Deadman

Our Eternal Ghosts

(One Little Indian)

Record Review by Adam McKibbin

One-half of Our Eternal Ghosts ranks among the very best of alt-country albums from 2005.  The open-road feel of “When the Music’s Not Forgotten” is a beautiful lead-in for the record, and when Steven and Sherilyn Collins take to the microphones, they sound a little like Jackson Browne and Emmylou Harris.  It’s a lofty comparison, but an earned one, and one that also acknowledges that there is no wheel-inventing going on here.  The opener invokes a “city made of gold” that fills with “a sound that I’d never heard before.”  Our Eternal Ghosts is not that sort of record, although it does throw a few curveballs into an otherwise traditional mix.  But to be remembered, music does not need to be previously unheard—if anything, for better or worse, it’s the familiar that has the better chance of preservation.  As that song title suggests, this is music that believes in the transformative power of song, and as Collins and Collins have been affected by Springsteen and Dylan, so they seek to carry a similar torch for other travelers.

“Won’t Be Long” is built on a delicate piano line and when Steven Collins starts talk-singing, Shawn Mullins-style, most listeners won’t foresee the powerful chorus, in which Collins is supported by some passionate, from-the-gut backing vocals.  The pristine, precise quality of the record is also helped by producer Mark Howard, former right hand man of Daniel Lanois.

Our Eternal Ghosts trips, though, when Deadman veer further into Southern gothic-folk, as on “Werewolves.”  The ambience feels a little canned there, as it does on the willowy but lackluster “Slow Dance.”  For those with a lot of music on their plates, it may not be an album that gets a lot of top-to-bottom listens.  The best songs, though, are ripe for playing to death.