As you may recall, stepping out on a Sunday to see Jack Oblivian backed up by Memphis band The Sheiks proved to be my favourite night out of 2014, so when I caught a glimpse of this live LP from the same personnel, naturally I snapped it up. Thanks for the memories, Red Lounge and Secret Identity records.

Whilst the set within, recorded at their hometown’s Burgundy Ballroom, is unlikely to really turn the heads of anyone not already fond of this kinda spluttering, sweaty, easy-going deep south r’n’r, but what can I say? When the moon is up and the chips are down (or whatever), it hits me just right.

In part, this good feeling is minted by Jack’s newly minted persona, his gravel-crunching voice, shambling ‘aged’ demeanour and hat wearing tendencies all suggestive of some down at heel, garage punk Tom Waits – minus of course all the mountains of bullshit that surround that particular individual. This worries me somewhat, particularly on sticky moments like the slightly overwrought cover of Ronnie Love’s ‘Chills & Fever’, but I dunno – somehow he’s got enough charm to make it work.

Though the addition of some big ol’ vintage organ sound to the mix adds a certain ‘retro soul revue’ feel to proceedings, Jack’s cracked, uncouth demeanour and The Sheiks preference for grizzly Mudhoney-ish fuzz ensures that proceedings maintain an authentically raw, desperate flavour that seems to me far preferable to the more mannered moves of Jack’s fellow Oblivian Greg Cartwright with his Reigning Sound project. Without needing to say a word on the subject, Jack O’s very presence ties him to the dingier, more damaged side of his city’s rock n’ roll legacy.

In between slabs of goosy, half cut r’n’b (‘Old Folks Boogie’ is a particular ripper), Jack’s best self-penned songs here stand out as quiet masterpieces of kicked-out-the-door-at-closing-time American rock n’roll – fleeting gestures of futile majesty that, for a few bars here and there, hit a straight up bullseye on that particular, ineffible brand of accidental, fucked up grandeur that grabs my heart like little else.

A few ringing chords and a melodic grab at the sky, ‘Flash Cube’, ending side one, is little short of breathtaking. ‘Black Boots’ is a Brill Building-worthy stomper pulled through a hedge of Chilton/Falco grit. ‘Little War Child’ (a clear highlight from last year’s Oblivians comeback album) manages to mug Springsteen in a dark alley and steal that shit back for the people, whilst Jack’s apparent favoured theme tune ‘Honey, I’m Too Old For You’ stands out above all, bedraggled and poignant as you like.

One imagines Jack Oblivian would prefer to shrug off such achievements, feign embarrassment at such over-heated praise, but then, of course he would – that’s the culture, that’s what his elders and betters did, that’s the way to be. Where’s the fun in writing a good number if you’re just gonna spent the next six months just pointing at it, hoping someone notices? Pour another shot, fix that wonky G string, wave it goodbye and plough straight on into the next one.

After all, what is rock n’ roll supposed to be in essence, if not raw, heart-felt, cathartic and fun? The music herein is all those things, without any shills trying to sell it to you as such, and without its creators even needing to acknowledge it. The great thing about this Memphis/deep South rock n’ roll stuff is the feeling that, at it's best, there’s no put on whatsoever - it’s just what these guys do. And that’s nowhere so true as here, so if you can find it, dig in.

Buy from Red Lounge Records.

Labels: best of 2015, Jack Oblivian, The Sheiks