Kingsnake, One Eyed King of the Blind: Knowing the Way Down
Chances are, when you tell the dudes in Philly-based four-piece Kingsnake they sound like Clutch, they’re going to agree. The groove-heavy rockers follow-up their 2010 Book of Promise debut with One Eyed King of the Blind, a nine-track/41-minute outing that underscores the influence in funk-derived starts and stops and the vocals of rhythm guitarist Bill Jenkins. Working in this sphere is also nothing new for the outfit, who in the last decade released two full-lengths, 2003’s Hell or High Water and 2004’s American Rickshaw, and 2005’s Locomotive EP under the moniker Sugar Daddie before switching banners to Kingsnake in 2006. American Rickshaw was produced by Clutch drummer Jean-Paul Gaster, who also is prominently thanked in the liner notes of One Eyed King of the Blind and was in Book of Promise as well, and Kingsnake supported Clutch at the Philly stop on their most recent tour, so the connection is legit on more than one level. And it’s not one Kingsnake make an attempt to shirk throughout these songs, whether it’s the cowbell showing up at the end of “Too Little, too Late,” the “Mr. Shiny Cadillackness”-esque swell of guitar beginning “Fang of the Cobra,” the organ on that song and “Whispering Eye” or the acoustic blues treatment in the first movement of “Know the Way Down.” It becomes a “they know it, you know it, we all know it” kind of situation as the penultimate “Mercy” introduces listeners to a “black-haired whiskey mama” whose proportions are no doubt as thick as bassist Matt Kahn‘s tone, and the idea seems to be that if they don’t try to pull a fast one like they just made all this stuff up right now, it won’t matter and we can all throw back a few beverages, party down and have a good time.
Whether or not a given listener is going to be able to make that leap depends entirely on that listener, but it’s worth mentioning that Jenkins, Kahn, lead guitarist Brian Merritt and drummer Matt Farnan have been together well over a decade and that however much it may sonically owe to the aforementioned Maryland outfit, One Eyed King of the Blind also presents Kingsnake as a band with formidable chemistry and the ability to make difficult rhythm changes sound fluid and natural. That is to say, a lot of bands sound like Clutch, but they don’t all do it this well. Also in Kingsnake‘s corner is their complete lack of pretense and straightforward songwriting mentality. Tracks vary in the impressions they leave, but songs like “Fang of the Cobra,” the subsequent “Mountain Girl” and the shorter “Mala Suerte” prove memorable even in spite of their immediate familiarity of tonal smoothness in the guitar and Jenkins‘ gruff, Fallon-style bluesy delivery and cadence. There’s boogie momentum right from the start of “Bullets and Kisses,” which launches One Eyed King of the Blind, and the foursome only letup on the throttle when they find some advantage in doing so. Interestingly, as Clutch has grown bluesier over time, so have Kingsnake, and where Sugar Daddie were once brash enough to see American Rickshaw released through hardcore-minded Thorp Records, these songs present a mature course in their mid-paced stomp, “Bullets and Kisses” opening wide to a fervent Blast Tyrant-style groove that finds complement in the immediate rush of “Too Little, too Late” setting the stage à la Robot Hive/Exodus for the arrival of the organ on “Fang of the Cobra.” By then, even if you’ve never encountered Kingsnake before, they’ve made their intent clear. And again, whether you come along for the ride on One Eyed King of the Blind is up to you. To borrow a phrase, “the party boat is here.”
For me, some of my favorite moments of One Eyed King of the Blind arrive when Kingsnake sound the most like Kingsnake. “Mountain Girl” is a bit more their own than “Fang of the Cobra,” Kahn stepping in to fill out the verse under Jenkins‘ lines while the guitars sit out, only to return for the shuffling chorus, and the straightforward fuzz that starts “Whispering Eye” reminds more of Soundgarden than anything that ever came out of the Free State, and the album’s only instrumental keeps that course throughout, giving some appreciated respite from the more recognizable stylistic elements at play elsewhere. Handclaps, acoustic strum, foot-tapping and Jenkins‘ blues revive the spirit on “Know the Way Down,” but even here Kingsnake show flashes of individuality, taking the unplugged cut and transitioning — after a tambourine shake — to an upward-fading plugged-in jam that fills out the remainder of the 5:25. As the shortest cut, the 2:44 “Mala Suerte” stomps its way in and offers funky guitar interplay and in-pocket basslines leading to a well-placed solo, highlighting a clean verse/chorus structure and sound that “Mercy” sets almost immediately about disrupting with dirtier tones and a rougher vibe. The aforementioned “black-haired whiskey mama” arrives early and groove appropriately, setting up the final push of “Calling All” — Kahn squeezing a few choice lines into the intro — which doesn’t so much deviate from the formula as offer final confirmation of how ably Kingsnake execute it. One Eyed King of the Blind isn’t going to be for every listener, and even for ardent Clutch fans, there are going to be some who perhaps don’t have the context for where Kingsnake are coming from and how they’ve grown into this sound who simply find it overly familiar, crossing some imaginary line of stylistic redundancy. I’ve found in listening I can see points on either side of the issue, but whatever moves Kingsnake might make here, these songs present a tight, crisp sound from a band who knows exactly where they want to be aesthetically and knows exactly how they want to get down with their material. It’s harder to argue with something when it’s so self-assured.
