The Cubical - Come Sing These Crippled Tunes
Listening to The Cubical conjures up vivid scenes of debauchery and devastation. Their sound is dirty, gritty, rock ‘n roll blues, that one can see being played in a sticky, filthy old pub with a cramped, sweaty stage tucked away in a corner. The crowd consists of large, bearded, angry men, each with their own sorrows to drown and each full to the brim with an undirected anger that could unleash at any time. Like the crowd, the music is dangerous but masquerading as playful and simple bar room blues, when actually there is so much more underneath.
I could tell you that the band hail from Liverpool, but this actually ruins the illusion that their music builds around you. It’s more fittingly placed in a bar in some forgotten part of America, like a soundtrack to a Quentin Tarantino film where the main character has stumbled into a saloon that strikes fear into his/her soul the moment they set foot in the door.
Leading this procession of sandpaper rock is singer and guitarist Dan Wilson, whose vocals sound like a cross between Tindersticks’ Stuart Staples and modern day Tom Waits. There is a question mark over whether Wilson has lived a life which has earned him such gravelly vocals, like Tom Waits has, or whether it’s forced and therefore soon to do him some damage, but for the sake of this record it sounds masterful.
‘In the Night’ writhes around your ears, with Wilson growling over it like the devil prophesising the dark truths to a terrified audience. The wiry twanged guitars emphasising that ‘deep south’ sound, almost reluctantly string the song along.
The fact that this is produced by Dave Sardy (Johnny Cash, Rolling Stones, Oasis) should be enough alone to encourage you to go and listen to this band, but if it’s not then your main reason should be that it manages to crawl into your deepest soul while you listen to it. Wilson’s ‘devil’ has growled into my ears for days now and I am sold. Pour me a whiskey and prop me against the bar.