Much-missed blues maestro has rarely sounded more soulful, more poignant than on his sixth solo album, 2004’s , an album stunning in its simplicity and candour. Desolate beauty and drug-induced despair yes, but somehow shrouded in a redeeming light that highlights Lanegan’s status as arguably the greatest singer of his generation (and yes that includes Cornell and Cobain). Recorded at various locations in 2003-04 and featuring collaborators and Nick Oliveri (QOTSA), Duff McKagan and Izzy Stradlin and (who contributes stunning vocals to the bruising single ), there is not a weak track here, from the maudlin yet compelling Lee Hazlewood-referencing to the full-on deadpan freak-out of .
Lanegan’s voice is stunning in its range and depth, and the whole sounds so effortless it could have been knocked out in a couple of days (it wasn’t). As Homme writes in the sleevenotes: “When he told me: ‘I’m calling it ’, I was like, you’re a sick fuck. Because I knew him, so that’s funny to me, ‘cause Lanegan wanted to be a new piece of bubblegum on a sunny happy day.
But he was the gum underneath the desk [...
] He was the dark Lord.” The original crammed 15 songs onto one vinyl record in 50 minutes. The four-LP box set reissue expands this to a double album, plus two bonus LPs featuring rarities, out-takes and demos, including 12 previously unreleased tracks.
All of which are unmissable. Everett True started life as The Legend!, publishing the fanzine of that name and contributing to . Subsequently he wrote for some years for , for whom he wrote seminal pieces about Nirvana and others.
He was the co-founder with photographer Steve Gullick of a deliberately short-lived publication designed to be the antidote to the established UK music magazines. "I was 23 years old and my first boyfriend was John Lennon": 10 things you need to know about May Pang "Meticulously unravelling the album's complexities": The Alan Parsons Project's Pyramid, decompiled and recompiled "Hugging the corners of Seventies Yes with just the right balance of mimicry and mutability": Jon Anderson and The Band Geeks capture the right essence on True.
