Slash “Orgy Of The Damned
The laconic figure that is Slash is also one of the hardest working. If not throwing down in stadiums with Guns N’ Roses, he’s treading the boards with Myles Kennedy. If he’s not appearing at the Oscars, he releasing his own music. Next off the never ending mystery magical conveyor belt of sounds is Orgy Of The Damned.
In the same spirit of Slash’s debut solo album, each song has a selection of different vocalists with each chosen for the warmth they can give a particular song.
This particular collection is heavily weighted around rhythm and blues, the soulful spirit of African American slave music. Slash’s trademark guitar work has always been more spirit than shred however that is often missed in the blur of rock. It was only a matter of time before he delved into his own ancestry and let his guitar speak how it was intended.
Opening track the The Pusher, made famous by Steppenwolf, is tailored made for The Black Crowes Chris Robinson, his descriptive beaten up vocals leading a band that builds up behind him with each groove.
Hoochie Coochie Man, the song with that ‘durn-ner-ner-ner-nun’ groove made famous by Willie Dixon, is electrifying glorious. Billy F Gibbons from ZZ Top’s bar room gruff and the duelling solos take you on a journey straight into a Texas saloon, shooting moonshine and immersing yourself in that beat. If turned up loud, there is no way your feet don’t tap.
A stomping version of Fleetwood Mac’s Oh Well featuring Chris Stapleton, who slurs and drawls his way through, is a romping song of time changes, fret burning solos and solid advice about talking to God.
The exceptional array of guests keep coming, Gary Clark Jr, Dorothy and even a return of Slash’s debut album alumni Iggy Pop, who lends his croaky smoke stained vocals to Awful Dream, an acoustic shuffle of life regrets.
Free’s Paul Rodgers croons on Born Under A Bad Sign while Slash equally makes his storytelling solos seems effortless.
Demi Lovato, yes that Demi Lovato, gets the daunting task of taking on Papa Was A Rolling Stone and she brings a Motown funk that ignites the track into one of Slash’s best pieces of recent work.
Howlin’ Wolf’s Killing Floor has the instantly recognisable Brian Johnson of AC/DC laying the verses, Aerosmith’s Steven Tyler the showstopper with the harmonica as Slash dines out of the classics grooves that would make Hendrix proud.
Beth Hart comes in for the slow dance blues under the disco ball that is Stormy Monday, her voice full and rich in life’s trials that is the cornerstone of classic blues. Slash’s fingers must have the devil in them. Lord have mercy indeed.
This a fun album, a jam album made by mates. It’s a perfect whisky sour sipping, sitting on the porch on a lazy sunny afternoon album. This album is, as Beth Hart says ‘is badass’. Turn up loud, close your eyes and really feel it.
Album Review By Iain McCallum
