MTV Unplugged was still some eight months away and, although Guns N Roses Lies had set a precedent, acoustic albums/versions were not yet in vogue when the Dogs unexpectedly dropped Graveyard with an initial run of fifteen thousand limited edition, numbered 10-inch mini albums. It would go on to get a 12″, CD, and cassette release, propelling it to the dizzy heights of number 16 on the UK albums chart, but none would have the charm of the 10″. It’s a beautiful little package dominated by Tyla‘s artwork that so perfectly encapsulates the band’s aesthetic. The best thing about it though, was the songs themselves.

A Graveyard of Empty Bottles kicks off in upbeat fashion with the laid back, blues tinged, foot-tapping vibe of the jaunty I Think It’s Love Again, before the stark contrast of the bleak minor chords of So Once Was I, which doubles down on Tyla’s romantic view of modern day cowboys and wasteland heroes. There is more contrast as we segue into the blues shuffle of Comfort of the Devil, which finds the frontman at his most poetically sublime: “The devil runs his fingers down the spine of fate / Grins at me with a smile that spells out hate / Spins his chamber of his gun / There’s only one soul loaded for fun / Much more fun.”

But it is on Saviour, which closes out side one, or the Blue Blooded Bar Side, where the planets really align. It is two glorious minutes of the Dogs D’Amour at their very best as a heartbroken acoustic backdrop underpins a bittersweet tale of dereliction tinged with hope. In my humble opinion, this is where Tyla just about peaked as an artist, both poetically – “Let me lay your soul to rest / Let my lips drip red wine on your breast / Let me stain your pain with disinterest / Just let me be there for the rest” – and vocally as his voice soars on the killer hook, making this delicate pull on the heart strings nothing short of irresistable.

The flip side, or the 5th of Whiskey Side, opens with the original version of the title track of the then forthcoming album, Errol Flynn. Despite being a catchy, upbeat, mid-tempo romp it adds little to the record as a whole, serving more as a contrast to the heartbroken melancholy of what is to come. And come it does in the measured, atmospheric tale of disgrace that is the drunken downfall of the preacher stumbling from his castle of sin in The Bullet Proof Poet, before the understated When the Dream Has Gone brilliantly continues the story of the heartbroken lovers in How Come It Never Rains with surprising delicacy.

Once again, they save the best ’til last though. Angel initially sounds like a continuation of the previous track given the similar vocal melody, but it soon takes on a life of its own. Weighing in at a positively hefty 3 minutes 19 seconds it tells a serious of near misses for the self destructive, deftly covering loss, depression and grief in one fell swoop. The verses are as ponderous and full of heartache as the other ballads, yet the chorus soars with an absolutely sublime hook before they throw off all previous restraint in an electrified finale of blistering guitars – perfection!

A Graveyard of Empty Bottles may be short at around 19 minutes in total, but it is a delightful little collection that inadvertently showcases a much-loved band at their very best. It captures everything that was great about Tyla J Pallas and his Dogs D’Amour, from their romantic, booze-fueled melancholy to their raunchy, blues-soaked balladeering. This is unpretentious, good old fashioned acoustic rock n roll and deserves twenty minutes of your time.