Thin White Rope
Squatter's Rights

I have always believed that the analysis of an album should start from its cover; often the images it contains greatly help us understand the situation of a group at that precise moment in their recording career. And I can say with absolute certainty that this mini LP of Thin White Rope already tells us everything from the strange and crooked design that characterizes the cover.

A man armed with a broom trying to tidy up, to keep together what’s left of his home, while a heavy crane arm continues its demolition work; this is how I see Guy Kiser and Roger Kunkel's group at the beginning of 1991. A band worn down by continuous and exhausting promotional tours; endless concerts around the world that have not brought the long-awaited economic return. The two historical leaders are trying in every way to resist, to carry forward the enormous musical project that has thus far produced an epic series of albums.

It is an album of only six songs; all covers of artists except for one track signed by Guy himself with, believe it or not, Avion Travel. It starts with the instrumental "Caravan" by Duke Ellington and immediately enters that desert sound of which Thin White Rope were among the greatest exponents. Then it moves to "Film Theme" by the already mentioned Avion Travel, in my opinion the weakest piece of the collection: Kuy's voice is too dull, with guitars that do not scratch in any way. But then the classic "Roadrunner" by Bo Diddley sets things straight: the vitriolic voice we know well guides the acerbic sonic assault of all the instruments, with a final solo of the two guitars that stuns with its vigor. A track nothing short of overwhelming: a Rock-Blues-Psychedelic Thin White Rope style.

The B-side of my vinyl, kept like an authentic relic, opens with "May This Be Love" by a certain Jimi Hendrix and finally continues with two tracks by the Byrds: "Everybody's Been Burned" and "I Knew I'd Want You." In all three admirable songs, there is a resigned, not to say melancholic, air, as if the band had a clear awareness of an imminent end. And to give consistency to my argument, another image on the back of the cover helps me: this time it is a photo of the band where you see Guy with his eyes closed, as if he were already somewhere else, far from his companions.

A few months later, the last full-length album "The Ruby Sea" will be released, the least successful work of their career; yet another tour documented by the monumental double live "The One That Got Away." Then comes the inevitable end of the race, without any future reconsideration: and it’s a shame.

Ad Maiora.