Tortured soul Dax Riggs returns to the CD shelf, this time with solo effort We Sing of Only Blood or Love. Strange thing is, this "solo" record features a full band whereas his most recent group, deadboy & the Elephantmen, consisted of only two members. Riggs is a living paradox, and that, friends, is just the tip of the iceberg.
Over time, he has evolved from his musical inception as the singer of grind/death/sludge metal innovators Acid Bath to mellower (but somehow scarier) offshoot group Agents of Oblivion to apocalyptic folk/indie crooner with both deadboy and the present disc. Through it all, he's held on to his darkly poetic lyricism, his love for distorted electric guitars and his inimitable voice.
Where deadboy & the Elephantmen's We Are Night Sky received some criticism for Riggs' alleged withholding of vocal potential, We Sing of Only Blood or Love far exceeds expectation. Though he sounds little like the man, Riggs' unique voice has the range, versatility and grandiose qualities of David Bowie's, with a little added gravel for good measure.
The music itself could pass for melancholy indie (it could often be termed hard rock as well), but the lyrics are what place the lion's share of the album in the "damn that's dark" file. Song topics vary from death to suicide, providing a consistent theme, if nothing else. Could Riggs be the Bowie of the damned? We think so.
The introductory (and ridiculously titled) "Demon Tied to a Chair in My Brain" is half-dirge, half-feedback freakout. Simply stated, it rocks. "Didn't Know Yet What I'd Know When I Was Bleedin'" follows quickly behind the intro track, featuring a meandering blues vibe, new guitarist Matt Sweeney (Zwan, Johnny Cash!) channeling The Black Keys. These are definitely two highlights of the album, with the only complaint being their brevity. Each track is about two minutes long, leaving the listener wanting more. Fortunately for all, a hearty 13 tracks remain.
The remainder of the disc illustrates Riggs' chameleon-like songwriting, seamlessly rolling from the stripped down, vocals-over-acoustic "Ouroboros" to the almost-upbeat "Forgot I Was Alive" to the blues-bender "Dog-Headed Whore."
"The Wall of Death" is one of the only questionable tracks offered here. Where the other songs lean toward indie, this Richard Thompson cover gets a little too close to pop-punk for comfort. Finishing the album, "Dethbryte" sounds like a "lounge" ballad, if there is such a thing. This one's the wild card of the album, with the path toward love or hate likely decided by intuitive personal preference alone.
Any metal fan familiar with Acid Bath or Agents of Oblivion should be curious to hear what Riggs has been up to, and We Sing of Only Blood or Love contains enough dirty rock to hold a headbanger's interest. However, we're betting that if you give this strange, dark indie trip a chance, you'll come back unable to get "Demon Tied" out of your metal head.