Few artists enjoy near ubiquitous critical acclaim, but then few artists so doggedly follow their muse to the exclusion of all commercial sense, drifting in and out of fashion perhaps, but never losing that crucial sense of self that makes an artist a leader rather than a follower. Since the demise of Screaming Trees in the wake of quite astonishing swansong ‘Dust’, Mark Lanegan has charted a remarkable course, collaborating with Queens of the Stone Age, a partially reactivated Mad Season (for the anniversary edition of ‘Above’) and Soul Savers, as well as releasing numerous solo albums, and that’s to say nothing of the many other collaborations and projects he’s also undertaken. Lanegan’s solo work initially seemed to suggest a gentle slide into Americana, all dusty strings and that wonderful, time-worn voice to the fore as Mark wrestled the blues into his own, dark place. Unwilling to let the grass grow beneath his feet, 2004’s ‘Bubblegum’ saw astringent guitars return on a muscular set packed with guest stars while the brilliant ‘Blues Funeral’ took things even further with Mark and his band treading sonic territory that suggested a certain reconciliation with the path that Screaming Trees were treading at the time of their dissolution. However, it is upon ‘Gargoyle’ that it has all come together most coherently. It is, without a shadow of a doubt, the most perfectly rendered Mark Lanegan album yet, capturing a sense of the contemporary without ever sounding out of place or overly concerned with anything beyond that which serves the song. An emotionally gripping journey through the musical landscape that Mark and his band call home, ‘Gargoyle’ is never less than stunning.
Gargoyle sees Mark collaborating with a band comprising a remarkable supporting cast including Alain Johannes, Rob Marshall, Jack Irons and Martyn LeNoble as well as numerous notable guest stars. Making full use of the studio, ‘Gargoyle’ is a wonderful canvass upon which Mark is free to daub his visions. Opening with the stuttering electronica of ‘Death’s head tattoo’ (complete with backing vocal from Afghan Whigs’ Greg Dulli), one is reminded of Depeche Mode at their dirtiest, whilst Mark’s vocal slides from the speakers like a liquid, golden honey. With Alain Johannes layering guitar textures and Rob Marshall’s haunting bass work, it’s a beautiful opening song that summons the listener in with its hypnotic rhythms only for Jack Irons (ex-Pearl Jam) to appear and shatter the mood with the insistent beats of ‘Nocturne’, a track that conjures images of late night drives across the American desert, Lanegan driving to beat the devil and the band playing for their souls on the open truck bed. With its cyclical synth ‘Blue blue sea’ harks back to Screaming Trees at their most hymnal, the rich sound of the Mellotron unmistakable as its quasi symphonic chords add a dash of sweetness to soundscapes that could otherwise be drawn from Philip Glass. Greg Dulli returns for the pulsing ‘Beehive’, Lanegan wryly noting that “honey just gets me stoned” as echoing guitar trails weave patterns in the sky. The first half of the album concludes with the restrained majesty of ‘Sister’, a lengthy exploration of the sonic hinterlands enjoyed by Tom Waits on ‘Mule variations’ with elements of creeping drone leaving plenty of open space through which Mark can roam at will.
Kicking off the second half of the album the sparkling rock of ‘Emperor’ has a QOTSA stomp to it which is hardly surprising when you consider that Josh Homme appears on backing vocals, but it is the serene ‘goodbye to beauty’ with its subtle beat and shimmering guitar work that overwhelms the senses with its gorgeous melody and evocative lyrics conjuring the spirit of Leonard Cohen. In stark contrast, the skittering breakbeat of ‘drunk on destruction’ sees Mark and his band incorporate the contemporary in a surprisingly sensitive fashion, allowing guitars to flourish and blaze with a post rock fury that leads neatly to the mesmerising ‘first day of winter’ which serves as a gentle come down after the insistent rush of its predecessor. The album concludes with ‘old Swan’ which, with its tough synth beat and echoing guitar draws upon a mix of early U2 and the post punk movement of the early eighties, Mark’s voice cracking as he sings “I’m free, free at last”. It is a wonderful track that ends the album on a note of hope that sets the soul soaring.
Dark, dense and beautiful, ‘Gargoyle’ takes vast strides across lush sonic territory, always tethered by Mark’s well-worn voice. As the album progresses, there’s a feeling that Mark is drawing widely upon his illustrious past at the same time as moving forward, always striving for that transcendent moment when music becomes a unique work of art, free from the shackles of history and purely evocative of a moment in time when a group of musicians were able to come together and create. ‘Gargoyle’ is full of such moments and is a truly miraculous record. 10
