Alejandro Escovedo

You know how you only need a single look at an album cover to pass judgment on the quality of music that it represents? It may not necessarily be the case as the opposite can also be true, but sometimes you can’t help but assimilate the terribleness of what’s outside with what’s inside and, be sure, this occurs well before ever hearing it. I’ll often time find myself thinking I won’t like something prior to listening and I had that sort of knee-jerk reaction to Alejandro Escovedo’s latest effort, Real Animal. As a result, I had this preconceived notion of just plain bad going into it. This particular album cover shows the tiny framed Escovedo sitting on what can conceivably be considered some sort of suitcase wearing an all black skin tight getup with matching black sunglasses and these unnecessarily pointy boots that you’d think once belonged to a Spanish Conquistador. He’s straddling what looks to be a brand new Gibson SG and casting this Statue of Liberty sized shadow. Real Animal is written in this really ugly blood red font that you’d expect to see used for really bad biker tattoos. It screams at the top of its lungs of someone well aware of being past their prime who’s at the same time trying to maintain what’s left of the rock ‘n’ roll persona they once embodied. Escovedo looks like he’s not burning out, but fading away.

Good thing I’m not completely closed minded because, all in all, Real Animal is an enjoyable listen and a credible piece of hardnosed blue collar rock. It gets things started on the album’s highest note, “Always A Friend,” an upbeat rocker with overlapping strings reminiscent of some of Springsteen’s more recent work; particularly the self titled track off his 9/11 response, The Rising. “Always A Friend” is one of many of Real Animal’s offerings that has an articulated orchestral accompaniment. What can be said of “Always A Friend” in terms of well-thought, fully developed arrangements can be said for the entire album. Everything seems to be placed right where it needs to be with the utmost pinpoint precision.

“People (We’re Only Gonna Live So Long)” is a delta based blues number that’s driven by dual harmonicas. This one’s got some technically impressive slide guitar fills and harmonica solos radiating from every direction. It’s a bit of a departure from the rest of the album as nothing else really has that same kind of delta feel, but it also doesn’t come across as out of place.

To provide balance there are also a handful of ballads. “Hollywood Hills” is by far and away the best of the bunch as far as those go. It starts off with a bit of light orchestration and is followed by sparse acoustic guitar strumming and Escovedo’s shaky vocals instead of the more common approach on this album of the other way around. Escovedo painfully pines over a former love and through the incredibly ear pleasing chorus and gorgeous sentiment of, “Happiness can’t be bought or sold. You shared what you had, but you gave me your love. Gave me your love; your precious love.”

While this album is far from stellar, it still supports the old adage of not judging a book by its cover.

Highlight Track: “Always A Friend”

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