Jack Cade – The Death Throes of a Jaded Empire
Collision Music – 29 January 2021
Should your tastes run to the bleak, and you enjoy monochrome lithographs, frock coats and the book of revelation, liking the idea of ragged pants prophets roaming desolate wastelands, these magnificent dirges should give be right up your street. With a voice aged in barrels of rot-gut, Jack Cade sings with fire and brimstone chasers, in a rumbling baritone that could give any other man in black a run for their money. It is thus a surprise to discover he is a burly broth of a boy with a pleasing smile, not that you’d necessarily know that from the forbidding glower on the sleeve. This is his third solo record, his sixth if you include his three releases with his band, the Everyday Sinners, a product of lockdown on the south coast of England, and is a relentless and glorious wallow in imperfect contrition.
Oft compared vocally to a more ravaged Tom Waits, I think that slightly unfair, his tones evoking more that fella out of Crash Test Dummies, if after a few bad years, and the songs are often put together with a similar wry lyricism. And although a solo project, there is plenty of mood appropriate backing behind Cade’s gruff vocal and guitar, with country-noir dobro, slide, fiddle and drums, various of the Everyday Sinners dipping in, with the banshee wail of the fiddle coming from one Hana Maria, in a tone reminiscent of Lisa Germano.
There is also interesting context to the name, Jack Cade being the so-called Captain of Kent, who led an unsuccessful revolt against the abuses of power levied by the ruling classes during the 1400s. Whether this is the one and the same man I will leave to conjecture; the timbre of his voice suggests it could be, with the parallels with today arguing a need for his return.
Opener ‘It Ain’t Easy’ sets the tone, a wearied plea for the truth, a sepulchral organ providing an appropriately funereal tone, additional instrumentation seeping in as it unfolds. Story song, ‘The Amber Lights’ then lightens the mood, a song that could be by and for Johnny Cash, were it not a lament to the fading glories of UK long-forgotten seaside towns. With a shift back into old testament mode, The Awakening, already previewed on these pages back in September, the advance taster for the project, is another song of warning against complacency, and again very fitting for these dark and difficult days. A song that demands attention, the fiddle swirls like storm clouds forming.
The current sudden media resurgence of interest in sea shanties is well met by ‘Saviours and Sinners’, by now the gist of lyrical direction becoming clear. Although no mention of whalers or rum, this has the unmistakable swell of the sea, with a stentorian chorus of ravaged souls adding the atmosphere, slide guitar and a simple rhythmic clash propelling the message. You may now be thinking this is or could be, a bit much, a bit depressing. Extraordinarily, the opposite is the effect, a sense of pride and belonging coming to the fore, this underlined in the anthemic ‘Night Terrors’, with its muted power chords and a quiet howling unfurling in the distance.
It’s true a little light is offered by next song, ‘Some Bruises Don’t Fade’, even should the words suggest the opposite, another shoo-in for Johnny Cash, had his roots been in the Medway Delta. It is the closest to a ballad on the disc, just Cade and his guitar. Which is just what is needed to glide into, for me, an album highlight, ‘What Do the People Say’, a rousing, sort of, in your cups singalong, set in the closest to a conventional blues-rock vein, abetted again by keyboard, the backing vocals, possibly all Cade himself, triumphant. Back to the midwest, strum along ‘Setting Fires‘ slowly builds over a shimmer of slide, and acts as a moment for reflection, before the positively upbeat closer, ‘Deep Blue Sea’, a paean to taking that first step forward to a better life, the tune and the guitar positively joyous, if the voice, well, you know that. “I’ll be the deep blue sea beneath your wings” feels something to believe in.
This is an astonishing record. Barely classifiable under Americana, the clear nods toward country leavened by similar appropriations from folk, the blues and rock. The melodies are not a million miles away from recent Nick Cave, as is some of the ambience. I would argue it takes probably a few listens and probably some sole attention too, but it is worth that immersion and effort. Very much a lockdown record, a winter lockdown at that, one for dark nights, short days and a hope in your heart. A red sky at night record.