Soul Coughing
Irresistible Bliss

THE REVIEW

Soul Coughing: a metaphorical expression to describe a vomiting fit, nothing more than a parenthesis in the poetry of Mike Doughty to give a name to the now-defunct ensemble he was part of.

Without any particular reference to this, what distinguished the band's musical retching was a style without precedent and difficult to classify, where the proposal presented itself as a heterogeneous block of composite music: experimentalism is a joint that unites funk, rock, pop, jazz, hip-hop according to entirely unregulated constructs. The style could be summarized in the elements of black music that are transformed into a white sound perspective, according to a completely unconventional recipe. The compositional flavor, on the other hand, might be described as coarsely melodic avant-garde, but these expressions are, in any case, limited for their compositions that seem like oversized picture frames.

With his awkward way of playing the guitar and phrasing, Mike Doughty primarily presents himself as a non-singer. His poetic monologues add elements to the fundamental structure of the immense rhythmic orgy the band creates, never transforming into either pure rapping or pure spoken. But the more substantial sound carpet is laid by a chunky, clumsy double bass that seems kilometers tall and rushes, bouncing in its muted counterpoints. The percussion masterfully upholds the shack, and samples/keyboards sometimes decorate the frescoes, sometimes merge with the rhythm. Theirs is an extreme refinement suited to a completely inelegant way of playing. The patterns consist of iterations that vary in overlap, causing the classic listening approach to disappear in favor of complete immersion in this vast rotational motion. A music of sounds unstably hanging by a trembling thread gives the impression of continuous dismantling.

Irresistible Bliss is their second effort, and compared to the '94 debut (the masterpiece Ruby Vroom), it shows a band trying to experiment in reverse: a slightly straightened sound, normalized according to a more pop standard. Nothing excessively different from what has already been seen, and perhaps the surprise effect that is missing is what weighs on the album's negative side. Slightly more varied and eclectic in the offering, but less frantic and elastic.

Muffled sounds, scatting, electronic parentheses (to be understood), samples, musical sobs, groove-oriented philosophy; none of the elements that characterize them is missing, it is simply a work spit out in a more cautious way, reflecting the lack of a surprise assault. Less jazz and less linear (in its reference system) than the debut, it remains something immensely valuable in their scant discography. It would ultimately be unfair not to mention the opening track Super Bon Bon, probably the masterpiece of the batch that perfectly renders the shape of the band.

I recommend dusting off this album, but not before that work of art that is Ruby Vroom, the episode that best painted the fresco of this bizarre and extravagant entity coughfrom 90s New York.

Deep slacker jazz.