ARTIST: The Afghan Whigs
TITLE: Unbreakable (A Retrospective 1990-2006)
LABEL: Rhino Records
GENRE: Rock
BITRATE: 213kbps avg
PLAYTIME: 1h 16m total
RELEASE DATE: 2006-06-05
RIP DATE: 2007-05-31
Track List
----------
1. Retarded 3:25
2. Crazy 4:05
3. Turn On The Water 4:18
4. Debonair 4:14
5. I'm A Soldier 4:21
6. 66 3:24
7. Be Sweet 3:38
8. Come See About Me 3:48
9. Uptown Again 3:12
10. What Jail Is Like 3:30
11. Magazine 3:20
12. I'm Her Slave 2:59
13. Going To Town 3:17
14. Gentleman 4:09
15. Let Me Lie To You 4:35
16. John The Baptist 5:36
17. Crime Scene Part One 5:57
18. Faded 8:24
Release Notes:
ThereÆs about eight years between the first and second tracks on Unbreakable (A
Retrospective), immediately revealing how much the Afghan Whigs developed over a
decade, what was gained in the process, and what was lost. Opener ôRetardedö,
from 1990Æs Up In It, a lo-fi maelstrom of raw, threatening guitars, introduces
the bandÆs defining elements: the knife-fight between guitar players Greg Dulli
and Rick McCollum, soul and funk melodies ratcheted to aggressive tempos, and
DulliÆs in-character performance (öMotherfucker lied to you,ö he snarls), which
detractors would label ôposturingö throughout the 1990s. Following ôRetardedö is
ôCrazyö, from the bandÆs 1998 swan song 1965; itÆs slicker and more controlled,
dialing down its tempo and filling its empty spaces with ôSoul Fingerö-style
party chatter, yet sacrificing not one iota of menace.
Unbreakable, a best-of collection that democratically gathers tracks from every
facet of the bandÆs career, along with two newly recorded songs, is a sort of
last laugh. Despite their stature today (thereÆs a 33 1/3 book on Gentlemen in
the works), the bandû and especially Dulliû were largely neglected during the
1990s, relegated to second-tier status behind alt- bands such as Live, Alice in
Chains, and Candlebox. Formed in Cincinnati in 1986 and defunct by 2001, the
Afghan Whigs were one of the few alt- bands to flourish on a major label, where
greater control and bigger budgets allowed them to indulge every sinister urge.
While alternative rock radio still sported untucked flannel, the Whigs looked
dapper in all black or tailored suits. When popular music was at its most
studiously PC, the Whigs emphasized the sexual, and Dulli played power-struggle
games that many read as misogynist.
While their peers could barely see past the Who, the Whigs were digging through
the Stax Records catalog and covering the Supremes (öCome See About Meö is
included here). Even on their early tracks, the band found a way to integrate
African-American sounds and influences into their white rock: ôTurn on the
Waterö, from 1991Æs Congregation (whose album cover infamously features a nude
black woman holding a white baby, no less) uses Isaac HayesÆ wakka-chikka
guitars as a punk accessory, and its jumpy guitar riffs instill these songs with
a sense of motion that suggests amped-up r&b. Black Love, the bandÆs 1996
blaxploitation-rock epic, should have been the culmination of this trend, but in
1996 it sounded overdone and obvious. Unbreakable, however, reveals Black Love
to be a closet singles album, fitting three still-visceral songs into the
tracklist but making ôBlame Etc.ö and ôHonkyÆs Ladderö the most glaring
omissions.
With more dry wit and intelligent frustration than was often recognized, DulliÆs
lyrics were also intensely personal in their intimate sadomasochism, to the
extent that he invited ScrawlÆs Marcy Mays to sing ôMy Curseö on Gentlemen
because he couldnÆt bring himself to do it (nor could the producers include it
here). Taken at face value, though, DulliÆs songs made him out to be an asshole,
so thatÆs what people assumed he was. And he likely played that up, too. But on
Unbreakable, the hyperbolic tension of his lyrics plays as an amplification of
his own angst, not as a one-to-one projection. He wasnÆt necessarily the people
he sang about, but they were certainly part of him. The leering threats of ôBe
Sweetö and ô66? might best be read as useful exaggerations. And yet, DulliÆs
voice wavers on the quieter, slower numbers. He misses notes on ôFadedö, muddles
his phrasing on the new track ôMagazineö, but never self-censors. He lets the
moment stand, powerful in its imperfection, the sound of someone trying to
convey overwhelming inner conflict. At a time when so many 90s alt- bands
favored pained self-expressionsû and even a decade later when emo and goth-lite
bands lucratively fetishize their own anguishû Dulli keeps his performances as
raw as the hurt heÆs singing about.
The two newly recorded tracksû the bandÆs first since their break-up in 2001û
are surprisingly strong, picking up pretty much where 1965 left off. ItÆs nice
to hear McCollumÆs guitar slicing at Dulli again and CurleyÆs bass trying to
break them up. After the military grunts that count off ôIÆm a Soldierö, the
band launches into a massive gospel assault that prominently features Memphis
vocalist Susan Marshall (who also appeared on 1965), as if they had the audacity
to rewrite ôGimme Shelterö with a three-note chorus and cagier lyrics. Written
shortly before the band split six years ago, ôMagazineö begins as a slow ballad,
but builds into something more angular, lacking a hook but still intriguing.
Rather than presenting these songs chronologicallyû starting with their earliest
Sub Pop singles and ending with their newly recorded tracksû Unbreakable is
sequenced more organically and intuitively, mixing together songs from each
phase of their career so that they comment on one another. Ultimately, the
tracklist comprises a larger, self-mythologizing narrativeû culminating in the
sweeping drama of ôCrime Scene Part Oneö and ôFadedö, both from Black Loveû that
fits well with the WhigsÆ album-as-song-cycle approach. Unbreakable is one of
those rare career compilations that shows its subject in a new and immensely
flattering light, with the potential to clear up past misperceptions and to
reveal vast complexities that were previously overlooked.