Desert Sessions - Volume 9 & 10

Desert Sessions
Volume 9 & 10
Label
Erstveröffentlichung	01.10.2003
Format	CD
Lieferzeit	1 – 8 Werktage
Preis	8,95 € (inkl. 19% MwSt. zzgl. Versand)

Rezension

Neues Werk des Projektes um Steinzeitkönig Josh Homme. Zu den Sessions in die Wüste gestellten sich alte Freunde und Mitstreiter voriger Sessions, dazu erstmals und sich äusserst wirkungsvoll in Szene setzend P.J. Harvey.

Review

"The middle of the desert the place to misbehave. Every few years, Josh Homme heads deep into the Mojave to fuck around a little, to carry out the secretive and powerful rituals of the Desert Sessions. Last February, he initiated a new chapter of this elite project. "Come out here and be a little vulnerable," he told his comrades, as they assembled at the Rancho De La Luna studio in Joshua Tree for an intensive week of recording.
Rock star bullshit was off the menu. Most mornings, Homme cooked eggs for the group - a diverse bunch including Twiggy Ramirez, freshly escaped from Marilyn Mansonþs band, as well as Desert Sessions regulars Chris Goss, Dave Catching and Alain Johannes, and recent Queens Of The Stone Age recruits Troy Van Leeuwen and Joey Castillo. Dean Ween made the coffee. And out on the porch the most notable newcomer, Polly Jean Harvey, worked on a dust-spattered fine new song called þThere Will Never Be A Better Timeþ. The personnel may change, but the principle behind The Desert Sessions remains the same, as Volumes 9&10 (they come in pairs) of this loose, romantic operation prove. Squeezed in between his many Queens commitments, Homme takes off to the ranch and produces music with his friends spontaneously. He forges new allegiances and test new ideas: Queens standards like þHanging Treeþ, þMillionaireþ, þAvonþ and þMonsters In The Parasolþ first appeared on earlier Desert Sessions. Then the music is sneaked out on an indie label, for only the most devoted fans to track down.
Or at least it used to be. This time, Hommeþs increasing success with the Queens and the presence of PJ Harvey have promoted þDesert Sessions 9&10þ out of the shadows and onto the latterþs label, Island. On one level, itþs an awkward fit: the expectations that would normally accompany one of the Queens or Harveyþs þproperþ records are ill-suited to the eccentricities of The Desert Sessions.
But Homme and Harvey couldnþt make a bad album if they tried (even if the latter got fairly close with 1998þs þIs This Desire?þ). And so þDesert Sessions 9&10þ begins fantastically, with þDead In Love’, a classically menacing Homme song which manages to be at once unhinged and robotic, before it spirals off into a lovely, yawning fade. Harvey plays sax, and the whole endeavour is vaguely reminiscent of þI Think I Lost My Headacheþ from þRated Rþ. þI Wanna Make It Wit Chuþ is even better, sloppy horizontal boogie in evident debt to The Rolling Stonesþ þMiss Youþ, with Homme providing an uncanny impression of Mark Lanegan. Then there are Harveyþs four songs. þThere Will Never Be A Better Timeþ is astonishing, recorded within seconds of it being written, with Harvey soaring and bellowing like Robert Plant while Chris Goss locks into a flamenco guitar loop. þA Girl Like Meþ and þCrawl Homeþ (the latter a duet with Homme) are almost spookily perfect hybrids of Harvey and the Queens: tense, desert swamp rock, however unlikely - to geographers, at least - that may sound. þPowdered Wig Machineþ meanwhile, is as weird as its title, a mathematical grid of creak, twitch and rusty electronics over which Harvey come-hithers magically.
So far, so superb. But like the best parties, þThe Desert Sessions 9&10þ degenerates towards the end. þSubcutaneous Phatþ is cute enough, a mechanistic funk riff overlaid with ghostly choral effects from Homme. þCreosoteþ, though, is a determinedly annoying hillbilly pissaround. And the hammered singalong of þShepherdþs Pieþ (apparently featuring "The Joshua Tree Chefþs Liberation Front Limited") may induce psychosis in even the most empathetic listener, a familiar feeling to those who survived þEndingþ and þPiano Bench Brakeþ on Volumes 7&8.
This, though, is probably as it should be: cranky, self-indulgent, uneven, unpredictable, thoroughly improper. If nothing else, itþs a reminder - perhaps to himself, as well as to us - that Josh Homme is merely mortal, that even bulletproof rock titans have their stupid days. Ironically, itþs the relative consistency of þ9&10þ that may prove the The Desert Sessionsþ downfall, since it provokes a sticky dilemma for Josh Homme. How can he have the freedom to fail on þDesert Sessions 11&12’, when this marvellous, haphazard institution has scored so many hits this time?" (NME. 8/10)

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