Two Gallants Albums (3)
What The Critics Say
It would not be strange that the three albums Two Gallants have released so far were a sole (but splendid) recording subsequently split into three different issues. This third and self-titled work surprised again exactly by offering the same, but with the similar high quality. Apparently, the duo from San Francisco did not want to be swept away by new musical waves, lest they forget to make such good music. Once immersed in the "spot the difference" game, you feel that the melancholic lyrics listeners became accustomed to, worthy of authentic poets (e.g., "The Deader"), come off a little less destructive on this disc (not any less profound, but less despairing), with stories that forgo tales of alcoholism, suicide, and murder -- that is to say, the overwhelming burden of a devastating existence -- to focus on someone else instead of on oneself: an opponent, or another being much more complicated to bear. "The Hand That Held Me Down" and "Miss Meri" are pieces with an evidently female target. Musically, the songs' structure barely changes except for a more instrumental clarity patent in "Reflections of the Marionette" and in the ballads "Trembling of the Rose," "Ribbons 'Round My Tongue," and "Fly Low Carrion Crow," songs where the drums and cymbals escort the voice as if over a recently paved road instead of a cobblestone path. Special mention deserves the song "Despite What You've Been Told," which undoubtedly sticks out over the rest of the album and, easily, over the whole Two Gallants' repertoire. This album's first single transmits, with a more standard structure (verse-chorus-verse) and a faster tempo than usual, an infectious energy without being such a heavy song. The now perfect instrumental combination and clearness, accompany the epic chords and a voice which march together from beginning to end. So continue this way, gentlemen. ~ Alfonso Goiriz, All Music Guide
What The Critics Say
It seemed quite hard to believe that Two Gallants could fulfill the expectation created by the quality of their first LP The Throes, but even the angels on the cover of this second album, What the Toll Tells, appear to be amazed that they have done so. And it is understandable. First, the production from new label Saddle Creek improves the sound of its predecessor, and the San Francisco-formed duo doesn't spare us a moment to miss it, opening with the rocky "Las Cruces Jail," probably the most powerful song of their short discography so far. After the second cut, the slow and beautiful "Steady Rollin'," this pair of friends manages to persuade you that they are capable of stunning you again with the similar poetic, sad stories that thrilled you on the previous album. To that end, they don't mind offering nine-minute pieces which rummage inside the most hidden and bitter emotions of human beings, building irregular structures where the rhythm and musical strength vary as a function of the story they tell, contrary to what is usual. It is worth pointing out, however, that in some moments the similarity of chords might cause a sense of reiteration and even a slight saturation, since the musical pulse could occasionally overwhelm the small quantity of instruments (guitar/harmonica/drums). Nevertheless, this just happens if we listen to it as background music without paying attention to what it's intended to convey and, on the other hand, it indicates that what Two Gallants do is neither folk nor rock, but a high quality folk-rock. So as you go through the album, you run into masterpieces like "Threnody," a harsh ballad about love, loss, and blame, with a crushing intensity that ends up tearing you apart, "Waves of Grain," a political complaint-turned-poem, and above all, "Age of Assassins," a brilliant example of this band's music, where in eight minutes vitalizing tempo highs and lows are combined with breathtaking metaphorical writing about the burden of life. This, together with Adam Stephens' dramatic voice and melancholic harmonica, results in an ideal soundtrack for the personal, decadent stories everyone has. Because it appears these beatnik-like guys have found the secret that only the greats know: to take the form as the substance, helping to evoke what it is inside of us instead of telling us how we are. ~ Alfonso Goiriz, All Music Guide
What The Critics Say
Ignore the bloodied bird on the front cover; it's the evocative photo on the inner sleeve that best represents The Throes. There Two Gallants sit in a trashed trolley car, staring morosely at nothing, a pair of modern-day hobos sidetracked on their fruitless journey through a contemporary depression-era America. But forget The Grapes of Wrath; think instead of postwar film noir and the corresponding gritty fiction that laid bare the barrenness at the core of the nation's soul. And like them, Adam Stephens' themes explore not larger societal concerns, but the internal dystopias of his sad, damaged characters stumbling through a cold, uncaring world. "The Throes" itself is a brutal expose of domestic violence, shocking in its vicious, violent details, "Train That Stole My Man" a tragic tale of desertion and suicide, while "My Madonna" charts the downward spiral of alcoholism. Other numbers, though, are a bit less clear-cut. "You Losin' Out," a cover song, may close with the locking out of a cheating woman...or with her murder, while "Crow Jane" features yet another faithless broad who cons a con, who promptly uses her as his excuse for his own criminal ways. "Nothing to You," a morality tale warning of the dangers of placing people on pedestals, contains comic elements, but also a dark stalker edge and a hint of a watery end. Stephens' sharp-as-knives lyrics, tinged with poetic flourishes, weave unforgettable stories, even if much of the action is internal, as the characters struggle with painful pasts, pitiless presents, and foreclosed futures. Relationships should provide support, but instead exert only more pain, making The Throes a dark album relieved only by the beauty of the music. The set swirls around folk and the blues, from the hard rock-tinged "Two Days Short Tomorrow" through the Pogues-like crash and clatter of "Fail Hard to Regain" and on to the swampy slide guitar blues of "Train." The backings are all as evocative as the lyrics themselves. ~ Jo-Ann Greene, All Music Guide
