Written by: Dave Cantrell
Let’s just say it straight out: sometimes in this sometimes troubled nearly always chaotic life you just need a fucking rock’n’roll album to come charging out of the shadows and lay it all down solid and unrepentant-like. Which isn’t to say, just to be super clear, that said record shouldn’t feature a surplus of nuance tucked inside its otherwise wonderfully plangent sound folder and, yes and indeed, that same said record should also not be shy about its roots and tremors and the beams of future past that power it forward but instead embrace them with the proverbial gusto and ladies and gentlemen and those inbetween allow us to present one of Chi-town’s finest, The Claudettes.
Somewhat reconstituted since their 2020 debut High Times in the Dark – mainstays Johnny Iguana (keys vox and primary songwriter) and Zach Verdoorn (bass vox and guitars) are now joined by singer extraordinaire Rachel Williams along with Michael Caskey bringing the beat on drums and percussion – whatever level of caché that earlier effort brought their way is sure to be gloriously overshadowed by what we have before us today, seeing as how rock fucking solid it is.
From opener “(You Are My) Whole World” that, against some predictive odds, begins with something of a sylvan intro before launching just about immediately into a passion-studded rocknroll ballad for the books, Williams’ commanding blues-soaked vocal joined by seasoned bluesman John Primer resulting in nothing less that a shiver-inducing corker and, yeah, just like that we’re off and runnin’, rockin’ with a decidedly soulful slant.
Take the next-up “Winter Came While You Were Gone” that, drenched in a longing made even, um, longinger by the classic stabs of organ from Mr. Iguana, swirls with subtle depth that, as it (unsurprisingly) turns out, is not exactly a rare quality on this record.
From the sultry flirt and groove of “That Could Be Arranged” through the funkified blues of “Touch You Back” featuring guest Ella Feingold’s funky-as-fuck riffing to the slow steamy swing of “Whirlpool” as it pulls you deeper and deeper into its namesake with a bluesy sass to the slow, hypnotic , damn near vampish “No Matter How Much” that in its last half minute graduates into a full barrel-rolled romp before ceding the floor to the wholly arresting trio of tracks that takes this record out – “The Aftermath”‘s clave-clinked, piano-plinked and oddly mesmerizing crawl through its title’s ruins; the frankly mad “Don’t Give It Up to the Thieves” and “There Is No Other Side” that’s as dandy a valediction as a record this strong deserves – and damn if that ending doesn’t arrive just in the nick of, as to step any deeper into this (exceedingly finely wrought) maelstrom may make it damn near impossible to get out.
So, yes, as it happens, Garage Glamour lands (on, of course, the trusty Pravda imprint) with a retro authority that throughout boosts it into that cherished territory called “timeless.” The album works on every level it’s meaning to and does so with an easy-swinging authoritative suss that’s not just rare as polished silver in a dustry roadside dive but in the process elevates itself pretty damn close to being untouchable by comparison. In short, great shit straight up. [get your copy pronto here]
