This question is much simpler than about a light bulb, because there is a good example: two people are enough. Ladies and gentlemen, today we will review the first part of the discography of the wonderful duo The Bonnevilles. Not to be confused with the eponymous Milwaukee gang from the sixties.
Like my previous material about Deadbeatz, this one is again dedicated to a garage blues-rock duo, but in a much more familiar format: a drummer and a singing guitarist. Formations of this kind are already a kind of standard. Surely even in your hometown there are a couple of bosom buddies who play music in a similar sausage-free way.
However, the devil, as always, dwells in small things, and the biggest detail here is stylistic puritanism. That is, if there was blues at all, then over time it is replaced by another style: either some kind of heavy metal, or turkey pop. The most obvious and ironic example of such a Kafkaesque process is, of course, The Black Keys. Along with their popularity, they quickly acquired a lot of session musicians, and their music did not get worse, but it became completely different. And you probably don’t listen to anything from them older than 2010.
But back to our Irish. Yes, technically this is a British band, since they come from Belfast, the capital of Northern Ireland. But the Irish are always Irish, especially if their names are Chris Mcmullon and Andrew McGibbon, like our current musicians. Let’s take a look at their creative path, captured on the first three studio albums.
Good Suits and Fightin’ Boots (2010)
The first full-format with one name already well describes the peaky-blinded rebellious Celtic spirit and sense of style.
The album opens with the racing and rather metallic miniature One More Nail Outta Rock and Roll’s Coffin. The statement is quite serious and the rock’n’roll here has an iteration of a very dirty lead zeppellin.
Army of One is just as garage-dirty, with the spirit of swampy Louisiana. Andrew’s voice is loaded as well as his guitar, and Christopher’s very powerful drums give a clear feeling of live performance. The latter cheerfully decorates the rustic shuffle with three-piece knocks and zee-zee top-of-the-line rim work.
The title track, Good Suits and Fightin’ Boots, continues the healing mud festival. This song is from the category of suggestive. Such an assertive coolness. It’s really nice to hear how, without studio tricks, the mix doesn’t fall apart when it comes time for a short slide solo.
The crazy Polish woman in Asylum Seekers of Love surprises with her resourcefulness. It’s usually very difficult for such minimalistic compositions to turn the accompaniment into something illustrative, but here the novelty is insanely reminiscent of some of The Doors’ work.
The anarchistically charged No Government, No Country, No King allows you to take a break from the excess of metal shavings from previous tracks. Everything here is much bluer and aesthetically tired.
The drag in The Drag is once again reminiscent of lead balloonists. The acoustic guitar that appeared out of nowhere makes you think about them. In some particularly evil ways, the song resembles another British foursome from the city of Birmingham, but with all this heaviness, the composition is quite relaxing.
The shamanistic-heretical God Might Love Me (but He Doesn’t Know Me Like the Devil Does) relaxes the listener even more. Oh, all this flirting with the unclean, between Robert Johnson and Mick Jagger. Although they sound very sincere here.
It is replaced by the cheerful and most likely humorous I Don’t Like Whiskey. Really, who would say that in a serious conversation? Is it from Ireland? Even from the north.
The C’mon is not particularly remarkable, but it is very high-quality. And she rocks right as she should, but, relative to the rest of the tracks, there is not enough zest.
But in The Belgians Are Coming, there is a very successful entry into the surf theme. Unexpected and pleasant. Anyone who claims that a solo can’t be played with only drums, without the support of a bass guitar, another electric guitar, an organ and a brass band– should be shown as a refutation.
The album ends with the irresistibly impetuous and hardcore Hardtale Lurgan Blues. Makes an impression, as they say.
After the debut album, the second record did not have to wait long: the next album was released a couple of years later.
Folk Art & the Death of Electric Jesus (2011)
The new album sounds much cleaner and not so heavy. Now the aesthetic dirt will no longer stain the most delicate ears. Maybe just a little bit. At the same time, it still sounds very, very honest. The guys didn’t fall apart, in short, but they became more delicate.
And hit songs, so to speak. This is confirmed by the first two tracks: the opening You‘re Not Alone is measured and life-affirming. As if the guys were asking, “Will you be the third?”
Then get the gun ready. Thematically, Get Myself a Gun is very similar to the opening theme to The Sopranos series, but this version has a lot more Celtic fervor.
By the Time November Comes, it’s such a heavy respite. The perfect thing for long-distance trips in a tarantass, which is not equipped with air conditioning and seat belts. That “cool blues”.
Son of Reverbio… – drags mainly due to the memorable hook at the end of the conditional chorus. Well, the poetic turn, when you doppelganger yourself, was also a good success.
Conventionally, the two-part Kneel At the Altar recalls the religious feelings of oppressed Catholics, as well as the religious roots of blues music. The repeating refrain after these six minutes becomes a full-fledged independent prayer.
Home is a wonderful evening blues for everyone who is tired after a hard hot day. There is no place better at home!
Separate Ways is already entering the territory of British blues, somewhere between Gary Moore and J.J. Cale. At the same time, the melody of this song mixes modern turkey meat with traditional blues-rock from the late sixties so well.
Continuing the near-sixties Britishness, We’re Just the Right Distance from the Sun obsessively gives off either Deep Purple or Cream. This song evokes some downright abnormally romantic feelings. It’s like turning off all the cartoon retweeting for Gorillas, but making sure the rest works as it should. Fatalism is a good thing if you cook it right.
Hell is dirty gospel without frills. It’s the same miniature as the house song, but in the opposite key. It’s amazing that this is where the keys will come back.
10,000 by the magic of Asian numerology continues the fatalistic theme. Anyway, it’s a musically uncomplicated trick that this worldly wise reasoning pulls out. How long do I have left, eh, cuckoo?
Machine Born to Think is very wild, fierce and vital. With such a soundtrack, you want achievements, great and ridiculous at the same time.
The album closes with the acoustic cowboy The Ballad of That Murdering Bastard Ed Millar. Nowadays, soulless machines have taken over the Western country genre, so any successful author’s flirtation with it sounds very interesting, and this in itself is both a good song and a good afterword to an electric sparkling record.
I would like to call the second album mature. The garage fumes have not gone away, but they have acquired much more human, even intelligent features.Personally, I’m very impressed with this, because it shows the author from a more human side. It’s very easy to be noisy, but not everyone is able to make a decent and exciting noise.
Arrow Pierce My Heart (2016)
The numbered album, released four years later, was a difficult new step towards more intricate arrangements and a more expensive sound, which, I must say, has not lost its garage charm. For many fans of the duo, it was this record that became the entry point into the work of the Irish. And yes, for me as well.
Actually, it was thanks to this record that for several years in a row I cherished the doomed dream of putting together such a duet, but for such compositions the stars rarely come together in the right combinations. And the fact that such things require the providence of higher powers is a reinforced concrete fact.
No Law In Lurgan opens with completely unexpected backing vocals. The gospel nature is still making itself felt. First of all, this song is a vivid statement and as such it works great. As usual, the moderate timing hides an amazing powerful guitar sound, a fierce groove, a beautiful original slide solo, very catchy vocals and a couple more not too intrusive, but very effective hooks. And this song also successfully introduces a new, grown-up sound. God save the mastering.
And all this for the sake of a real, unwavering hit. If you can choose only one song from the entire work of the duo … what’s there! Of all the garage blues rock, I definitely choose My Dark Heart. What makes this masterpiece the most is the dynamics, or rather the masterful work with it.
After such serious statements, The Whiskey Lingers offers a little break, enjoying the polyrhythmic groove that hangs on the vocals, and then degenerates into loud accents of instruments. The solo has something of the unforgettable Led Zeppelin, namely the air above the cymbals of the drum kit.
The Electric Company is literally the anthem of my generation, because it’s too late for all of us to die young. Of the double-digit clubs in the future, there are only 67 left, where we will entertain our grandchildren in every possible way … However, you can’t mope under such a filigree reef, so put aside the longing and turn on the electricity.
Dancing on strings, the title Arrow Pierce My Heart sends you into a cozy miniature trance. Like a mantra or a prayer, over and over again.
Eggs And Bread is much more down-to-earth, but just as soothing. The sudden acoustics are reminiscent of the first four albums of the Cepellins, and quotes from the Doors are clearly audible in the melody.
What I like most about I Dreamt Of The Dead is the balance between punk arrogance and the balanced melodiousness of blues rock. Great work with dynamics and timing again.
I’ve Come Too Far For Love To Die resembles a meta-commentary on the romantic fantasies of traditional rock poetry. Melodically, she seems to parade the “striptease” themes of Cocker, while not removing gigawatts of guitar power.
Erotica Laguna Lurgana no longer offers striptease, but belly dancing. It’s a very interesting thumbnail in the context of the album.
The time for melancholic tales is coming again. The Man With The X Shaped Scar On His Cheek is filled with the same melody that gives the feeling of the refreshing breeze of a summer night that comes after a sweltering day.
In Those Little Lies, the flirtations with Western-country music continue, still appropriate and correctly performed. The same deafeningly lonely night under the vast starry sky. This song itself is reminiscent of the work of country alternative singer Tim Steinfort, which I will definitely tell you about sometime.
Learning To Cope pays homage to straightforward punk, like The Kinks. When the party in the garage was delayed. It is very interesting to work with the layering of the sound canvas. All these little auditory Easter eggs are for everyone who wants to hear them.
Who Do I Have To Kill To Get Out Of Here? – a very modern-sounding composition that preserves a lot of the legacy of rock music as such. There’s a punk riot sewn into the name, and the hopeless haze of Radiohead, the noise and fury of early hard rockers and the poetics of Roger Waters, and a lot more. A more than decent conclusion to this magnificent album.
This concludes the first part of my introduction to The Bonnevilles. At one time, my personal acquaintance stopped here, and I want you to experience the full depth of these three records, thoughtfully, with a proper arrangement. For all their diversity, both within each individual album and in comparison between records, the blues is still the blues. Stylistically, it fits perfectly with any of the duo’s experiments, but it remains itself. Like the white shirts these two men are wearing so smartly.
Join the band:
https://thebonnevilles.bandcamp.com/
https://www.facebook.com/thebonnevillesband/
