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Rating: Lucky Jim is a bastard child.
The bastard child of the band, that is, the album least discussed and publicized by the press. Despite being the last composition of Jeffrey Lee Pierce, it remains a hidden gem buried by much more well-known tracks belonging to the discography of the Gun Club.
The psychedelic bluesman, accompanied by the ex Mori and Sanderson, showcases the mature and composed sound of the work, supported by the melancholic visions of the context.
You escape into the woods, abandoning your car, to indulge in the wildest lust in Idiot Waltz, with the constant gloominess of the tones.
The presumptuous and irresistible rock of Ride mid-album and the resignation born from dust in Desire give a good sense of the emotional power of what you are listening to.
The riffs, that voice on the edge of madness and depression: everything in Lucky Jim evokes the end credits at the end of a movie.
The trio, in fact, shattered for quite some time, will embrace the idea of cutting ties and looking to the future. That future which, two years later, would bring the bitter end with the passing of Pierce, the mutant child of punk restlessness and the depth of blues.
The frontman with turbulent vicissitudes, who leaves a mark even on subsequent generations of musicians. An indie symbol, the unfortunate passionate bard. Lucky nothing at all.
Not their peak, nor their swan song, but it deserves a listen as a record of great class.
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