Gary Moore
Scars

Scars is a brief group experiment attempted by Gary Moore in 2002, after coming into contact with and becoming enthusiastic about the powerful and precise groove crafted by Darrin Mooney, drummer for the Scottish band Primal Scream. For the occasion, Darrin brought along his friend, bassist Cass Lewis from Skunk Anansie, and so a new hard rock blues trio was all set and ready to go.

This time, no covers—this is a “band” mindset: roughly half the tracks are group compositions. The rest comes from Moore’s pen alone, evidently material already prepared at the time of the trio's formation.

Why the name “Scars”? Perhaps in reference to those Gary had long carried on his right cheek, a lasting mark left by a glass that exploded in his face during a pub brawl in his native Belfast, back in the late seventies.

The sound of this record isn’t Moore’s classic one: it’s more acidic, more “modern.” Fans of metal and new millennium hard rock will probably be able to place it better than I can, perhaps. What I have to say is that I like it much less than his more “classic” rock blues stuff… The vocal lines are often bare and primitive, the mood is more post-metal (maybe?) than hard rock.

Even the slow-tempo tracks are altered compared to his usual standard: there’s no “air” around, the sounds are dry and harsh, the “cold” and transistor-like distortions convey a slightly oppressive sense of confinement.

However, “Ball and Chain” packs a punch: a tour de force of more than twelve minutes on a grueling, psychedelic groove. Moore shows off his Hendrixian learning here—things like singing in unison with the guitar, super-fast trills, open-string noise, sudden jumps to bend a high string… In short, a good slice of the vast repertoire of the Seattle genius and pioneer.

Yes, it’s Moore’s most Hendrixian album, though the sounds are more up-to-date and arid, short reverbs, not an ounce of Hammond organ to ring-fence and round out the basic roughness. Boh! I trust my first impressions, which were of moderate disappointment.

But I feel that this time my judgements, my reactions are highly personal. For many, the rather psychedelic and drastic sound of this album could surely be a pleasant surprise.

There’s still the last track on the list, the interminable slow blues “Who Knows (What Tomorrow May Bring)?,” an authentic and abundant sample of what can be coaxed from an old Fender Stratocaster set with the volume halfway and the neck pickup engaged, then run through a Fender amp as well, which makes me add a whole extra star of merit to the work.