The San Antonio-based Sunjammer’s latest album is a guitar-first, groove-heavy good time, with spiky rhythms one moment, Neil Young & Crazy Horse-like vibes the next, and Southern rock-flavored jams after that. Small surprise that the album was recorded live (“through buzzing transistors and unspooling magnetic tape,” says the press release). It’s a throwback, in other words—and that’s not a knock. It conjures the free-spirited sounds of the 1970s, when songs flowed like honey from the car speakers.
The themes tackled are those most folks will identify with. The punky and punchy “Quit” opens the nine-track set with a feeling most every worker has felt at one time or another: “I’d like to quit/but I don’t know how.” It morphs into an old-school jam, lessening the punk quotient the longer it goes. “Lunch Break” embraces the laconic guitar tone of Zuma, while expanding upon the work-based theme. At first listen, it reminded me of the days when I received an hour paid lunch—an actual break from the daily grind. At a certain point, however, the midday mealtime “evolved” into an unpaid 30 minute that felt as pressured as the work itself.
“New Bird” is a gentle flight through the dawn, while the contemplative “Not Yet” incorporates a ‘50s feel. “Soul 69” delves into dreams and the costs that come with them—especially when they fail to materialize. “Real One,” about lookin’ for a love, chugs along like a slow-rolling locomotive. The low-key “Yonder,” for its part, sees hope just beyond the horizon. “Beatdown” is a short lament accented by harmonies, a perfect set-up for the closing “Step Out of Line,” which seemingly channels both Crazy Horse and Skynyrd. The cool sound is matched by lyrics that explore the toll that life takes on us: “I’ve grown calloused like a leather glove.”
Perhaps those echoes of long-ago are why I enjoy the album as much as I do. It takes me back to the days when I felt like a spoke in a great big wheel, like a tiny blade of grass in a great big field, yet still found ways to fly free. That those moments of freedom were soundtracked by soaring guitars and heady beats shouldn’t be a surprise. Anyone of a certain vintage will find much here to like, in other words. Those younger, especially those raised on rock, should, too.
The Old Grey Cat 