Assumptions. We all make them. We hear a new-to-us name or title, glimpse an album jacket, book cover or movie placard, and lean on similar variables from the past to predict what’s what with the artist, band, book, movie and/or TV show in question. Sometimes, such as people with predilections against pop music, black-and-white films, R. Crumb cartoons, and “reality” fare, we’re aware—but, as often, we’re not. Over time, however, those conscious and subconscious signals sent and received often stack up into impenetrable walls.
I’m as guilty as anyone. I receive dozens of review requests every week. In the early going, I read every one and listened, at least in part, to the music. Unfortunately, that approach proved unworkable—I have a life beyond the blog, after all. I began scanning the emails and clicking play only on releases that sounded like they might be up my alley; i.e., applying assumptions. Now? I scan subject headers, open a subset therein, and just click play on a few. Connecticut Cowboy by Paul Bergmann, a veteran singer-songwriter with many albums on his CV, caught my eye because of the title; I clicked play thinking that, a la Rhode Island-based Charlie Marie, it was northeastern-based country music.
It’s anything but. Rather, the seven-track outing is a mix of Bowie-esque and ’80s-drenched rock, at least as I remember it, part Dream Syndicate, Psychedelic Furs and Simple Minds, with deep vocals that float up from the abyss, while guitars and keyboards collide in the sky and thud-thick rhythms churn down below. It’s intense and noir-ish, accented by dim light and dark shadows, with only occasional flashes of the sun. Highly recommended.
The Old Grey Cat 