Dax Riggs, Say Goodnight to the World

Fat Possum Records, 2010

http://www.myspace.com/daxriggs

Reviewed by Scott.

A few weeks ago, I made the journey out into a rainy and otherwise pretty shitty Sunday night to see Dax Riggs. He was playing at a tiny venue in New York – the kind of place where you have to carry your gear through the crowd to reach the stage, the best kind of place – and I had never seen him before. Riggs was once the singer for the legendary Acid Bath, and I think his eclectic vocal style – alternating between weird crooning and harsh screams – was the best part of the band’s sound. Since the demise of Acid Bath (tragic -- they broke up after the bassist died), Riggs has moved away from extreme metal and fully embraced the bluesy, rock and roll roots side of his previous band. He formed Agents of Oblivion and released one album of excellent stoner rock, and then Deadboy and the Elephant Men, which seems to have morphed into a Dax Riggs solo career (one album has been released under both the DBATEM and DR names). 

His newest, Say Goodnight to the World, is Riggs’s second proper solo album, and it sounds like a slightly more subdued version of 2007’s We Only Sing of Blood or Love. When I showed up at the venue a few weeks ago, I had only heard some clips of the songs and was planning to get the album that night. I was immediately impressed by the new material, and, looking back, it seemed like he played the entire album, or close to it (DR songs tend to be pretty short – nothing on We Only Sing of Blood or Love exceeds three minutes, and the new album only clocks in at around thirty five). 

But, as much as I appreciate Riggs as a vocalist, or thought I did, I was not prepared for his performance. Dax Riggs can sing like a motherfucker. It was mesmerizing. I don’t think I can describe the noises that came out of that guy, and just listening to the album doesn’t do him justice. That’s why I was so surprised: there’s a real intensity and control behind the voice, and when you hear it live , drenched with reverb, you hear something the recordings only hint at. Although Riggs’s musical style has changed since the Acid Bath days, his lyrical subject matter hasn’t, and when he’s wailing and howling and moaning about skulls, graves, suicide, insanity, demons, blood, and handful of other (constantly) recurring themes – well, it’s kind of creepy. Creepy in the way that certain old blues masters like Howlin’ Wolf can be, which is something I realized while they were playing Howlin’ Wolf between bands. 

Anyway, the album: it’s good. The music is straightforward: bluesy, stripped down, dark, a little hint of psychedelia here and there. There’s a feeling of stagnation in the songs,  in that nothing seems to go anywhere – drowsy riffs loop around themselves, simple bass lines creep along, and the tempos stay fairly constant, at least within individual songs. Overall the album rocks less than its predecessor, and it’s miles away from Acid Bath, but the mood fits Riggs’s voice well. 

If there’s one problem with this album, though, it’s that it occasionally seems like little more than a platform for the vocals. That’s not necessarily a bad thing, and, in fact, might be good because it means there isn’t much to distract from Riggs’s singing. But the music can feel bland, and at certain moments you realize that the vocals aren’t just enhancing but sort of redeeming the album. It’s like the power and charisma of the vocals are what keep the music from sliding into mediocrity (not unlike some of Morrissey’s solo stuff).

That aside, Say Goodnight to the World is worth checking out. Along with the original material, there’s a cover of “Heartbreak Hotel” – a risky move, I think, and one that could have easily ended up sounding ridiculous. But Riggs pulls it off, and when he sings that famous line “I get so lonely baby, I could die,” he doesn’t sound like he’s fucking around. Other stand out songs are the title track, “I Hear Satan,” the more upbeat and awesomely named “Gravedirt On My Blue Suede Shirts” (which pretty well sums up the whole DR vibe), and the haunting “See You All in Hell or New Orleans.” Riggs walks a fine line between tongue-in-cheek macabre and genuinely haunting, sorrowful stuff, and you hear all of it on this album. But “See You All in Hell or New Orleans,” the closing track, is some serious shit – a mournful, despairing song that sounds like some of the quieter, more depressing moments on Down albums distilled into a swampy funeral dirge. It’s the song I couldn’t stop thinking about, walking back home through dark and rainy streets after the concert. Even if this ex-Acid Bath singer has left metal behind, he’s only getting better at the doom.