The Gun Club’s ghosts might well have turned into builders to extend their highway from Nashville to Lille – burying the last remaining landmarks under the gluey tar while a burning wind was blowing.
In the desert, Amélie D.Noordzee calls up thunder with Jeffrey Lee Pierce, tames the rattlesnake with Kate Bush, and heals the puma’s paw with Karen Dalton. She’s been filthying her homeless folk music with care for almost ten years. It has the tension of an electric bow piercing your stomach, bringing it on the edge of breaking point. It feels rough, and it’s better that way – you can’t wash pain away by drinking water.