The 1990’s were kind of a magical
time for me, in retrospect. I started junior high, high school and college in
the 90s. I had my first steady girlfriend, lost my virginity and had my first
pregnancy scare, all in the 90s. I started smoking. I started drinking. I
started experimenting with drugs. It was a time for new and exciting journeys
for me, from one extreme to the other. I literally started the decade not even
a teenager yet and turned 21 in 1999, the final year of the 90s. No other
decade in the near-40 years that I’ve been alive has had as much of a hand in
shaping the person I am today. Interests, people, jobs and events came and
went, and the music that I discovered throughout was the most constant and
important part of this progression.
I wish I could discuss every band
that I discovered in the 90s that eventually became a favorite, but that would
make for a much longer piece. However, I do want to talk about one band in
particular that influenced me in more ways than I can count. The Afghan Whigs’
1993 major label debut, Gentlemen,
was, besides being my entry point to their music, critical in both my creative
and personal life. Simultaneously sexy and misanthropic, the Whigs’ melding of
indie rock with R&B and other African-American influences set them apart
from most of their contemporaries. The band have remained critical darlings
over the years and Gentlemen was the
landmark that brought them this notoriety. That said, this article is NOT about
Gentlemen.
By the time Gentlemen was released, the Whigs already had three records under
their belt. Upon finding this out, I had to investigate. “What kind of sordid
past could such a band have had to develop into this amalgam of dark rock &
roll and sultry soul?” I thought. The first two albums, while certainly showing
signs of future brilliance, were not much more than bratty college rock - think
The Replacements minus balls. Their third album (and second for Sub Pop
Records), Congregation, is the point
when the band began its transformation. Congregation
still possesses some of the noisy grit of the early records but adds layers of
influences from the band’s members. Chief songwriter Greg Dulli’s affinity for
R&B and blues is perhaps most prominent, but also evident is lead guitarist
Rick McCollum’s interest in free jazz and world music.
Dulli’s lyrics tend to be
unsettling, as he touches on addiction, guilt, intimacy and sexual deviancy
interchangeably, sometimes within the same song. He sings of being both
predator (as in the record’s first single “Conjure Me,” or the boozy,
after-hours-style ballad “Tonight”) and prey (as in the desperate “I’m Her
Slave”). Congregation also seems to
have a darkly religious theme running throughout the album. “I am your creator,
come with me my congregation,” Dulli sings on the title track, delivered from
the point of view of a hostile deity (“get up, I’ll smack you back down”).
Further tying into this theme is the cover version of “The Temple” from the
rock opera Jesus Christ Superstar, of
which Dulli was an avid fan. Dulli’s lyrics and voice are perfectly juxtaposed
with the rock/soul hybrid of the band. McCollum’s leads are dissonant and
jagged in the vein of early Fugazi, but he adds a kind of funk swagger to his
playing that recalls the Bar-Kays or Curtis Mayfield’s finest moments. Adding
to this atmosphere is the tribal-style drumming of Steve Earle (not that Steve Earle - the Whigs’ regular
drummer), who would influence a teenaged me in my own creative pursuits. The
band’s influences really come together on the hidden track “Miles Iz Dead,” a
last-minute tribute song added to the album when news of Miles Davis’ passing
reached Dulli while in the studio.
Congregation
was largely recorded in 1991, a time when the Whigs’ label, Sub Pop, was
struggling financially. If it weren’t for a certain trio from Aberdeen,
Washington releasing their breakthrough album Nevermind and effectively saving the label from bankruptcy, Congregation may never have become a
thing. Perhaps this is just me, but the “album-that-almost-wasn’t” aspect of
this record adds to the mystique of the Afghan Whigs as well.
I know that many who are familiar
with the band are mostly familiar with Gentlemen,
or the other latter day major label albums that brought the band to the
mainstream. And that is okay, because those records are killer. But this is the
record that kick-started that journey for the band. Even Dulli himself says
about Congregation that it’s “the
record where we came into our own.” It’s the perfect bridge between the raw
aggression of their early material and the sexy soulfulness of their later
career. Honestly, I could go on and on about the album, and the Afghan Whigs in
general. They coaxed me into manhood in a way that no other band did. To have
them be one of the most important bands to me during my formative years gives
this stepping stone album an extremely special place in my heart. So, no amount
of adjective-slinging will capture that magic that is Congregation. In other words, don’t take my word for it. Listen to
the record.
-
Jonathan Eagle
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