“When your spirit's surrendered and forsaken your flesh, and
you wander the earth with no comfort or rest….” – Sons of Perdition
Greetings kiddies, once again your
horrid host rejoins you in yet another puzzling postulation as we step slowly
towards All Hallows Eve. Today, your ol’ pal Eerie Evan is going to do
something I haven’t touched on yet and that is music.
Oh you kids with your gee whiz Justin Bieber and awh-shucks break up songs. You’ve never felt real sorrow. You’ve never felt real despair. I’m talking about the kind that makes you want to climb into the nearest pill bottle or jug of booze and never come out. As the ol’ couplet goes: ‘If whiskey was a river and I were a duck, I’d swim to the bottom and never come up.’ I’m talking about the kind of wretched agony that the foundation of any good country song.
What is that ya say? You’ve only heard of Big and Rich? Toby Keith? Blake Shelton? Well, let me show you something. A record that did change my ol’ wretched life and made me smile a black toothed grin. A little thing called The Kingdom is On Fire. I ran into Sons of Perdition, the brainchild of one Zebulon Whately (related to the Massachusetts Whately clan, I do believe) purely by accident. I was out and about, surfing the web, looking for anything I could about the comic Road to Perdition when I got a funny notion in my noggin to type Sons of Perdition and see where it took me. Skipping a few pages of uninteresting content, I came upon Zebulon’s domain where I gave The Kingdom is On Fire my first listen.
How does it sound you ask? If I had to pin it, I’d have to say it resembles the “wailing and gnashing of teeth” that a Calvinist might find most appealing. The slowly plodding guitar is matched by a gloomy, unearthly moan uttering not from Zebulon’s mouth as much as his core. It is clear that there is no salvation here. All are equally damned. In other words, this is the type of music that Jonah Hex might find appealing.
If you’ve ever bemoaned the lack of storytelling in music these days – look no further pilgrim. Whately shines at telling lurid tales that would be at home next to descriptions of the ill-fated Donner Party or the unfortunate citizens in the film Wisconsin Death Trip. Your ears will be treated to ‘The Party’ where a man is possessed by the spirit of the Wendigo and puts his family to the axe, ‘Burial at Sea’ which details a dreary tale in which a man’s family literally goes down with the ship, and perhaps my personal favorite ‘Saw Jones’ a kind of Dr. Frankenstein meets the Confederacy story set in the Civil War.
I could keep going, but why bother? It is music after all and it is best understood when heard. So rest your weary soul, and listen to a tale of woe.
Like it? Why drop by Zeb's page? I can personally attest that he is a nice guy, and in no way has any designs on your organs. Personally attest.
Until next time kiddies.
Greetings kiddies, once again your
horrid host rejoins you in yet another puzzling postulation as we step slowly
towards All Hallows Eve. Today, your ol’ pal Eerie Evan is going to do
something I haven’t touched on yet and that is music. Oh you kids with your gee whiz Justin Bieber and awh-shucks break up songs. You’ve never felt real sorrow. You’ve never felt real despair. I’m talking about the kind that makes you want to climb into the nearest pill bottle or jug of booze and never come out. As the ol’ couplet goes: ‘If whiskey was a river and I were a duck, I’d swim to the bottom and never come up.’ I’m talking about the kind of wretched agony that the foundation of any good country song.
What is that ya say? You’ve only heard of Big and Rich? Toby Keith? Blake Shelton? Well, let me show you something. A record that did change my ol’ wretched life and made me smile a black toothed grin. A little thing called The Kingdom is On Fire. I ran into Sons of Perdition, the brainchild of one Zebulon Whately (related to the Massachusetts Whately clan, I do believe) purely by accident. I was out and about, surfing the web, looking for anything I could about the comic Road to Perdition when I got a funny notion in my noggin to type Sons of Perdition and see where it took me. Skipping a few pages of uninteresting content, I came upon Zebulon’s domain where I gave The Kingdom is On Fire my first listen.
How does it sound you ask? If I had to pin it, I’d have to say it resembles the “wailing and gnashing of teeth” that a Calvinist might find most appealing. The slowly plodding guitar is matched by a gloomy, unearthly moan uttering not from Zebulon’s mouth as much as his core. It is clear that there is no salvation here. All are equally damned. In other words, this is the type of music that Jonah Hex might find appealing.
If you’ve ever bemoaned the lack of storytelling in music these days – look no further pilgrim. Whately shines at telling lurid tales that would be at home next to descriptions of the ill-fated Donner Party or the unfortunate citizens in the film Wisconsin Death Trip. Your ears will be treated to ‘The Party’ where a man is possessed by the spirit of the Wendigo and puts his family to the axe, ‘Burial at Sea’ which details a dreary tale in which a man’s family literally goes down with the ship, and perhaps my personal favorite ‘Saw Jones’ a kind of Dr. Frankenstein meets the Confederacy story set in the Civil War.
I could keep going, but why bother? It is music after all and it is best understood when heard. So rest your weary soul, and listen to a tale of woe.
Like it? Why drop by Zeb's page? I can personally attest that he is a nice guy, and in no way has any designs on your organs. Personally attest.
Until next time kiddies.
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