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| 4.5 superb | TheManMachine | December 9th 17 |
Ed Hamell is seasoned as a rambler-n-rhymer, acoustic thrasher, skillful storyteller, singular homespun punk-scuzzer -- and here sees him pulling together all the concerned yearnin' and unbounded wit and frank force needed to loosely capture the tumult of the Trump era. Besides being perturbed over his kid feeling apprehension rather than admiration for fuckface cops and our browbeater world leader, he fuses raunch and drollery ("She ride it like her panties on fire / She ride it like she binge watch The Wire"); adores an Australian chatterer's verbal inflections as much as her drunkenly eloquent thoughts on America; wistfully reminisces about high school ("Hiding pot in our locker until there's a raid / Getting three new albums cuz we just got paid"); discusses the life he's lived and how he'd like to die ("inevitably"). Resolute repetition guides the way, and when shit gets heavy -- i.e. regularly -- periodic quickies-for-the-kids about Froggy's picturesquely glit-edge lifespan are there to mollify. Proclamation Of One-Man Project That's All The Better For It: "You can spoil the brain broth with too many cooks / Call it Tackle Box cuz it's got so many hooks".
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