16 Horsepower, Secret South (Razor & Tie)
With an eerie voice that strangely recalls The Call's Michael Been, biblical ghost stories straight from Nick Cave's chapbook and rustic tools-as-instruments borrowed from Tom Waits' shed, you'd think 16 Horsepower would be treading familiar ground. Having been dropped from A&M, the band set up camp at the Hamilton Glory Lodge in Blue River, Colorado, and emerged with poetry in motion. Unlike the majority of dreary swill dripping from the half-baked genres of No Depression and Insurgent Country, 16 Horsepower has developed a style that is truly original, rocks hard with razor sharp edges. They suggest the Gun Club if they'd actually become a great band rather than withered away. Even when they're quiet, they can be terrifying. The bravest hardiest of souls could not make it through the funereal "Burning Bush" without at least once feeling a chill. Enough to put the fear of the devil in ya so much that you'll lock yourself in the basement with a week's supply of grub and a bottle of whiskey. "Splinters" manages to be majestic, yet reserved enough to maintain an air of mystery and dread. Save for the cover of Bob Dylan's romantic ballad, "Nobody Cept You," this a truly intense album, not for the weak of heart.
