In their stomp and bluster, O’Death evokes nothing less than a hellish barn party, seeming to provoke revelry but containing a dark heart. Check out the buzzing backing vocals on “Legs To Sin,” like a demon over singer Greg Jamie’s shoulder. Pay attention to the titling: hymns, limbs, skin ... all broken. These are songs of violence and romantic fury, with retribution to come later, but for now we’ve got to move.

The sound of O’Death is not of 2008, but maybe it could be. It’s mountain music, from the fields and railroads and what have you. It hasn’t changed much since the days of Bascom Lamar Lunsford – or substitute who you’d like. That’s the thing, it’s folk music and it doesn’t change, which is precisely the point. It is built on the back of the last man to do it, on what today is called plagiarism but used to be interpolation. Grandpa teaches you “Mole in the Ground,” and decades later you’re still doing it. The form has changed, but it’s the same old song. These days, Red Hot Chili Peppers commit “Mary Jane´s Last Dance” to this folk tradition, and they’re crucified. No, O’Death are not Radiohead; they’re carrying a torch, not reinventing the musical wheel.

Saws and jugs will only get you so far, however, and what elevates O’Death has got to be that voice. Jamie was born to either sing or bark at carnivals, and for my money he chose the right path. There is near-religious anger in his tone that evokes the great Peter Stampfel of The Holy Modal Rounders (among others). I am of the opinion that however well a preacher knows the Bible, it’s his performance that sells it to the flock, and Jamie fits neatly into that idea. It’s an affectation that may turn off the more conservative listener, but he´s creating a kind of character that´s suitable to tell his stories – even though, in numbers like “Low Tide” the true meaning can remain elusive.

Despite their entrenchment in the folk genre, O’Death have a particular knack for avoiding sentimentality and turning even the most heartfelt moments upside down. Just as the Bible does not mourn its subjects, nor does this band stew or mope. Forget ballads for aggravating beauties or wishes to return home. Their drunken pseudo-punk revelry may recall The Pogues, but that band had some sad, slow hits. O’Death play like they’re on the way to Hades and don’t have time to stop and examine. Jamie goes over his sins, his past, and comes away unclean. His audience is all the better for it.

Artist: O’Death
Album: Broken Hymns, Limbs and Skin (Kemodo Records)

Jessie Skinner has had his work published in TORO, MONDO, and other magazines that use capital letters excessively.