In an ideal world of consumer protection, the warning label on the new My Morning Jacket album Z would read: Warning! Warning! This monster has mutated — with a fine-print scrawl about the side effects of sheer joy, delight and hysterical bliss. Yes, these Kentucky rockers have indeed pulled themselves up by their Louisville bootstraps, abandoning their Shelbyville barn studio for a piece of upstate New York.
Alongside the geographical relocation came personnel changes, with guitarist Johnny Quaid and keyboardist Danny Cash being replaced by Carl Broemel and Bo Koster respectively. “This band is like a mutating monster, it has a mind of its own,” says lead singer Jim James.
“It gets shot up or has toxic waste poured on it, but usually emerges from the debris with beautiful new limbs.” This phoenix resurrection has seen the band embracing a wider array of their influences, introducing a little snare-heavy funk and fragments of reggae into their country-rock world.
Originally rising to attention through their fanatical Dutch support base, My Morning Jacket released two albums on independent label Darla Records after James had seen their “cute logo” while working in a Subway sandwich store. Their move to Dave Matthews’s label, ATO, saw the band step up to the plate with a much rockier album, It Still Moves, in 2003 and an increasingly loyal following.
James aligned himself with contemporaries Conor Oberst of Bright Eyes fame and M Ward. He contributed to both of their releases last year, resulting in the Monsters of Folk tour, where the three singer-songwriters toured America collaborating and learning.
“I played an acoustic show with Bright Eyes, and Conor and I talked about doing a sort of creative bonding tour,” says James. “He recommended M Ward and I am so glad he did.”
Ward repaid James for the haunting backing lyrics on his song One Life Away by adding deft acoustic guitar and backing vocals to Jacket’s Into the Woods.
Z was recorded under the watchful eye of producer John Leckie and sees the new Jackets line-up totally reinventing their sound as they get their psychedelic celestial groove on.
“We chose John as we were big fans of his work,” says James about Leckie, who has worked with John Lennon, Pink Floyd, Magazine, The Fall and Radiohead. We wanted an outside source who could be honest with us, as well as someone with an experienced ear that we could trust.”
James says the personnel changes have obviously affected the band, but that Koster and Broemel have brought a spark back to the mix. “It was a difficult but needed change,” says James. He describes the decision to relocate from their studio on Quaid’s grandmother’s farm in Shelby-ville, Kentucky, as a cathartic exercise. “That space in Shelbyville was very important for a long time, but then it kind of turned dull and was full of old ghosts,” says James. “We had to ghostbust that shit and get out of there.”
Relocation from America’s South might be expected to have a huge impact on a band many view as the latest torchbearers in a long tradition of southern American rock. But James and Company have been quick to challenge the lazy press labelling that views him and his band as bearded, Lynyrd Skynyrd-obsessed rockers. When posed with the question of the influence of his southern heritage, James is adamant that the Jackets do not consider themselves anything but a rock band. “Louisville is an important place, it inspires us and limits us in the ways that make us us,” says James.
One listen to Z and it becomes clear why the band fight so strongly against the southern-rock-band pigeon-holing. Unlike their Americana contempories, My Morning Jacket’s album does not sound like it could have been made five decades ago. It is a modern album, which is as steeped in the lush electronic doodling of bands such as Air, The Flaming Lips and Radiohead as the guitar antics of Neil Young and Lynyrd Skynyrd.
Having delivered the album of their career, the Jackets would be forgiven for resting on their laurels a little, but the band is on the road taking their rocking live show on tour. “We try to keep our live shows different, but still hold on to the spirit of the songs,” says James. “Sometimes it gets a little crazy.”
South Africans are unlikely to witness the amazing My Morning Jacket live show anytime soon; although James says he would love to tour here, we may just have to be content with the live film and CD, Okonokos, which the band is releasing later this year. With an album by James’s pre-Jackets band, Mont De Sundua, and a My Morning Jacket demo collection, also set for release this year, fans can expect a healthy dose to get them to the next album. As for the band, James reckons there is a swathe of Victorian parties, Alpacas and Bear attacks just around the corner. Grrr!
My morning jacket
Z (Sony)
The opening pulse that starts the blood of My Morning Jacket’s (MMJ) fourth album, Z, pumping immediately signifies change. This is the Kentucky four-piece like they’ve never been heard before. Lead singer Jim James describes the album as really sad mysterious dance music, which hints at its sound, but cannot quite prepare you for the band’s embracing of lilting reggae and snare-heavy funk. Off the Record, the most blatant pop song MMJ have ever written, is driven along by a pseudo reggae groove that erupts into synthesiser, bass and percussion doodling reminiscent of French duo Air. Into the Woods sounds like a carnival deep in a mystical forest and doused in LSD. Jim James’s inaudible call to dance moments before the driving guitar of Anytime is an invitation for adventure down a yellow brick road. The album closes with arguably the most brilliant song MMJ have ever produced, Dondante, a seven-minute epic about the death of a friend, which hits all the right spots in a tone reminiscent of Neil Young at his best. — Lloyd Gedye
Also on the shelf
Clap Your Hands Say Yeah
Clap Your Hands Say Yeah (Just Music)
From the get-go, let me just say that there is no possible way I could give you an objective review of this album. I love it so much that it has been intrinsically linked to my life over the past year. The story of Clap Your Hands Say Yeah is a rags-to-riches fairy tale, but one listen to this album and one can tell that it was destined to be. The story begins with a little independent band who are self-distributing their debut album, which they record out of their own pocket. Along comes online music taste-maker Pitchfork.com with a glowing review. The long and the short of it is that the little independent band are now a global phenomenon, and their beautifully crafted debut is receiving all the hype it deserves. From the crazy-carnival hysterics of the opening number, Clap Your Hands, to the sheer bloody exhilaration of funk/new-wave anthems Over and Over (Lost and Found) and Skin of My Yellow Country Teeth, this album is sweet joy. If you are a fan of the Talking Heads and David Bowie, or are looking for an album that you can dance to all night long, this is it. — Lloyd Gedye
David Pajo
Pajo (David Gresham)
For those who have not been fortunate enough to come into contact with the music of David Pajo yet, let’s recap. This is the man who formed part of indie-rock pioneers Slint and then moved on to release music under the monikers Aerial M, Papa M and now Pajo. He was also a member of Smashing Pumpkins’s frontman Billy Corgan’s much-dismissed band Zwan. Pajo, his first album to be released under his real name, is his most mature work to date, an album of intricate, acoustic guitar-oriented songs that are less nu-folk movement and more swathes of sonic experimentation. Imagine Simon and Garfunkel produced by Sonic Youth and you may be heading in the right direction. Pajo’s guitar may dominate these songs, but it is the eerie backing effects that take his music into the next dimension and make Pajo one of the most satisfying releases of the year. — LG
The Raconteurs
Broken Boy Soldiers (Just Music)
The infamous Jack White looms large over today’s popular culture. When he’s not writing jingles for Coke, reviving ancient country singers’ careers or dissing Billy Childish in the press, he’s crafting blues-rock with his two-piece The White Stripes. However, The White Stripes’s formula of painting themselves into a red, white and black box reached its sell-by date, forcing White to branch out from his colour-coordinated shtick. Hence the new album from The Raconteurs, featuring two singer-songwriters and, lo and behold, a bass player. The end result is a sometimes interesting pastiche of the band’s collective influences. Think Queen, Black Sabbath, Led Zeppelin, The Who and Thin Lizzy candy-coated with a healthy slab of Beatles harmonies. I must stress this is not a bad album, just one that fails to recognise that a young indie rocker painting himself out of his self-imposed limitations doesn’t make for essential listening. — LG