Artist: Bugg, Jake
Label: Island Records
Release: 2013
Rating: 3/5
Usually, mixes of “old and new” don’t exactly click when it comes to new-generation artists, and there are a few reasons why. The lyrics, i.e. the poetry, often don’t (stylistically) fit the musical backdrop of the era the artist is working in. And the element that’s trying to feel new, fresh, challenging usually loses the battle for authorial originality, so the record sinks to the level of mediocrity of countless similar attempts that end up stuck with the label of a derivative, a clone of the original work. Still, every now and then a new-generation artist comes along who’s a prime example of successfully merging poetry and musical style. Such a successful middle road opens the door to credibly cementing their identity on an otherwise unforgiving music market. The latter practically decimates, on a daily basis, a whole host of similar attempts by various younger artists down to the level of grey mediocrity. All thanks to failing to meet the standard of authorial unoriginality.
Bugg’s second studio effort, though, is an example of those two principles successfully coming together. It’s a pleasant, unpretentious fusion of quasi-Dylanesque songwriting in a modern context with sound quality that fits the times. The step up in quality from the first record to the second is down to producer Rick Rubin (Red Hot Chilli Peppers, Run D.M.C., Lana Del Rey, and many others). The album flows along pleasantly and coherently, snagging a few times only because of the mid-tempo numbers and the ballads.
Quasi-Dylanesque songwriting and a strong rockabilly feel kick off the record on the opener There’s a Beast and We All Feed It. Stylistically it harks back to the early rock n’ roll days: dizzying, raw, uncompromising. Bugg shines in the fast, direct arrangement moments. Kingpin, Slumville Sunrise and the post-punk What Doesn’t Kill You are thus the stronger, cleaner tracks on the record, where the young Brit spits out his lyrics with the same fervor his backing crew brings to the playing.
Sadly, Bugg’s directness, just like the backing crew’s delivery of the material, fades on the slower tracks. Kitchen Table tries right from the start to create some kind of melancholy note that never manages to dominate, come alive and win over the listener. All the Wrong Reasons is a similar case, since it too breaks up the record’s otherwise nicely established conceptual thread. The lyrics of the ballads suffer largely because of the adolescent nature of Bugg’s outlook, which just isn’t up to the music and the intended delivery. Me & You and A Song About Love are different stories. Their teenage undertone fits the arrangement structures nicely and successfully fights its way through the softer sonic backdrop. Me & You is made for a midnight drive down a half-lit highway.
Shangri La is the fruit of a decent collaboration between the young Bugg and producer Rubin, and a welcome creative high point on an otherwise (authorially) impoverished modern scene. Despite the ups and downs across the album, Jake Bugg stays confident, raw and above all honest. »Shangri La« leaves you with good vibes, and let’s just hope his next studio album doesn’t bow to the pressures of commercialization, where the urge to sell more records would lead to Jake Bugg losing his artistic autonomy. For now it’s been kept intact, and with »Shangri La« he gains in substance and concision.
Lineup
Jake Bugg – vocals, guitar, piano, acoustic guitar, slide guitar
Jason Lader – bass guitar
Matt Sweeney – guitar
Pete Thomas – drums
Production
Rick Rubin
Tracklist
1. There’s A Beast And We All Feed It
2. Slumville Sunrise
3. What Doesn’t Kill You
4. Me And You
5. Messed Up Kids
6. A Song About Love
7. All Your Reasons
8. Kingpin
9. Kitchen Table
10. Pine Trees
11. Simple Pleasures
12. Storm Passes Away
