The last post has been deleted and replaced with this one. This one's better. With thanks to our very own Ben (Bangs) Lyons, who has furnished us with this review:
The Longshots are more a “collective” as opposed to the traditional Buddy Holly and the Crickets notion of a band i.e., guitars in hand on a bus or a plane on the road to nowhere or oblivion or somewhere (not for long - Ed.). And they have recorded a debut Double album/CD “New Wine in Old Bottles/I’m Already Scarred and Its Ónly Friday”. The references to livers and looseness are not implied at any stage in this “Longshots” world –its all in your face.
The album cover (a painting by the sublime artist Chris Worfold) is an apt introduction to this “gonzo” recording that at first listen is totally true to the nature of its surroundings - the most eastern part of the Antipodes. But multiple listens uncover much more depth and beauty, which is the objective of any good record I s’pose.
This listener opted for the second title as first course and was greeted by a ramshackle pure country pop “O Jeff Tweedy” , from a Steve Miller-esque guitar opening and honky piano completed with hoarse vocals of Mr Trent Christie, O Jeff is a song in the best traditions of the whiter country end of New Orleans (pre flood) a “rouser”. The Longshots are salty pirates and nowhere does this seem more obvious than on this track.
To be Francis or frank “O Jeff T” is one of the more lightweight numbers here and perhaps one that pales near the tighter and snappier songs such as Naked, Away from the Sun, Painless and Vintage; Painless is a percussive, organ laden sound track to a chicken beheading in a cane field if I ever heard one. Painless is a response to the “O Jeff Tweedy” call or maybe a rum-coke can desert to the aforementioned beer song. Either way I am not sure they like Jeff Tweedy or not and mystery is a good thing. Naked is a drumming, rocking, beer barn orgasm, parts early 80s Aus rock, part Deadhead bliss complete with space Korg lift off. Have these guys considered groupies? ... nah. Along with “Wild card man” solid husky rock traditions are tipped a hat brim here. We likey, love it loooongtime.
A key ingredient in this gonzo gumbo gris gris is the production of Dan Rowan, recovering from the potentially devastating loss of little Neve, Dan has bounced back with superb considered production and engineering form. He possesses a rare ear for layering and space that brings simple pleasures and the best out of some rather tasty, tried and test raw materials – fender telecasters, dry snares, old martins, rusty bass strings, les ladies backing vox, and the odd glass of Jack and ice.
Daniel-san himself brings solid and versatile vocal stylings that anchor this work with ennui meets nonplussed landscape lyrics. “One-Eyed Jack” in particular showcases a talented musician, artist and songwriter. Lead vox are shared across this record and this adds variety, in a good way, these guys don’t really care as long as you get “the vibe your honour”. Justice is in the cake not just the ingredients.
“Storm in a Gin Jug” “Crisp Summer Riesling” and “Late Blooming” are the shade to the above mentioned tracks ‘white piercing light’, light needs shade, hot needs cold. One that couldn’t sit under the tree but out on the clay pan was “Travellin”, a builder complete with fender tele and whoo earrings. It is a ceaseless Congo man drum beating complete with white man pining. “Vintage” follows this with a similar build and break-it-down structure locked around a very Daniel Craig tough guitar, here is a musical element that is like a bitch fight in a Hong Kong bowling alley, you just have to watch/listen and be enthralled and shake your head at the impossibility of life and agree that the answer to the universe is 42. (By the way Daniel Craig being the first James Bond who could take a kick in the balls – even Connery ponces around compared to Daniel Craig). That sliding tonal beauty grinds out and completes a very solid set that is “I’m Already Scarred…”. There is much ear candy here comrades.
Who would you file the Longshots under? Well this is proving difficult, the gender is definitely XY, the dating agency spin would probably mention “traditional male seeks wild woman for rum and coke and mojito binges near sand and water” or “when I’m good I’m good, when I’m bad I’m better”. Musically there is New Orleans, there is Gram and orange groves, there is wild man 50s rock and cars with fins, there is Highway One acceleration. There is definitely plenty of Hunter S Thompson-isms but more Rum Diary-era Hunter and sea breezes and less Vegas and rifles. Oh and did I mention the Fender Teles?
Not everything on this album is perfect, when combined with another album (see forthcoming review) there are songs that, ala Pavement and their similarly gris gris gumbo/Beefheart-esque release Wowee Zowee, or Bob Pollard and his never ending four track releases, might not have been missed but hey as a document of a time and place of this “band” of individuals it will wear long and well. Congratulations on the tones Longshots, and if anything this recording screams bring on the next album.
