King's X
Gretchen Goes To Nebraska

In my (musical) perfect world, the first four or five albums by King's X would be vying for the title of career-best in stimulating TV debates, steadily placed in the rankings of the best rock albums of all time, with the web and specialized magazines full of their reviews and flattering analyses. But that's not the case; rivers of words are directed toward entirely different musical entities, several of which, I feel, are not even worthy of minimal consideration. What else can I say as an introduction... I perceive King's X as a wonderful entity, with its ups and downs but undoubtedly among the most satisfying experiences for a passionate music listener.

This is the second act in the (for now) twenty-five-year career of the trio. The year is 1989, grunge and alternative metal are still at an underground level, but here it is already, the best guitar sound ever in these sectors (but also overall, why not): it belongs to Mr. Ty Tabor, a giant of this instrument, as many in the industry well know. He excels primarily in sound, resolute and resonant, then in precise and dynamic rhythmic attitude, and not least in the art of arpeggio, deep and lyrical. His solo phrasing is admittedly less stunning than the other talents just listed, while still maintaining a notable level.

It's not that Ty has to keep the ship afloat by himself... the two companions he teams up with are also extraordinary, starting, for a change, with the sound they are able to derive from their instruments: the interaction between Doug Pinnick's super low timbre and Jerry Gaskill's creative use of drums and cymbals (especially the bass drum) is something that can be adequately described only to those deeply versed in musical techniques, but I think it can be felt by anyone with an ear attuned to groove and rhythmic effectiveness in rock. The cherry on top comes from the full-of-soul voice of the mulatto Pinnick, poised to soak the metallic/beatlesque/punky/progressive (!) textures set up by the trio in soul, making the King's X sound unique, multifaceted, and multidimensional.

Considered by a good portion of the band's fans as their best release, "Gretchen..." marked a leap in quality for the Houston trio, after an outstanding debut that only managed to break the ice. Here the frequency of good numbers and brilliant ideas is undoubtedly higher. The most prominent pieces are, to begin with, the resounding "Over My Head," an ode to music played on practically a single tonic chord, plus another, truly disorienting and "toxic," over which the guitar yields at the end of each riff.

Then "Summerland," built on an invaluable, pressing arpeggio that set a standard (or should, for those who do not yet know it and love the guitar) and barked by Pinnick with all the soul he is capable of (a lot) before the finale. In total contrast comes the gem "The Difference," pure Ty Tabor that goes on to sound like a more gifted and convinced George Harrison: the same mystical strumming of the acoustic guitar (what a magnificent sound!), Beatlesque voice possessed by some religion, sixth and ninth harmonies made in Abbey Road.

An impossible leap to the next "I'll Never Be The Same," Paradisiacal riff, bass drum in the stomach, Pinnick howling like a madman, and the other two tormenting him with harmonies and choruses, then you are laid flat by a finale in... rhythmic solo! Ty releases a series of dyads and intertwined riffs, thrilling and heart-wrenching, especially in their descending chromatic sections.

An intro of liturgical organ played by producer Sam Taylor preludes to further trials by fire for the mulatto Pinnick on "Mission" and the following "Fall On Me," two episodes linked together by a common religious search in the lyrics and powerful rhythmic interactions among the three instruments. When Tabor then unleashes the (brief) solos, he has bass and drums accompany him without overdubbing rhythm guitar, seeking even greater effectiveness in his phrasing.

The masterpiece of the album (to my current taste... because it is quite a battle here) is titled "Pleiades"... even my favorite constellation! The guitarist sings over one of his masterful arpeggios that he occasionally loves to interrupt with upheavals of dyads. His voice, definable a'la John Lennon (metalhead), recites the lyrics and then steps aside for a long, fabulous final jam session, deep and magical, in which there isn't a single solo note from one instrument, but rather a frenzied rhythmic interaction of all three, over which drummer Gaskill towers.

Last quick mention for "Send A Message" in which Pinnick's sublime voice evokes sobs of beneficial discomfort, meanwhile asking the listener to come alive, with splendid animosity. Get in touch with King's X; it is intelligent, heartfelt, melodic, and at the same time driving music, undoubtedly noisy but with art.