson
Be sure to catch The Blessed Broke this Saturday at The Ship, 1217 Union Ave, in the West Bottoms. Facebook event page.