Cedarsmoke: Everything Is The Worst | 4ZZZ Brisbane 102.1FM

- If you were to put together Dylan and The Boss in a songwriting, performance partnership, that’d be a heartland rock appreciater’s holy grail, right? Be careful, you might get what you wish for and your mileage may vary. Brisbane band Cedarsmoke have continued their prolific run of EP releases and on their latest, Everything Is The Worst, although I would never quite have described them that way before, it’s pretty easy to right now. The time I’ve spent with it, over the last week, has been truly depressing and I think that you know, reading that title, the band are partly to blame. Would I take it back to the store for refund? Y’know, I don’t think so.

I think the Springsteen / Dylan meld is most obvious on opener, Pure Heroin. I’ve previously compared frontman Jon Cloumassis to the scratchiest voice in ‘90’s indie-rock, Jay Mascis, but the accompaniment here is much less like Dinosaur Jr. and much more the roaring positivity of the E-Street Band. Seriously, that organ-line in the chorus is sensational! It’s almost a shame because it threatens to put Cloumassis’ lyrics in the backseat and they’re also really rather good.

In the spirit of his mournful odes, Pure Heroin is a tribute to universally hopeless love. The spirit of romance is here, a hideous specter that, sooner or later, inevitably murders those it touches. Be it Jane Austen, Romeo & Juliet or, running through the heart of the song, the tragic Nancy Spungen. Drug dealer to the Sex Pistols, lover of Sid Vicious and murder victim: “in the end she was found dead / From a 5-inch blade in the Chelsea Hotel, 1978.” Cloumassis bonding of love, opiates and death is, as usual, impassioned and erudite. Gut-punch historical references abound: “...maybe there’s a reason Saint Valentine / Is synonymous with the massacre of 1929.” On occasion his passion for language and the past come close to overwhelming him, as the words spill across the borders of stanzas and bars. There are just a couple of moments where the editor’s cruel scalpel might have caused present pain for later gain. Ha, who am I to judge?

The album’s most classic rock moment is followed by a return to its most indie one. Keep Passing The Open Windows, to my ears, channels the Pixies -both in its lazy, harmonic gestures and its medicated and mentally troubled, but not overly troubled lyrics.

The Grim Reaper’s Song is quite a lot like a more exhausted version of the well known ‘Stones’ classic, Sympathy For The Devil, where his satanic majesty is traded out for that titular horseman and again, you don’t have to guess his name, even as he mocks you: “Call me anything you wanna.” He’s going to get you and billions more, just you wait.

Local Anaesthetic is, outside of Pure Heroin, probably the most explicit exploration of chemical culture that weaves its way around the heart of Everything Is The Worst; maybe its most personal too. Exploring the gaping downsides of relying on stimulants to get you up and depressants to put you down again.

For all that Cedarsmoke feel like a band exhausted by love, life and a laundry list of medications, they summon up the energy for an epic closer, Feel Bad Hit Of The Summer. It has a lot in common, maybe even a prosecutable amount in common with another classic, Knockin’ On Heaven’s Door, taking us back to Dylan again. A tale of life slowly dragging you down into the depths. It may be the most depressing number on the record: “It’s better to jump off than it is to fall.” You’ll either have a razor at your wrist or your lighter up in the air.

Given recent evidence, Everything Is The Worst, may be a very accurate description of current events. Given that I’m not I should be listening to Cedarsmoke; I’m just not sure it’s good for me. Yet I find my finger heading for the play button again. If, in love, in choices, in life you find yourself doing the wrong thing and if you find yourself listening, late at night to old Hold Steady, American Football and Springsteen, you may well want to add Cedarsmoke to your list of choices.

- Chris Cobcroft.