Jeffrey Lee Pearce was one of the toughest skins in Rock And Roll, one of those skins that we will never see around again... excesses and torments of a rebellious Rockstar, and that shamanic voice of his like Jim Morrison (he is indeed considered the Morrison of the 80s) which faded in 1996 due to a brain hemorrhage, but he had already been dead for quite some time. With his Band, the Gun Club, he debuted with "The Fire Of Love" in 1981, offering an original mix of Punk and rural Blues, what bursts from your speakers is something highly original, irrepressible, and lustful...
"Sex Beat" bursts in with sharp guitar breaks to stage Pierce's most unhealthy confessions..., "Preaching the Blues" is an old Blues completely overturned by the band's iconoclastic fury, it becomes something unheard of, and unheard are Pierce's possessed screams (an octave higher than Morrison), "For the Love of Ivy" moves in Hardcore jerks barely tempered by Pierce's theatrical voice that exposes his psychic disturbances in the midst of the metropolitan chaos that has always undermined the individual, listen to believe the disjointed final explosion amid nightmare screams; and when "She's Like Heroin To Me" kicks in, we are faced with a new credible prophet of all Postpunk, impossible to stay still, a rape conducted at extreme speeds, what nonetheless stands out is the unrestrained epidermal nature of these tracks, not completely Punk, steeped in strong Southern, Country reminiscences, Swamp rhythms and all the arsenal of frontier America.
Other great tracks are "Fire Spirit", "Black Train", "Ghost On the Highway"... all conducted at supersonic and luciferian speeds. After this record, the Gun Club diverted these uncontrollable impulses towards more macabre and morbid territories through swamp cadences and dances from presences even more occult than the debut, but this is another story that will be further explored another time. What remains, however, from the debut is one of the darkest frescoes of paganism, sex, and death that Rock has ever produced.
Forget the boring and living-room sound of people like Eric Clapton or Steve Ray Vaughan, because here we are talking about the most overwhelming American blues.
An album that catapults us into rural America, made of ghosts, cowboys, whiskey, and women but with a mind projected into the sounds and cultural ferment of the post-punk era.
The guitar plays the main role in supporting the notes Jeffrey plays and the singing is very sweet before becoming violent with direct but also poetic lyrics.
This album which surely isn’t very well-known but those few who know it, I’m sure will believe me when I say this is a masterpiece plain and simple.
If the word "Blues" means "suffering" and if "Punk" translates to "filth," then this is the album that not only invents Punk-Blues but also represents its pinnacle.
The recording and production of this album is, for the type of music the GC proposes, simply PERFECT! It truly feels like being there with them in their rehearsal room.