Pearl Handled Revolver – Tales You Lose
Ooooh, dark in ‘ere innit?
This is a dark journey indeed but never so dark that the band or the listener lose their way and give up.
Lighting the way is the Hammond organ of Simon Rinaldo which drives this album along, leading from the front. Some of his keyboard flourishes and the way he interacts with guitarist Andy Paris remind me of Bo Hansson of all people. Refreshingly vocalist Lee Vernon sings in a lower, baritone register than we hear on many rock albums. Because of that more than anything else, he brings Nick Cave or Jim Morrison to mind.
Vocals and keys combine to give things a Doors-ian vibe at times for sure. That’s maybe quite apt because, like them, PHR have a lyrical penchant for the darker side of things but there’s so much more going on here than tipping the hat.
Opener Black Rock begins deceptively gently with some Nick Mason style touches from drummer Chris Thatcher but a couple of minutes into its ten minutes plus, we’re treated to the first blast of the band’s full on lysergic throb (that phrase must have been trademarked by now for sure). At one point Rinaldo’s Hammond blends organically into Vernon’s harmonica in an effortless way that speaks of prog levels of attention to detail in the production and writing stages. Also in the best prog traditions, each song delivers a subtly different atmosphere. A stand out example being the spacious soundscape of Lightening.
Each of the tracks making up the album are strong in their own right but that being said, this isn’t just a collection of songs, they’re best appreciated as a piece. In fact, despite the thoroughly electric nature of the music, organic might be a good way to describe a lot of what’s going on here. It feels natural and real, free of artifice. The whole album is greater than the sum of its parts.
There’s an element of “Trampled Under” funk to Courageous. Its deliciously dreamy groove fades out allowing Space Invader and bass player Lucas Rinaldo to slap us in the chops, which he does in more ways than one with another take on rock with a funk backbone.
Things reach a powerful conclusion with album closer Junkies with its hypnotic, somewhat eastern motifs. The repeated application of tension and release builds to a climax that’s breathless and intense and when the chill out coda arrives, it’s in dramatic and welcome contrast. You can use a little respite to hit the replay button.
Suffice to say my social life’s on hold, there’s a back catalogue here to explore.
Back in the days of the wild west, a pearl handled revolver would have been a mighty potent status symbol. To those still prone to walking the streets with a slab of new vinyl proudly on display, this album should be the same.
This review is dedicated to the late Steve Beastie who loved this band.
Mike Bruce | Now Spinning Magazine
