P.W. Long
Remembered (Touch & Go) P.W. Long, ex-singer/guitar player for Chicago’s heavy roots bangers Mule, has put together an incredibly angry and passionate disc on this third outing. Long’s backwoods yowl, relocated to the Lone Star State, is hard to categorize; guitars that slash and clang rather than twang, and a weariness to the lyrics and their delivery that makes it real music for real people. At times, Long calls to mind a punk without the posturing (“It Just Don’t Seem to Matter Now,” “Memphis Kids”). Even the songs that wax a bit more contemplative (“Better,” “Diamondbacks”) have a jagged beauty to them that makes them as dangerous as a box of broken glass. It’s blue-collar angst and exhaustion set to music; check out “Court House,” the tale of four weeks in jail for no good reason. It’s whiskey-bent loser’s rock, but it’s the anthems of a loser who’s not gonna be kept down. P.W. Long may not be what you want to play at your next party, but there’s an undeniable power behind his songwriting and playing. Think Uncle Tupelo with less broody introspection and a whole hell of a lot more vitriol.
This article appears in October 10 • 2003.