CLAY JARVIS :: Clay Jarvis ~ 6.0
CJ Records | CJ-113
Clay Jarvis is another brave soul who did it himself: he founded CJ Records, on which this platter was released, and he composed all of the album's nine tracks. The stark, slightly abstract artwork suggests that the recording may be a confrontational no wave statement. However, one's fears are put to rest by reading the song titles on the back side ("Peaceful Paradise," "Smiling Face," and "We Gotta Love" are a few examples). The sequencing is curious: while most of the album is a full band effort, it begins with two gentle, stripped-down acoustic numbers, giving the impression that this may be more of a loner recording. Then "Roll Me on Down the Line" kicks the doors open with its saloon piano and drunken boogie. The performance is gleefully chaotic, with the musicians so loose that it sounds like they're playing different songs in spots. Jarvis's gritty vocal may have taken inspiration from Danny Joe Brown, and the volume of his voice depends on whether he's right on the mic or if he looks down to check his guitar playing or turns his head to guide the band into a new part. While the ensemble tracks on the album all contain this ragged charm, the acoustic songs sound were recorded with more attention to nuance. One of them, the LP opener "Smiling Face," is a good example of beginner songwriting. It's a simple love song with a pleasant vibe, but it doesn't have a build or a strong hook, and in the end, it might be a little too cute. The other acoustic songs follow suit. The full band rockers dominate the album, and they also offer mixed results. The rather brief "Between the Lines" touches on drug use, and "Burning Band" aims for a playful cockiness often heard on Bo Diddley hits. The rowdy "Gimme All Ya Got" ("before you give it all away") is about a final goodbye before a woman leaves for good. Over a Skynyrd-style chicken-fried backbeat, saxophones honk randomly and Jarvis performs like Kenneth Higney after some guitar lessons and a six-pack of Budweiser. Seasons of restlessness and conflict are contemplated in the psych trip "Summertime," a celebration of youth that actually conjures up a hot, swampy evening in the South. The song's introduction features a screaming fuzz guitar solo that recalls Springsteen's frenzied wailing in "Adam Raised a Cain." I suspect this distinct soloing, prominent on a few other cuts, is performed by second credited guitarist Marlon Nutting. A second guitarist wouldn't be needed if Jarvis were capable of that style of playing. The album doesn't overstay its welcome and it ends with a positive outlook (the nifty line "we're gonna be so strong" repeated in "We Gotta Love"), but it also feels insubstantial as it closes. Some of the material could have used a little more creative juice to make it memorable. As with many independently released oddities, the authenticity of Clay Jarvis is to be admired, but the quirkiness around the songs leaves a stronger impression than the songs themselves.
January 24, 2021
