The history of popular music and of artistic movements generally is very much a story of zeitgeists to which one can usually attribute a few very important figures and ideas.  In the mid-fifties, Johnny Cash, Chuck Berry and Elvis spearheaded the burgeoning rock and roll/rockabilly movement; this (along with whatever R&B music made its way across the Atlantic) in turn influenced the British invasion, as the Beatles, the

Life & Deah, The Stevenson Ranch Davidians

For an album review, this is a rather detailed contextual refresher.  But such context is necessary to understand the Stevenson Ranch Davidians’ latest LP release, Life & Death, because this is definitely a throwback album.  It’s not altogether surprising or inappropriate, given that our current social and political unrest does seem to parallel that of the late 1960s.  The Davidians undoubtedly know exactly what they’re doing—it’d be impossible not to, given how obvious it is where their sound comes from—and they do a pretty damn good facsimile.  Unfortunately, facsimile, imitation, and a collective cliché is all that the eight songs on Life & Death amount to. 

Let me first point out that this album sounds great.  The production is perfect for the songs.  Each instrument is given its due reverb, lending a lush atmospheric quality to the overall sound that is certainly greater than the components that comprise it.  At no point on any song does any instrument “step on the toes" of any other instrument; this is both a strength and a weakness: the overall sound coheres effortlessly, but it is very rare that any of the players steps up and grabs the listener’s attention.  Again, this bare simplicity is no doubt intentional, but the Davidians take the notion of simplicity so far as to eschew creativity. 

This instrumental ambivalence leaves a void to be filled, but neither the singing nor the lyrics hold enough charismatic or intellectual pull to fill it.  On “Feelin’ Good,” one of the most instantly catchy songs on the album, the second and third verse go as follows: “I don’t feel up to this/I don’t feel up to that/I don’t feel like doin’ anything/That makes me feel bad//I know, oh baby I know/There’s one thing I know, I know for sure/Feel like feelin’ good.//I take a little bit of this/A little bit of that/A little bit of anything/Anything you have/I know, oh baby I know….”  The problem is that this isn’t rock and roll in the up-tempo sense of the word—there’s no beat powerful enough to render the lyrics irrelevant.  The music, though simple it may be, does hold some potential to really reinforce the lyrics if only there were anything to reinforce.  Throughout the album, some songs lament the cognizance that one can never truly be free (given contemporary societal standards) or see the truth (given the limits of human perception) while others comment on the consciousness-obliterating (or enhancing?) pursuits that result from such knowledge.  “Feelin’ Good” is probably the most extreme example of a song that takes a well put-together if pedestrian backing track and uses it as a palette over which to say next to nothing. 

Though I’ve been harsh, Life & Death is not altogether charmless.  The Stevenson Ranch Davidians know very well how to produce a sound that’s easy on the ears.  But once you get past the initial revelation and first acquaintance, there’s little reason to replay or revisit; subsequent listens yield little more than do the first, except the realization that you’ve probably heard this all somewhere before, attempted with a little more audacity and directed intent.

By Evan Butts