Red Devil Dawn

"You Threw A Spark" and "Sweet Marie" should be surpises to most fans, with their lighthearted and joyous lyrics. You still get the somber here with "Carrion Doves" & "Bad Man Coming" but you're not left feeling as sorry for Mr. Bachmann because he seems to have left himself out of the songs this time. Albeit, without losing his stake in the compositions.

My lone remonstration would be that, similiar to previous releases, a few songs come across as "rushed". Some breathing room here and there would round out the compositions a little better. I'm not pretending to know more about composition than Mr. Bachmann (after all, All The Nation's Airports is flawless) but base this opinion on my guttural reaction.

Raise your Crooked Fingers and shout.

Bachmann's transformation from leader of the aforementioned ragtag bunch of Carolina indie rock messiahs to proprietor of Crooked Fingers has always seemed sort of odd. As recently as last week, fans debated which act they prefer on the Crooked Fingers message board ("I wish time froze with Vee Vee," moans one), despite the fact that Bachmann is four releases deep into his latest project, a marriage of bluegrass pub stompers and jaded eloquence.

Not that the evolution isn't remarkable. The Archers employed uncomfortable fistfuls of guitar and belted lyrics that fomented audiences into frothing masses. The first time I saw the band, kids literally hung from the rafters of the club. Upside-down. Crooked Fingers, on the other hand, offers a quieter, more introspective experience structured around an off-center amalgamation of guitars, strings, keyboards and canned beats (as did Bachmann's erstwhile AoL side-project Barry Black, for that matter). Reports indicate that the band can kill a crowd playing acoustic instruments on the floor of a nightclub, as they did during a tour last year.

The first two Crooked Fingers records catalog Bachmann's continued evolution. His vocals, once delivered in gruff, chesty bellows (as in the Archers' "Audiowhore"), have mellowed into a flowing baritone akin to Neil Diamond's. Crooked Fingers' debut and Bring on the Snakes exhibit wider and more cluttered instrumentations, as Bachmann toyed with complex arrangements of more traditional styles of music.

Listening to Red Devil Dawn, Crooked Finger's first release on Merge, suggests that some figurative clouds may have receded for Bachmann. A renewed concentration on electric guitars smoothens the compositions' edges, complementing the steady use of bowed double bass to anchor the bottom end of the songs. Atmospheric keyboards and a dry drum machine continue to color the latest record, as they did on previous records.

While Bachmann's fixation with decay persists (the album's opening line is "Dead in the sun and covered with glue" and the closing number is titled "Carrion Doves"), his new songs are imbued with a greater sense of optimism than ever due to the use of more pop-oriented chord arrangements than previously employed. And while those earlier records sounded more folksy, with Red Devil Dawn Bachmann edges tentatively back in the direction of rock music, albeit with a more mature, softer touch.

That softer touch leaves the door open for Bachmann to explore some new territory: love songs. Two tunes on the record bearing women's names ("Sweet Marie" and "Angelina") approach the realm of ballads, something of a stretch for a guy who half-hollered his way through his singing duties with the Archers. Additionally, the chorus of "Disappear" features the plea "Cary don't cry, I'm going to disappear," which we assume is sung to a person and not the suburb of Raleigh, NC. Not surprisingly, Bachmann pulls off the overtly romantic material, relying on restrained, world-weary singing and smooth string arrangements. Classical fans will note that "Disappear" heavily references Pachelbel's Canon in the chorus.

Interestingly, Red Devil Dawn has an even lower gear. Lightly pulsing bass and plinky mandolin give "Boy With (100) Hands" a downright tender, lullaby-ish feel. Of course lullabies in Bachmann's world are just as sinister as those of Robert Smith's, as evidenced by the lyrics to the downbeat "Don't Say a Word": Those tears in the wine/have burrowed down in her spine/here they come again falling like a driving rain/to take a little piece of her and wash away/so nothing left can be saved.

Though there is no shortage of beautiful, pensive downers on Red Devil Dawn, there are some pointedly upbeat moments too, including the horn-heavy rocker "You Threw a Spark." Built around the same chord progression as that awful James song "Laid," Bachmann salvages the melody with his dry vocals and the almost-over-the-top horns. Horns also open "Sweet Marie," an upbeat number in which Bachmann boasts he is going to go kick the ass of his romantic rival.

Fans will eat up this new record, as the songwriting rivals, and often exceeds, the best of Crooked Fingers' prior curious work. Those who never got on board with the Crooked Fingers sound may find reason to reconsider, as Red Devil Dawn touts Bachmann's most focused work of his post-Archers career. ...