by Brett Abrahamsen
One could argue that Souled American’s Sanctions is the most unfashionable album ever released. It’s their first album in thirty years, and the Scott Tuma-less band has made an album that’s weird, spectral, and haunted, with none of the concessions to trends that usually mar reunion albums. Opening track “Stranger” recalls Meat Puppets and Giant Sand at their most oneiric. “Fractured Sun” and “Boom Boom” are, if possible, even more spartan, sounding like they could have been recorded on a dusty road in the 1920’s. “Freeing Wheels,” however, is somewhat melodic, with a piano adding a sense of normalcy. “Sorry State” is a bizarre and sad cut that eradicates the memory of “Freeing Wheels”. The vocals on these tracks make post-throat cancer Levon Helm sound like Justin Bieber. The lyrics are equally authentic, with none of the missteps often found on the records of aging musicians.
“E.Q.” is somewhat more normal, and it’s probably superior to “Sorry State” in terms of sheer sonic appeal - the track features stirring vocal harmonies. The ending is somewhat annoying though. “Everytime” is a return to oddness, but it does manage to deliver a melody. The meandering “Born Free” could perhaps be said to be overlong, but “Living Love” introduces some pathos. The rugged “Bad To Be Good” sounds half dead, which is meant as a compliment. “Unforgiven” is desperate and recalls the laments of Tom Waits. “We,” the album closer, is a melancholic tour de force.
This is a dark, gritty, and strong record. One could argue the second half (aside from “We”) is less engaging, and it would have been interesting to hear how this album would have sounded with Tuma and/or a drummer, but it would be difficult to not hail this album as an intense and authentic artistic statement. This album is the aural equivalent of blood and dirt. It deserves to give Souled American wider recognition, but it likely won’t. And they know it, too.