AA Bondy – When the Devil’s Loose

To listen to 2007’s American Hearts, you’d think that someone had unearthed an old Civil War time capsule of sheet music, and then hired the ghost of Robert E. Lee to perform it all. I did. Truth be told, there was nothing supernatural about it, save perhaps the war between Jesus and Satan raging in the soul of one AA Bondy, who’d left his old rock outfit, Verbena, to follow some holy calling. Bondy’s a preacher now, in some sense – he’s a’riding his horse o’er the war-torn South, Bible in one hand, bottle of whisky in the other, slurring out sermons of repentance and hellfire.

Is it an act? Maybe, but it’s a good one, and it’s one he expands on without a stitch of departure on his sophomore effort, When the Devil’s Loose. He brings a full band this time around, a glut of road-weary troubadours only too-willing to join Bondy in channeling bygone spirits of old-timey bluesmen. While many singer/songwriters go overboard with their first backing band, Bondy’s learned a thing or two from his mishaps with Verbena. There’s an airy capaciousness that this band brings; while the extra instruments add some new layers to Bondy’s sound, it’s the haunted emptiness between those sounds that’s most intriguing.

On first listen, Bondy seems to get out most of his best ideas in the first few songs, and then brings them all back again for the next few. However, repeated listenings unearth new tricks that hint at a reserved genius. The plodding melancholy of “A Slow Parade” evokes the end of the world, assuming the apocalypse happens bit by bit, over a million years. The piano plinking lullaby, “On the Moon” reveals a soft-side to this hardened soul, as does “I Can See the Pines are Dancing,” which has threads of ’60s pop woven throughout. But “False River” might just be his darkest yet – that song’s emotional zenith has a gothic, almost evil quality hanging about it in windswept tatters. He’s trying to add a little clip to his generally even cadence, and it’s his smartest move – whenever he forgets or fails in this, the album suffers.

The emotion Bondy knows best is resignation, which tinges most of these tracks (and none so much as the title one). But he’s spiced up his palate since the last go around. Though still a bit heavy-handed with his lyrics, as befits an itinerant preacher, he’s also more imaginative and earthy, with a few songs about “her” to balance out all the talk about “Him.” It’s a nice touch, that serves both to make Bondy’s character a little easier to swallow, and adds some extra weight to the times when God is invoked.

So, AA Bondy isn’t looking to burgeon beyond where he’s at right now. There’s a contentment in his particular brand of blues – and it’s a sound unique enough to keep him from being grouped in with the other singer/songwriters who are so popular with the kids these days. I say, well-played. In reaching to the past, AA Bondy is actually assuring his longevity.

Tagged as: Acoustic, Blues

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