"We finally just had to move everything inside." John put down the sheers for a moment to stress the impact of his next statement, "It was raining so hard, its what we used to call 'dropping pitchforks and nigger-babies' on the land."
He had been my barber for nearly all my life, so I knew the uselessness of trying to argue with the old man. It was simply one of those moments that you face where you have to grin and bear it, realizing that not everyone is fortunate enough to know enlightenment in the modern age. Countless discussions with him-- coifed crown in the opposite direction of his Southern drawl-- had yielded scarce results in changing John's viewpoint. The key to his salvation (and ours) is in the realization that future generations will wince and learn from the mistakes of the past; righting wrongs and carrying on in what will hopefully be an improved manner.
While no music can be considered an equal iniquity to racial slurs, if I had to pick a single pseudo-genre that was the closest to it-- and it happens to be experiencing a recent resurgence-- I would choose the music of the 1980s. The heavy reliance on synthesizers and childish notions of lyrical sincerity that the stereotypical 80s music was made of bring about nearly the same feelings of vehement distaste and disgust as the use of the n-word in casual conversation. Dismissal of the genre would be a grievous crime in the long run though, just as it would be wrong to put someone like John to death for doing what he's always been taught to do. Constructively, it would be wiser to learn from the spirit of the not-forgotten past, without strict adherence to any woebegone or vulgar ideology. Enter former-Grifters member David Shouse and his latest musical incarnation, The Bloodthirsty Lovers.
Turning away from his most recent gig with Those Bastard Souls, Shouse's latest project experiments with the slight elements of the 80s listed above in his bout to infuse a salvaged period in pop's history with a refreshed viewpoint and some refined ideas. Falling into a more subdued pattern of melody and rhythm, Shouse partially succeeds in his goal, creating interesting songs that catalog some new tricks for this old dog.
On "Hardcore", Shouse and his cronies-- drummer Paul Taylor from the North Mississippi Allstars and keyboardist Thom Krupski-- lay out their finest blueprint with a tinny beat overlapped by slowly evolving, distorted bass. The song progresses not unlike a heavier Cocteau Twins, except that instead of building to suspense, it leads itself towards stagnancy, content with its own aimless wandering before it weakly peters out.
"Call Off the Thugs" begins with an ambient synth-intro that sounds like a poor man's Brian Eno or later-day Tangerine Dream, eventually melting into gentle guitar strumming accompanied by a frail drum program. Similar to the tracks "Telepathic", "Transgression #9" and "Take the Time", the song eventually becomes too focused on the bland repetition of its basic patterns, ultimately leading to a loss of all interest. "Sonic Letter to Sara Jean" behaves likewise, but the by-now usual fuzz is interchanged with the harder "thump" of programmed bass, as retrograde instrumentation flutters around a buried falsetto. The track makes further use of neo-psychedelic elements, sounding at times like a modern version of Tomorrow's "My White Bicycle" in its backwards guitar phrasing and obtuse lyrics.
"Datapunk" emerges as one of the stand out tracks on the album, borrowing most heavily from the beat-heavy 80s, tagging what sounds like a Scott La Rock backing track onto a weary distorted bass, with electronic flourishes punctuating every down beat. Though one of the shortest tracks on the album, it summarizes the band's stated philosophy of assimilation and defiance to the utmost.
Unfortunately, TBLs make an attempt to outrun the demons of their inspired past, and they are in the end overcome by the burden of previous blunders. The kitsch value of Shouse's current vehicle still makes one's jaw clinch at times, no matter how sincerely he pulls off certain aspects of the endeavor. He admits in an interview on the Southern Records website that this album was "99% me; the next one will be a band project." Perhaps tempered by the opinions of his bandmates, Shouse will reel in his unpleasant superfluities, and release a record in the near future to propagate the prouder elements of his new sound, excluding those that encumber this debut.
