Fresh off a disastrous Royal Trux reunion (which Ethan Covey described in vivid detail here, to much band/label/publicist consternation), Neil Hagerty convenes an unlikely crew of mostly Denver-area musicians to work his loose, incendiary grooves. It’s the only response, really, and it’s a good one. Knuckleball Express is the best Howling Hex album since Nightclub Version of the Eternal.
In opener “Lies,” Hagerty musters a big, muscular, riff-based foundation, squiggling his signature anarchic leads over a drag race roar of bass and rhythm guitar. “If you want to die, believe in lies,” he yowls, in that singularly Hagerty-ish combination of heat and cool. Influences, as usual, range from 1970s Stones to electric Chicago blues to a noise-fuzzed, slouching, southern rock vibe. Intervals of goofiness lighten up the murk. “Mr. Chicken” (with guest vocals from Mary Timony/King Tuff backer Nicole Lawrence) swaggers, blares, bangs and broods, but also muses idly about its folkloric main character. “Rootbeer Mother” strings spooky spoken word across psychedelic reverberations, but again, the title is objectively funny.
Hagerty gets a great deal out of mostly unknown players, who hadn’t worked together much before the eight-day recording session. His drummer (Kenneth Boykins) and keyboard player (Kristine Shafer) both give lessons to school kids when not making Howling Hex records. Ethan Howland, the bass player, shows up in google searches mostly through a series of home-made Youtube clips. And yet, the music is burly and cohesive. This is the most tuneful, least meandering batch of tunes in the recent Howling Hex catalog; there’s a buzzing, surging purpose in the way these songs build and progress. The sound is dirty. It wouldn’t be a Howling Hex album if it weren’t. But there’s enough sense and structure under the hood to make these songs make sense.
No one really knows what happened with the last Royal Trux album or whose fault it was or how much Hagerty contributed. But Knuckleball Express is the best possible way to respond, by not responding, just making another snaggle-toothed rocker of an album with a ragged crew of newcomers following the pied piper call of Neil Hagerty.
