ARTIST: South San Gabriel
TITLE: The Carlton Chronicles (Not Until The Operation's Through)
LABEL: Misra Records
GENRE: Indie
TIME: 48:02 min
SIZE: 65,4 MB
RIP DATE: Mar-31-2005
RELEASE DATE: Apr-05-2005
Track List:
01. Charred Resentment The Same 04:20
02. Predatory King Today 06:24
03. Affection's The Pay 05:04
04. The Dark Of Garage 04:47
05. I Am Six Pounds Of Dynamite 05:37
06. This Rookie Runs 05:52
07. I Feel Too Young To Die 04:57
08. Stupid Is As Supid Does 07:06
09. Sicknessing 03:55
Release Notes:
I wonder if Will Johnson has trouble keeping track
of his various musical projects. Do you think he
walks into the studio, looks at the personnel
assembled, scratches his head and wonders if heÆs
recording a maudlin solo album or the next rocker
from Centro-matic? According to the press for the
new album from JohnsonÆs South San Gabriel, his
first thoughts as he walked into the studio were
concerns about letting the assembled musicians know
that the set of songs he would be asking them to
bring to life were about a sick cat. Yeah thatÆs
right, a song cycle about a cat. And this from the
guy whoÆs often thought of as the thinking manÆs
rocker, the intelligent answer to every question
about indie rock sincerity, Denton, TexasÆs answer
to the precocious smugness of Austin or Seattle or
Athens.
The songs on The Carlton Chronicles are uniformly
excellent. ThereÆs not a single song on the album
that doesnÆt stand up to the usual high standards
weÆve come to expect from Johnson. But therein lies
the problem. While thereÆs not a single bad song on
the album, the tone of the whole has something to be
desired. It all moves at a languid pace, staking out
the alt-country territory that Johnson already mined
with this group on >Welcome, Convalescence. Each
song is beautiful, played by fine musicians who take
JohnsonÆs songs and imbue each one with perfect
moments and stray flights of melody: the steel
guitar that moans into ôI Feel Too Young Too Dieö at
the halfway point, the touch of harp and oscillating
organ that accent ôI Am Six Pounds Of Dynamite,ö the
light touch of brush on drum that pushes ôPredatory
King Todayö to another place. But through the nine
songs that comprise The Carlton Chronicles, its pace
becomes its downfall. If the music of this album is
intended to convey to the reader a sense of
increasingly infirmed feline movement and tendency,
then by the time we get to the fifth song on The
Carlton Chronicles weÆre begging for the musical
equivalent of a cat getting stuck in a drainpipe
necessitating the entire fire department having to
dig the thing out with a backhoe.
JohnsonÆs voice is a unique tool. HeÆs able to push
into odd corners of the songs, create unexpected
harmonies with the instruments, but his is not very
good at literal story telling. JohnsonÆs pitch
coupled with a tendency towards muffled phrasing
essentially makes his lyrics near indecipherable.
ItÆs frustrating especially when the lyrics must
necessarily be key to understanding the song cycle.
The song titles give significant clues to the goings
on in the songs, but ultimately their content is
frustratingly veiled.
The worst thing that can happen to The Carlton
Chronicles is for it to be dismissed as simply songs
about a dying cat. If it fails, it shouldnÆt fail on
the merits of the chosen subject matter. As clichΘd
as it may sound the themes of questioning that are
raised here are universal; if sickness is cause to
rail against the injustice of something thatÆs much
larger and far less knowable than ourselves than
that theme is universal in a cat as well as a human.
Johnson is aiming high with The Carlton Chronicles,
but itÆs not his subject matter thatÆs his worst
enemyùitÆs the execution.