By Comma Chameleon - Semicolon Cancer; - 03/04/2008
The biggest frustration with Saturnalia is that it almost guarantees success on paper. The blueprint for the album appears to have been to establish an impressive atmospheric front, and up the ante with each step, or beat, as Mark Lanegan and Greg Dulli close in on the enemy, the listener, in a pincer movement. Most of the album is a brick wall of sound created by collaborators Joseph Arthur and Queens of the Stone Age member Troy van Leeuwen (among others) -- something that both vocalists try to break through as it surges higher and higher; but there is no contact, there is no attack, as if such force is beyond their control.
As there was in past efforts -- a subtly inoffensive yet passive-aggressive vocal effect in ancient Screaming Trees tunes by Lanegan, and a strained but confident heart-breaker’s wail of agony from former Afghan Whig and current Twilight Singer Greg Dulli -- these trademarks are gone, and the two lovely voices have awkwardly merged.
Regardless of other thoughts I’ve read concerning Saturnalia, the two voices do not perform well together, with the exception of the instances of Lanegan’s more substantive singing voice pushing to the fore, which it does quite often. You will not hear a meat grinder in Lanegan’s voice, nor Dulli’s raven shriek, but they both croon, and the voices merge as if they were handling a multi-tracker and pitch-shifter. The high production quality on the record, in muting the effectiveness of the finest talent and biggest selling point to every fan who has anticipated this recording, which is the screech and scrawl of vocal chords and collaborative instruments, has effectively ruined this album. The gloom is still there. But neither of these fine gentlemen was intended to sound so clean.
This does not sound like the Afghan Whigs, over a decade later, despite the vocal assistance from former Whig, Martina Topley-Bird; if any parallels must be made, then the groundwork for the tone of this album can be found in the rougher corners of Lanegan’s recent work, both solo and with acts such as QOTSA and Mondo Generator. Dulli’s voice has mellowed in tone, and if you can recall his screams in primo Whigs era, circa early nineties, forget it. He’s sunk with Lanegan to the dismal depths of a lightless sea, such as if their voices had been recorded underwater, or at least “seven stories underground.” The edges of both vocalists have been lost in the mix, something which previously had been a crucial element to each of these men in respective projects, in propelling their lyrics and expelling their emotion. The biggest and nicest surprise was found in Lanegan’s modernized worker’s song, the slightly groovy “Bete Noire.” Apart from that, the meat that these two feed off of, their penchant for choruses, is a feast of tattered remains.
Put simply, they sound like they’re not into it. They can’t enjoy the freedom of creativity that they have on their own, even recently, with Dulli’s Twilight Singers and Lanegan’s Soulsavers. Enjoy the atmosphere -- since the meal has lost its bite, you may not be asking for seconds. From this record, which is still good in many aspects, I can recognize the talent in these individuals whom I admire over almost all others in their own respects, and I will be anticipating the next releases by both, waiting on tenterhooks…or meat hooks.
Choice Tracks:"The Stations" and "Bete Noire"
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