Wit's End
[Domino; 2011]
California native and nomad Cass McCombs' silky, hushed vocal style is complemented throughout Wit's End by what is a decidedly more sober (or perhaps somber) affair than 2009's Catacombs. With none of the lilting "Dreams-Come-True Girl" throwback pop, Wit's End finds McCombs combining his usual themes of love and loss ("County Line") with darker themes of death and despair ("Buried Alive, "Saturday"). The entire album is steeped in an understated but apparent darkness. Lulled, minor key piano, patient percussion, and McCombs' beautiful yet eerie vocal work requires a patient listen. And despite standouts "Lonely Doll," " Buried Alive," and "Memory's Stain," all of which show the most musical variety on the album--especially "Memory's Stain" which draws out to sullen brass and hushed accordion a la Robert Wyatt--McComb's vocals and songwriting are as sharp as ever. ("I have a confesssion / In the form of a question / How could you entertain / Trading know-how / For a stain?") I'm not sure there's a better candidate to guide us through such dark themes with such poetry. Elliott Smith, eat your heart out.
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