MOJO – november 2008
Digging the blues
Fractured psychedelic 21st century blues from Parisian gardener
by Jon Savage
The White Stripes certainly started something, just like many people thought they would. Every now and then rock music has to be stripped of all the crap, so someone comes along and gets back to basics – in whatever form that takes. The Ramones went back to bubblegum, Jack White to the blues.
Like The White Stripes and The Black Keys, Don Cavalli breathes new life into a form that, as the many pre-World War II reissues make clear, has been around for more than a century. Long ignored by its original constituency, the blues has become a universal language – to be reconfigured into whatever shape fits the moment and person.
This time, it's an obsessive 35-year-old Parisian. The sound of Cryland is appealing lo-fi and iTunes eclectic. 21st century psychedelic.
Reverbed wah wah guitars fade into phased vocals and dub reggae space outs ; there are hints of electro and, on Cherie De Mon Cœur, Cajun.
None of this would mean much if the feeling wasn't there. The blues is distilled emotion, after all, and is mostly concerned with the dark side of human existence. Cavalli isn't afraid to explore these depths : « The sun won't rise tomorrow, » he sings on Gloom Uprising (a fitting anthem for summer 2008), while Aggression features the immortal chorus, « Aggression ! Ruination ! »
Classic blues tropes abound : rivers, sorrows, rocking chairs, black-eyed-peas, wandering wanderers. In the wrong hands this could be laughable, but Cavalli breathes in this stuff like the air. His tone is perfect, like a contemporary J.J. Cale, as riffs and lyrics are stripped back to the perfect, minimalist essence. Nothing feels wasted or superfluous.
It's not all gloom and doom. The screwball New Hollywood Babylon features Cavalli's exultant expectations of what awaits him in Tinseltown : « action : going to get me some », « watch my name on the screen », « red carpet hotel ». He even concludes with a version of that old warhorse Summertime, which he makes his own – no mean feat.
Historically, the blues focused on the forgotten, on the underdogs of society. In Casual Worker, with its stinging electric riff, Cavalli delivers a hymn to the credit crunch and those whom it has made most vulnerable : « Temporary ! Temporary ! » he growls, « What goes up must come down, dust to dust, ashes to ashes. »
Most of all, Cryland – like all classic blues – is not concerned with wallowing in misery but its transcendence. There's a great deal of satisfaction in getting your complaints off your chest : Don Cavalli revels in the process and its purgative effect. In catharsis lies energy, and this, ultimately, is a very joyful, uplifting record.
