What in the hell happened to ex-Verbena frontman Auguste Arthur
Bondy? Less than six years ago, he was leading his Birmingham, Ala.,
blues-punk trio into unnervingly loud guitar-rock territory. After
major-label releases earned lukewarm praise, Bondy broke up the band,
moved to upstate New York and recorded his solo debut, American
Hearts, in a weathered barn using an old analog machine and a
single acoustic guitar. Critics were unanimous in their admiration,
calling the album everything from “archetypal” to “Dylanesque.”
Still, how does a guy go from punching out metallic riffs like “Hot
Blood” to fashioning an elegant melody like “Lover’s Waltz”? Perhaps he
sold his soul.
Regardless, Bondy’s high-decibel background recedes further into his
rearview with his second folk-music effort, When the Devil’s
Loose. This time, he holed up in a Mississippi water-tank town and
enlisted friends to back him up on piano, bass and drums, playing a
milder Crazy Horse to Bondy’s Neil Young. The latter is a touchstone
for “A Slow Parade,” a chugging ballad at once mournful and menacing
and with lyrics of epic desolation—featuring broken horses,
cremated remains and an infinite sea. There’s the Otis
Redding-on-Codeine lullaby of “To the Morning,” so classic in its
construction you’ll mistake it for a cover of an old Stax 45.
Confirmation of Bondy’s devilishly awesome powers, though, lies in
“The Mercy Wheel,” a highway-blasted tune of faith in a faithless
world.
This article appears in Sep 3-9, 2009.
