They say the past is broken, if you wanna live like most
Glum, well yes, actually. It’s quite a toned-down affair from all their albums prior. From the time of being The Giant Sandworms throughout their Homestead and Restless years, their albums had a certain vibe. It was as if the recording studio was in someone’s rec room, in a big rambling hacienda, where they would all be hanging out, maybe partying once in a while and when all of a sudden an inspiration would strike someone, they’d just pile into the studio with whatever friends and guest musicians happened to be around at the time, and lay down the track.
That vibe is still hanging around on Glum, but it feels more mournful, as if these songs were recorded during and after a wake held at the theoretical hacienda. To some extent, this is true. The album is a tribute to “Pappy” Allen (’severely dedicated to’ as the liner notes say), who you might know from The Howling IV. Anyway, on Glum, Giant Sand are venting their frustrations, getting out all the poison, finding some beauty along the way.
The title track is a beautifully ragged song about hiding one’s emotions, downbeat with scratchy uprisings of discordant guitar through the mire of feeling. Howe Gelb’s voice is more gritty and burnt-out than ever. ‘Painted-on smile, on a real life mask. Is the skin keeping it in, you fail to ask.’ The second track is possibly the greatest song they ever wrote, a rallying song for trying to escape the past, ‘hanging by a thread, well out on the ropes,’ dealing in dominant/submissive, even predatory relationships. “Yer Ropes” just has a great sweep and power to it, the playing is always propelled forward, Gelb’s lyrics feel like metaphorical storytelling where we don’t really get all the information, Rainer playing beautiful Dobro, Peter Holsapple with gorgeous, aching slide guitar.
From there, the songs settle into a slow, hard-bitten groove like wagon wheel ruts in Arizona hardtack. Even when they are heavy with guitar firepower howling everywhere, they retain a sense of beautiful tragedy and Gelb is especially hoarse. Of course, there is still the sense of eclectic disarray that characterized all of their albums up to this point, such as on the big honky-tonk intro of “1 Helvakowboy Song” giving way to a bass, piano, and organ roadhouse instrumental, as well as guest vocal spots ranging from Victoria Williams to Howe Gelb’s daughter Indiosa to the closing with Pappy Allen singing Hank Williams’s “I’m So Lonesome I Could Cry” (a lovely tribute). “Faithful” is my favourite moment aside from “Yer Ropes”, a tired road monologue of mediocre hotel rooms – ‘I run into the same desk jerk, he tells me Kafka slept here, only this time it doesn’t work.’
A damn fine album. Tragically this is out of print, so snap it up if you get the chance.
83% => **** —currently # 11 on my best of 1994 list—
Oh, and speaking of the chance to snap it up, download it here.
Leave a Reply