Nigel Wearne “The Reckoning”

Blue rhythms and after-dark declarations.

On ‘The Reckoning‘, Nigel Wearne wears his influences proudly; part Nick Cave, Tom Waits, C.W. Stoneking. Each signifies; a card laid up on the green baize stage; death, the magician, and the jester. While these competing expressions simmer, a slinky, reverb-drenched Link Wray-esque rockabilly guitar weaves its magic throughout.

Opener, ‘Choir of the Done Wrong,’ ushers us into the crowd. The band delivers a New Orleans carnival of the dead, a night pulsing with sweat and painted faces. Wearne croons: “Listen to the singer of the song / Singin’ Ooh / Listen to the choir of the done wrong.”

Descending the crypt steps, brushing away cobwebs, Wearne becomes our masked leader, candle aloft, guiding us deeper with each track. The follower, ‘A Moment Too Soon,’ is a bleak and beautiful ballad, like latter-day apocalyptic Dylan with a beguiling hangman’s voice. We’re led merrily through twilight, lyrics and vocals as sly as a cat with a mouse in its jaws: “The sun will rise / like a pin to a balloon, I said what I said / a moment too soon.”

On the title track, the message is stark: “We can no longer pretend / Don’t hold your idols too tight/ or you might strangle the truth tonight.” ‘The Reckoning’ is a picture book of dire predictions. Sepulcher Saints watch on, heeding warnings of false prophets and material lust. While Wearne, crow-like, sits beadily observant, commenting with gnomic declarations and midnight incantations to heed the warnings before it’s too late. It’s a first-rate theatre. The cauldron bubbles with familiar ingredients: a dash of Swordfish Trombone, a pinch of Red Right Hand, a hint of Gris Gris. It’s a potent and intoxicating brew.

While Wearne crafts a world with a Mink Deville-esque rockabilly revival guitar, that occasions into the angular avant-garde of Marc Ribot. The backing is a marvellous midnight mass of Montreal musicians that evoke the smoky blues of Bourbon Street basement bars, haunted by the spirits of New Orleans’ cemeteries. Midnight rhythms, necromantic incantations and introspective meditations – the theatrics are high. However, it’s ‘8 Minutes‘ where the veil thins, revealing genuine emotion as Wearne’s voice takes flight: “Been travelling long, been working so hard/ I would lay down/ I would lay down like you should lay with my now.”

This exhale contemplates the last moments of existence, yearning for the one he loves. It’s a soothing balm for these existential times. Similarly, ‘I Don’t Want This Rage Anymore‘ is as honest as it sounds while ‘People Are Alright,’ with its sweaty, doom-era John Lennon-esque saxophone, glimmers with hope, reminding us that even in the darkest hour, light endures.

Like the masterful misdirection of Tom Waits or the swamp blues bugaloo of C.W. Stoneking… Success here is a question of authenticity and belief. While theatrics are high, Wearne gives room to allow genuine emotion and humanity to come through, like sunlight glinting through the railing, making ‘The Reckoning’ a more welcoming album because of it.