The Basement

Illicit Hugs and Playground Thugs

(Zealous)

Record Review by Marcel Feldmar

This CD starts out with a little shadowed country feel crossing a rock ‘n’ roll river. There’s a little Waterboys action in the guitar strum that mixes with a Ryan Adams vocal rasp and meandering chords. There’s a little touch of some Nikki Sudden doing Bob Dylan, and there’s an American Flag waving a little between the verse and chorus. Some good ol’ times flow through the songs while still pulling at the here and now. It’s pop with a twang. It’s like the Replacements and Social Distortion deconstructed and then played on some back porch by a forgotten stretch of highway sometime in the '60s.

There’s a sadness to all of these songs, even though some of them are upbeat and strutting with some kinda feel-good beat. It’s a darkness buried in the lyrics, or in the slight sad vocals, or even in the way the notes hit. Mostly, though, I think it’s probably in the words, “And the songs of the doomed, and they echo around the room”… and that was one of the happier melodies. The song “Medicine Day” almost channels a young Bob Dylan, perhaps a bit faster and probably not wearing a porkpie hat, but the feel is definitely there, and then “Roadtrip” almost pushes more into the 16 Horsepower realm, but not quite, sticking closer to the roads of a Whiskeytown. It’s addictive, Illicit Hugs and Playground Thugs, almost sneaking up on you, as you are thinking about how old the songs feel, suddenly it strikes you that they’re just new and familiar, and sad… but comforting. And the CD ends with “The Cheapest Mistake” which slowly moves like a mellow ballad that falls somewhere between Paul Westerberg and Tom Waits. Somewhere between “The Heart of Saturday Night” and “Swingin’ Party.” It’s like you know where you’re going, but you’re a little lost, but it’s alright, ‘cause you were invited, and everyone will be happy to see you when you get there.