Blast from the Past

The Dogs D’Amour – A Graveyard of Empty Bottles Vol. 1

Posted on by edwardlayland

With tales of love and loss, maverick heroes and loveable rogues, The Dogs D’Amour‘s mini album A Graveyard of Empty Bottles was one of the most delightful surprise releases I’ve ever encountered. Sandwiched between the Dynamite Jet Saloon and Errol Flynn albums, it came just over a month after the superb How Come It Never Rains had flirted with breaking the top forty. It would prove to be the premature peak of the band’s success and showcases their songwriting at it’s finest.

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.

Blast from the Past – Warrior Soul

Posted on by edwardlayland

In the interest of moving forwards, the “Overlooked or Underrated” section has been revamped and renamed as “Blast from the Past”, so as to encompass a wider variety of past releases that may be worth cosying up to once again. First up….

warrior-soulIf ever there was a band with a niche it was Kory Clarke‘s Warrior Soul – too serious for the hard rock crowd, too hard rock for the grunge crowd and too political for an American audience that had partied so hard they wanted to wear plaid and stay in their bedrooms. In the UK though, some of us embraced their anarchistic politicised stance railing against the “system”, the media, the status quo. To say they were underrated wouldn’t be entirely accurate as they were more than well received critically, but they got seriously overlooked by the various CD buying tribes of the time. They probably would have flourished under the musical freedom of the internet where fans no longer run in packs.

Anyway, it is their 1990 debut album, ‘Last Decade, Dead Century’, that has most stood the test of time and is most deserving of a revisit. Jam packed with massive riffs, they achieved an enviable fullness to their guitar sound that had a rolling effect, rather than the usual crunch crunch riffing of most rock bands. They were not afraid to experiment rhythmically either and Clarke made for an excellent front man – behind his massive mane of hair there was a seriously talented vocalist that could rasp with pure vitriol, yet could more than hold a tune. On Last Decade, they create an apocalyptic vision of an America where the system is failing and it’s overrun with drugs and crime.

The A-side of the vinyl, the first five tracks of the CD, is a superbly balanced selection of everything that made this band so damn cool. The pounding of the drums and opening riff of ‘I See The Ruins’ opens proceedings with a sense of foreboding, before the main groove laden riff powers along, underpinning Clarke’s apocalyptic view of nineties America. It segues into the massive ‘We Cry Out’ with the vaguest hint of Goth to the riff, before the plaintive cry of ‘The Losers’ celebrates the disaffected of the world.

However, it was track 4, the totally badass ‘Downtown’ that first got me into Warrior Soul. What a huge song. It’s chugging riff and pounding bass hammer away relentlessly to provide a hard driving back drop to teenage rebellion and the seedier side of life. Throw in the swirling riffs of the hypnotic ‘Tripping on Ecstasy’ and you have a killer first half to a record.

Side 2 is no less accomplished, although the vitriolic rant of ‘Four More Years’ has at least one foot in the pretentious and breaks the rhythm of the record a little. Even so, Kory Clarke is an artist and it’s admirable of him to push artistic boundaries and challenge the listener a little. ‘Superpower Dreamland’ immediately puts things back on track with its mid-tempo driving rock groove and winning hook. Then comes the totally killer ‘Charlie’s Out of Prison’ – what a great fucking rock song – it’s got riffs, groove, attitude, impeccably timed stops and quite simply nails it.

There are more great moments in the closing tracks, whether it’s the slow boiling ‘Blown Away’, the atmospheric desolation of ‘Lullaby’, which showcases Clarke’s versatility, or the rolling riffs and cool hooks of ‘In Conclusion’, neatly capturing their signature sound. Basically, the grating interlude of ‘Four More Years’ aside, their isn’t the vaguest hint of filler on this fine record. Every track stands up until today, making this an album well worth revisiting.

Warrior Soul are actually still going, albeit as more of a touring outfit than anything else. Even so, their back catalogue features some seriously cool music and is worth sniffing around Spotify to see what other gems can be unearthed.