IN REVIEW: John Butler Trio - "Flesh & Blood"

It's getting harder and harder to pinpoint John Butler's intentions. Originally presented as a Bonnaroo-friendly outback jam band, his Trio swapped out its rhythm section before dropping 2010's April Uprising. That album seemed like the proverbial swing for the fences, a concise and straightforward affair with its mind on its fans and its heart fixed on the airwaves. Not a problematic attitude, but it made for an uneven record; for every moment of artistic brilliance (i.e. Revolution, I'd Do Anything) there was an equal or greater measure of fluffed up pop-leaning perplexity (C'Mon Now, Close To You). The move gained Butler some attention, but didn't do much service to existing fans eager to hear him do what he does best, which is play a mean guitar.

Flesh & Blood, then, feels like a big win at first; its A-side does away with most of the blatant mainstream reaching tunes, yielding to good, simple songs that sometimes stretch out just enough for a slick solo to squeeze in. And, it should be mentioned that one of the nagging issues of past Butler releases has been addressed; whereas previous albums ran well past a dozen tracks and sometimes overstayed their welcome, Flesh & Blood is (relatively) lean at 11 tracks and 52 minutes. This makes for an album that's much easier to digest in one sitting, even though it's only five minutes shorter than April Uprising.

Getting back to Flesh & Blood's A-side, it's hard not to feel like you're seeing an old friend when the volume goes up and Butler cuts loose. Two easy album highlights, Living In The City and Blame It On Me, reclaim the edge that was lost on much of April Uprising, while subtler tracks like Bullet Girl and Spring To Come are earnest and emotionally raw. Devil Woman veers dangerously close to eye-rolling territory with its lyrics (which have never been Butler's strong suit), but the song's energy saves it from embarrassment.

Then, just as we're settled in and comfy, out comes the rug from under us. Lead single Only One, as sugary sweet as anything in Butler's discography, hits like a cotton candy pipe bomb. Coming into the album I was expecting the worst because of this song, and the best compliment I can pay Flesh & Blood is that Only One is the worst song on it.

It's amazing how much damage the wrong song in the wrong place can do to an album, though; with the album's sunniest moment followed by the album's two slowest kills the momentum and deflates any excitement built up for the album. Young And Wild and Wings Are Wide aren't terrible songs, they're just in a terrible place. By the time the quasi-political How You Sleep At Night and the uncharacteristically bitter closer You're Free roll around, you've already checked out.

I wouldn't have such harsh grievances if Butler were saying something truly interesting. However, as I mentioned, he's a great guitarist and not-so-much lyricist. If you've heard a John Butler album before, you already know he loves his woman but is fed up with her sometimes, and you already know he loves the earth and hates The Man. Flesh & Blood deviates very little, though Wings Are Wide is a touching tribute to his grandmother. By and large, though, the lyric sheet doesn't have much to offer.

I don't like being so harsh on this album, and there really is a lot here worth celebrating. It's just that, whether the problem lies with the sequencing or my head, it seems to lose its steam at the halfway point, sputtering out instead of reaching a crescendo. Still, it's not as explicitly mainstream-minded as its predecessor, and a handful of these tunes will sound brilliant on Butler's neverending festival circuit.

February 4, 2014 • Jarrah/Vanguard

Highlights Spring To Come • Living in the City • Blame It On Me