5 out of 5

Label: Temporary Residence

Producer: Kurt Ballou

Well god damn.  Sometimes you make a statement about an album and it only is true because it is true – such as “I knew Old Wounds was going to be an absolutely amazing effing album as soon as the drums kicked in on track one.”  Because, of course, plenty of albums have great track ones with great drum bits and then you get to track two and you wonder what the dilly-duff pamilly-o.

But I swear it, man, there’s some element of restraint here that doesn’t scream ‘first track’ – rather like the album can’t wait to flatten you on your ass but everyone in the band is doing their best to tamp it down for a few minutes before letting loose.  And so as that sick bass line leads into our drums, leads into an explosion of guitar, with the “I’m calm I’m calm I’m calm” vocals teeter-tottering atop… you can just sense there’s greatness happening.  It is ca-linched with track two, “Old Skin,” where the rattling bursts of our intro song give way to a harsh thwomp upside the head of rock… and then Young Widows takes us on a tour of how to do heavy the right way, shuttling between quieter moments that are nonetheless blisteringly sharp in delivery – clear guitar, clear tones captured masterfully (from some live recordings, apparently) by Kurt Ballou – to tracks that make you want to throw chairs through windows (“21st Century Invention”) and then finding the time and space to sludge it up (“The Heat is Here”), a full tour of styles delivered in a slim package that ends right when it should.  Then you’re even more thankful for that lead-in track, because you can start right over and have your ears nurtured a bit.

I realize that YW’s follow-up had its fair share of critical acclaim, and I like to stand by a band’s evolution… but Old Wounds is the feckin’ album for me.  Their Jade Tree debut was a bit too angular lyrically and though it found its punky beat, the songs seemed to be pushed too hard to sound slightly off, so nothing quite gelled to perfection.  “In and Out…,” the album after this one, pushed the spaciness up, comparison to Floyd abounding, lead singer Steve Sidoni bringing his forceful delivery down to a rumbly monotone.  The pacing slows, the lyrics become more contemplative.  Wounds gets to be in the middle.  The lyrics are more open and passionate, but injected with definite anger and chant-along discontent, and the music sways just far enough loud and soft to find a groove.

Mwah.  It’s a good sign when you have an album nigh-memorized within a few days of purchase.