Sometimes the man behind
Death Seat is
Wooden Wand, sometimes simply Wand, and in the past, part of
Wooden Wand & the Vanishing Voice, but he's always
James Jackson Toth, and he's always an uncompromising singer/songwriter. That remains true on this outing, which is the first
Wooden Wand album to appear on
Michael Gira's boutique label Young God Records. In the past, the label has been known for freak-folk linchpin
Devendra Banhart's neo-hippie musings, but while the
Wooden Wand style remains an organic, lo-fi, acoustic-based sound,
Toth is nobody's hippie. He's influenced by the poetic side of the outlaw country camp, and more than anything,
Death Seat suggests what the dark country/folk visions of
Townes Van Zandt might have sounded like if the latter were born into the indie folk generation. Not that these moody, imagery-laden tunes have no contemporary reference points -- they could also be envisioned as a product of the evil twin of
Vetiver's
Andy Cabic, or an alternate-universe version of
Bonnie "Prince" Billy, if his highness traded his
Yeats collection for a
Bukowski library. Although
Toth is joined by a number of guests on
Death Seat, including members of
Mercury Rev,
Lambchop,
Silver Jews, and Big Blood, the songs still conjure up a lonely world of dusty, wind-blown narratives from a troubadour doomed to roam the earth with nothing but his own mournful ballads for company. Even when
Toth deals in the kind of themes that would entail warm-and-fuzzy warbling in the hands of another artist, he turns things toward a deliciously dark and twisted path. On "Until Wrong Looks Right," for instance, his approach to the subject of procreation brings the questions "What if we have a daughter who we can't trust?/What if we have a son and we hate his guts?" He even finds a way to turn heavenly symbols into something unwholesome, singing "Send me your benevolent angels/I'll make whores of them one by one" on "Ms. Mowse." In a less skilled writer's hands, this sort of thing might be off-putting, but with
Toth behind the wheel,
Death Seat makes for a weirdly wonderful ride. ~ J. Allen