Jason Boesel, a heavyweight in the indie world, has drummed for Rilo Kiley and more recently for Conor Oberst’s Mystic Valley Band. In his own music, Boesel takes a step away from the dominate indie sound of the last five years. His debut album, Hustler’s Son, contains no synth, no irony, no glam-punk influence. However, what it does contain sets it apart: a sense of loneliness, strength, and sincerity that doesn’t rely on image to convey its message. Hustler’s Son is a soundtrack of the South stripped down to raw simplicity, to feeling.
Each song conveys a different state, both emotionally and physically. Opener “Black Waves” is a slow, electric folk tune that channels Leonard Cohen in its vocal and lyrical styling. “Hand of God” becomes more country, with a distinct twang, taking the listener into West Virginia’s coal country. The chorus has pop overtones, and while walking the line between pop and country sounds like a terrible trip, Boesel pulls it off without becoming shticky (it’s no “Achy Breaky Heart”). On the dreamy “French Kissing,” the Cohen influence slaps you in the face, but Boesel’s throaty-yet-smooth singing will make any soft heart forgive him. It helps that Cohen’s characteristic female back-up singers crowing along to every chorus are thankfully missing.
Some may view Hustler’s Son’s lyrics as weak. Boesel doesn’t use his medium for straight up storytelling (even if we all would love for him to tackle something like “A Boy Named Sue”). Instead he forms his verses like Burroughs sometimes formed his paragraphs: typing up random sentences, cutting them all up, and then reorganizing them at will. The essence is not in the overall flow from word to word, but in each singular word itself, in the scene each word creates, backed by the tone of Boesel’s voice and the instrumentation. You don’t technically need to hear a single lyric of “Burned Out and Busted” to grasp its desolation. “New World Mama” starts with a plucky guitar, and features only Boesel and his instrument. You can imagine him playing this one on stage in a small bar to an uncaring crowd; it has an amazingly intimate quality. This song, like many on Hustler’s Son, carries a note of happiness hidden behind its rueful tone, like a quick, flickering smile that betrays a hint of optimism in the most world-weary of souls.
When someone as experienced as Boesel releases a debut, there are undoubtedly high expectations. He delivers here with just a few stumbles, failing only when he falls back on contrived tricks. There’s some boring ooh-ing on “Miracles,” a song about “sex and drugs” that one can imagine taking place in that great American musical Xanadu: Memphis, TN. The constant repetition of the word “man” in “Was it, man?” gets downright annoying. Luckily, the album’s title track doesn’t suffer from such faults. It takes us from Appalachia to the Rockies, carrying a western tone—a song for a cowboy riding into the sunset, using a cache of witty or beautiful phrases as lyrics.
Those looking to escape the wasteland of insipid and superficial music can find a soothing listen in Hustler’s Son. Fans of Conor Oberst’s work with the Mystic Valley Band will also find a familiar friend in the album. If you like “I Got the Reason #1” on Hustler’s Son, check out “I Got the Reason #2” on C.O. and the Mystic Valley Band’s Outer South. Hustler’s Son is an album that will still be listenable in five or ten years, long after modern fads have passed. It’s an album that machetes through the jungle of mediocre music, and moves onto a path of sincerity and talent.
Track List:
1. Black Waves
2. Hand of God
3. French Kissing
4. Burned Out and Busted
5. New World Mama
6. Miracles
7. Hustler’s Son
8. Getting Healthy (Good Luck)
9. I Got the Reason #1
10. Was it, Man?
11. Winking Eyes
