Share TRUE LOVE CAST OUT ALL EVIL - Roky Erickson with Okkervil River (Spunk)
If a guy deserved the title Global Living Musical Treasure it's be Roky Erickson. He's probably rock and roll's ultimate survivor in the face of some pretty stiff competition (and if you need much more explanation you're probably in the wrong place.) Even so, expectations were probably modest for his first new album in 15 years. Be assured it's an intense and multi-faceted classic.The first thing that needs to be said is that the pairing with Okkervil River, a hip and happening alt.country act from Roky's hometown of Austin, Texas, was inspired. This isn't a rock and roll record, per se, but it does rock - especially on the pre-released ""Good Bye Sweet Dreams" and the dense "John Lawman".
Three tracks date from Erickson's time as a mental patient in Rusk Prison, cleverly married to overdubs. In one instance, we hear white noise from the multiple radio and TV sets a reclusive Roky kept on in his apartment 24-hours a day to block out the voices in his head. If that or "Please, Judge", the impassioned plea for judicial mercy, doesn't send a chill down the spine, you're possibly quadriplegic.
No "Bermuda" on this album? "Goodbye Sweet Dreams" is as good as anything Roky's committed to tape. His voice might not have the abandon and power of the crazed guy who fronted the 13th Floor Elevators but there's an undeniable power to the songs that comes with conviction and material that's deeply personal and intense. Even if you didn't know the back story it would be hard to be dismissive.
Producer and Okkervil River mailman Will Sheff has proved to be a production wizard, imparting a sense of immedicacy. His band provides sympathetic and skilful support to the revered singer.
- The Barman
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Everyone knows the Thirteenth Floor Elevators’ seminal song “You’re Gonna Miss Me”. An undeniable highlight of the highlight-stuffed "Nuggets" LP, the sound of punk emerges from the groove in screams and jagged guitar chords. Ten thousand guitarists took notes. Ten thousand vocalists listened in jealousy. About ten million people wondered how they made that weird bubbling noise. How much of popular culture sprang from that 45rpm? You couldn’t calculate it if you tried.
Lead singer Roky Erickson did drugs. He did a lot of drugs. Then, he did some more. He got busted and, living in Texas, he ended up in a maximum security psych ward. They attempted to cure his drug taking through electric shock treatment. The man who emerged from that institution was clearly more damaged than the man who went in. Still he kept recording. There are some who talk about outsider art. Don’t be confused by that term. A lot of people seem to think that, if you can get the insane to produce art, it is somehow better than the work of the sane.
That’s not what is happening here. Despite (and in spite of) mental illness, Roky Erickson continued to make music of substance and quality. Listen to those singles from the late nineteen seventies. Songs like “Bermuda” and “Two Headed Dog” were certainly left field but they weren’t the incoherent warbling of a talentless schizophrenic. Roky continued to rock. His untitled “Evil One” LP of the nineteen eighties and was consistently on a turntable around me. Stuffed with horror movie and satanic imagery, you sensed a man who no longer wished to be part of the human race. Still, his delivery and phrasing are immaculate. More importantly, there was always a wry sense of humour in the lyrics. My experience of the truly mentally ill suggests one thing they lack is a sense of humour.
That’s not to say he was doing well. The medication he was being given left him with tremors. Decades slipped away. Toothless and broken, he ended up living at his mother’s house watching multiple televisions, unaware of the high regard in which his previous work was held. A documentary (the excellent “You’re Gonna miss me”) was made. There was the release of an anthology CD, great reviews, re-evaluations and concerts. Henry Rollins even chipped in to buy him a new set of gnashers. Of course it wouldn’t be long before someone dragged him into a recording studio.
So after intervention and rehabilitation, what does that mean for Roky Erikson? Can anyone who sailed that far past the edge ever come back? What is the chance a new solo album will be any good? Well, I suppose that depends on your expectations. If you’re hoping for a new Thirteenth Floor Elevators’ album, you’ll be disappointed. If you’re looking for a new “Bermuda” it isn’t there either. If you’re want to hear an album from a man who has gone through more shit than you will ever have to endure before finding the mercy of some kind of redemption, then listen up.
There is an overall alt-country (with emphasis on alternative) feel here and Roky seems comfortable in it. It is an album stuffed full of hope, acceptance and possibility. If you are looking for touchstones you could try Emmylou Harris’ “Red Dirt Girl” or Dylan’s “Love and Theft”. There are still those familiar nods to Buddy Holly and Phil Spector in the song writing and lyrical references to “pentagrams striking twelve”. The familiar elements are there but the old dog has learnt a few new tricks.
Okkervil River’s production is sympathetic, clever and modern. Starting with the kind of scratchy cassette tape recording we have heard a lot throughout Roky’s non-career, a lush echo drenched sound emerges like a flower blooming. Listen to it once. Buy it. Stick it in the car stereo. Let it play end to end and start again. Suddenly discover the disc has been going round and round for the last three days with no thought of changing it for another. That’s what I did. There’s a fair old chance that you will too. - Bob Short
1/2
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