Increasingly beardy Kentucky boy Will (Palace Brothers) Oldham’s had a few alter-egos in his prolific decade-plus career at the whispery coalface of guilt, love, sex, death and losing one’s sternly Biblical religion. Generally, they’re variously-monikered versions of himself, but this time out in his bonny and princely guise, Will’s also got a flesh-and-blood sidekick in ex-Chavez guitarist Sweeney (who appears, on the back sleeve, to be taking steps to grow his own Old Testament-style face fuzz). And they appear to be having a downbeat whale of a time.
Small wonder. With Sweeney contributing backing vocals and music that slip-slides from desultory strums and frozen drones to molasses-sweet licks and muddy, turbulent Neil Young-esque chords that collectively underscore the lurking unease in Oldham’s holy-and-homely, damned-and-homespun, thee-and-thou words, Will’s work has seldom had a stronger sonic setting. It’s still got his trademark weary minimalist dignity – the full-on horns-and-showtunes album is still to be recorded, though you wouldn’t count it out – but the overall effect isn’t as stark as some of his past work.
If you want pretty and hushed, there’s late-night listening a-plenty here, and you can imagine drawing in the unwary with at least a few tracks. A warm, rippling “Beast For Thee” has a prayerful comfort and Simon & Garfunkel-esque flickers; a lap-steel and gospelly “Lift Us Up” uplifts accordingly; “Death In The Sea”’s stately, churchly pace has a lingering sweetness. “Bed Is For Sleeping” lullabies and sighs and fits Oldham’s cracked and tremulous vocals – pipes that make Thom Yorke at his spindliest sound like Tom Jones – like a velvet glove. And “Only Someone Running” – which boasts the album’s strongest melody, wonderfully sympathetic and almost off-mic harmonies from Sweeney and a delicious folk-classic hummability – will surely appear when the daunting Best Of Billy collection is curated.
On the other hand, there’s the odd moment to make you jump, notably in the mid-song sturm-und-drang crashes and surprisingly butch vocal delivery of “Goat And Ram”. Of course, Oldham’s never needed decibels to scare the bejesus out of you, as the ghostly keen of “Blood Embrace” demonstrates via equal parts DH Lawrence-esque sexual jealousy, murder-ballad vengeance straight from the Nick Cave drawer and a melodramatic snippet of adulterous dialogue for good measure.
All of which probably makes the scrawly adolescent-weirdo sleeve doodles of rapacious naked women and someone punching a prone figure to a bloody pulp just that little bit more pertinent. Ditto the deadpan lines about spanking, twisted fingers and torn dresses in “What Are You”. There’s no obvious clue who “Superwolf” is, but this particular Oldham nickname likely has less to do with wolf-whistles than very sharp teeth.
