Whether Cass McCombs shits gold every time he goes to the lavatory, I am unsure, but my money says he does. How else would you explain a man who releases such a string of remarkable albums – and that’s eight now – which act not only as increasingly impressive feathers in his already formidable cap, but also as a kind of comfort blanket for the soul?
Mangy Love, as a whole, is a kind of bridge between Jonathan Wilson and Kurt Vile, the delightfully crisp, clean guitar motifs aligning the slacker anthems of the latter with the prettier Laurel Canyon style melodies of the former. Few artists, however, are as adept at switching genres so effortlessly without losing that overwhelming feeling of protection. McCombs lets his tender melodies bury themselves firmly, and gently, in all four chambers of your heart.
It is this ability to flip and change at the shake of a tailfeather which makes McCombs’ compositions so easy to embrace. For example, after the pleasantries of the Wilson/Vile reference on the charmingly titled ‘Bum Bum Bum‘, the Californian begins ‘Rancid Girl‘ with a fragile acoustic guitar and broken vocal intro that suddenly throbs into something resembling ‘Children Of The Revolution‘ if Marc Bolan had been listening to intense blues music and popping downers at the time of writing; ‘I think I’ll go to Louisiana just to hang myself‘ broods McCombs darkly, yet somehow we are carried along on this journey like trusty footmen, having been convinced that we will be led to a peaceful Utopian joyland rather than some rancid, bottomless abyss. Its abrupt, unexpected ending is as surprising as it is satisfying. Clearly, there is a playful sense of humour lurking just beneath the surface too.
The soulful, heartwarming ‘Opposite House‘ (think Omar‘s classic ‘There’s Nothing Like This‘ or the subtle seventies sway of William De Vaughan) is a real highlight – “Living in a golden age, why do these words sound so strange? Nothing’s changed inside this cage” sings McCombs, which could be a social commentary on the world today or equally interpreted as an observation of a failed relationship. But it is perhaps the Beck like Latin shuffle of ‘Run Sister Run’ that grabs the golden crown and wears it most effectively. Even those of a painfully shy disposition will find themselves wanting to dance to the infectious beat, coupled with some remarkable lyrics at which we can only marvel – “Who are YOU to call her concubine?” Now there’s a phrase you don’t hear every day.
The intriguingly titled, deeply worded ‘I’m A Shoe‘ is a powerful, poignant curtain closer based on a letter sent by a little girl during the Gold Rush, after she and her family had to move to California. The letter, rather devastatingly, included the words “Goodbye God” and the fact that McCombs can inhabit this idea for the purpose of art just hammers the point home – Cass McCombs is one of our greatest modern day songwriters and quite frankly, I don’t care HOW mangy his love is.
Mangy Love is released on 26th August 2016 through ANTI-.
