Pound For Pound
The beauty of [a]Royal Trux[/a] lies in a combination of grime, dirt and sleaze.
Rock'n'roll, to these West Virginians, means making a personal document that is at once chaotic, seemingly random [I]and yet [/I]very carefully thought out. For all the looseness of 'Deep Country Sorcerer', its central coda - where 'Pound For Pound' first starts getting really wigged-out - could only have been accomplished by people who work things out in advance. Even the voodoo drum excursion that frames 'Doctor Gone' leaves a feeling of careful orchestration.
Where [a]Royal Trux[/a] really let themselves go is in the obtuse subject matter and its freaky delivery. After two albums of expert digital manipulation, a suite of gritty, sometimes languid songs about jealousy ('Accelerator'), love of music ('Call Out The Lions'), and love of love (the rootsy 'Small Thief') shows the couple's refusal to do the expected is intact. And we're better off for it.
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