Post by Zapp Brannigan on Feb 6, 2011 20:33:44 GMT -5
www.lifessweetbreath.com/reviews/albums/15-ghost-of-a-man.html
Paul Cary - Ghost Of A Man
[Stankhouse, 2010]
92%
From the smoldering opener of Paul Cary’s Ghost of a Man it is made very clear—this is going to be a raw ride. Originally the raging front-man of Iowa’s The Horrors, Cary has one foot out of the garage and a bluer askew on his punkish outlook. With this debut LP he proves the complex simplicity of a man and his guitar. Bittersweet reflection wedged deep within the soul of this album radiates over Cary’s rowdy guitar licks and blistering vocals. The beautiful engineering execution is accredited to Mike Lust and Johnathan Crawford. Crawford is also the sharp percussionist on the album, joined by Dave Rempis ripping through the sax and Toby Summerfield on bass. Ragged and running on pure fire, “Iryna” is an anthem of the night; resonating back-alley dive bar demons, while somehow still bringing a dirty but dainty nod to a classical era long forgotten. Beginning to end, the spirit of “Iryna” is the driving force behind the record; “I’m no stranger to the darkness, I’m no stranger to the fog.”
A 2005 move to the windy city of Chicago has held a heavy hand in Cary’s new direction. Ghost of a Man oozes with the spirit of soul and blues distinctive to the city he now calls home. One thing he brought with him from Iowa is the grit; the man likes some dirt in his sandwich. Ten years later, a little less noise and a little more jaded wisdom, the grit he carried on Iowa’s back roads is now delighting our audio sensory. The rattling rhythms and droning bass lines carry a certain charm that is hard to place without a true love for the feel of Cary’s voice. There is a genuine timelessness about the album. He pulls inspiration from many souls whose blood, sweat, and tears built the very foundation on which the real music of today stands. Strains of blues, soul, country, punk, and true garage rock can all be found delicately laced in the DNA of Mister Cary.
Track after track the reckless ride winds down into the last three songs. The album’s title track burns like the last shot of whiskey after last call. Compromised of haunting vocals, drowsy instrumentals, and a “nothing left to lose” attitude, this is the soundtrack of a weary spirit. “Bad People” possesses a more musical fullness than the rest of the album and is, ironically, more elegant. Harsh reality and ugly truth seem to be reoccurring ideas in the mind of this lyricist; “If it stings and it burns, that’s when you know it’s real,” are definitely words to take along for the haul. “Green Monster,” the last track of the album, reaches into the darkest depths of the listeners’ memory and provokes thoughts of things left far behind. A man who obviously knows his way around the ugliest corners of relationships, Cary scrounges his way through a winding tale of jealousy. “…full of liquor and hate” he leaves the album on a note of crawling, lonesome ruination.
Start to finish, Ghost of a Man is an honest-to-god heartbreaker; the kind of heartbreak that moves in and settles on our minds at the end of the day. It never leaves and we don’t want it to— this record will stomp in our headspace from now on, swaggering like no body’s business. Though sometimes a cold shoulder of an album, the warmth is there and it grows with each spin. Paul Cary is the grit holding genuine garage-rockabilly together.
- Laura Hill, December 2, 2010
Paul Cary - Ghost Of A Man
[Stankhouse, 2010]
92%
From the smoldering opener of Paul Cary’s Ghost of a Man it is made very clear—this is going to be a raw ride. Originally the raging front-man of Iowa’s The Horrors, Cary has one foot out of the garage and a bluer askew on his punkish outlook. With this debut LP he proves the complex simplicity of a man and his guitar. Bittersweet reflection wedged deep within the soul of this album radiates over Cary’s rowdy guitar licks and blistering vocals. The beautiful engineering execution is accredited to Mike Lust and Johnathan Crawford. Crawford is also the sharp percussionist on the album, joined by Dave Rempis ripping through the sax and Toby Summerfield on bass. Ragged and running on pure fire, “Iryna” is an anthem of the night; resonating back-alley dive bar demons, while somehow still bringing a dirty but dainty nod to a classical era long forgotten. Beginning to end, the spirit of “Iryna” is the driving force behind the record; “I’m no stranger to the darkness, I’m no stranger to the fog.”
A 2005 move to the windy city of Chicago has held a heavy hand in Cary’s new direction. Ghost of a Man oozes with the spirit of soul and blues distinctive to the city he now calls home. One thing he brought with him from Iowa is the grit; the man likes some dirt in his sandwich. Ten years later, a little less noise and a little more jaded wisdom, the grit he carried on Iowa’s back roads is now delighting our audio sensory. The rattling rhythms and droning bass lines carry a certain charm that is hard to place without a true love for the feel of Cary’s voice. There is a genuine timelessness about the album. He pulls inspiration from many souls whose blood, sweat, and tears built the very foundation on which the real music of today stands. Strains of blues, soul, country, punk, and true garage rock can all be found delicately laced in the DNA of Mister Cary.
Track after track the reckless ride winds down into the last three songs. The album’s title track burns like the last shot of whiskey after last call. Compromised of haunting vocals, drowsy instrumentals, and a “nothing left to lose” attitude, this is the soundtrack of a weary spirit. “Bad People” possesses a more musical fullness than the rest of the album and is, ironically, more elegant. Harsh reality and ugly truth seem to be reoccurring ideas in the mind of this lyricist; “If it stings and it burns, that’s when you know it’s real,” are definitely words to take along for the haul. “Green Monster,” the last track of the album, reaches into the darkest depths of the listeners’ memory and provokes thoughts of things left far behind. A man who obviously knows his way around the ugliest corners of relationships, Cary scrounges his way through a winding tale of jealousy. “…full of liquor and hate” he leaves the album on a note of crawling, lonesome ruination.
Start to finish, Ghost of a Man is an honest-to-god heartbreaker; the kind of heartbreak that moves in and settles on our minds at the end of the day. It never leaves and we don’t want it to— this record will stomp in our headspace from now on, swaggering like no body’s business. Though sometimes a cold shoulder of an album, the warmth is there and it grows with each spin. Paul Cary is the grit holding genuine garage-rockabilly together.
- Laura Hill, December 2, 2010