Lee Harvey Osmond
Allow us to draw attention to the new slab by the eminent and hirsute Steeltown
reprobate,
Lee Harvey Osmond
, aka
Tom Wilson
aka one of three
Rodeo Kings,
aka that
large, melodic growling man from the former
Junkhouse.
Beautiful Scars
is the third
solo album from Tom
Wilson’s Lee Harvey Osmond and follows two albums,
A
Quiet Evil
and
The Folk Sinner
which were previously
longlisted for the
Polaris Prize
and nominated for
a
Juno
. In addition to releasing another album, Tom
Wilson has recently signed
a deal with
Random
House
for the publishing of his first book. Lee Harvey
Osmond heads for Canada’s West Coast for a string of
dates with
Colin James
beginning on
March 24.
Produced by
Michael Timmins
(Cowboy Junkies) in the intimacy of his Toronto
Ronce
svalle studio, the humanity of the album is like the warmth of blood that rushes to
the cut: a sudden alive jolt in the middle of peril and uncertainty; a suspension of
possibility that anything can happen next. Redolent with swooning horns and guitars
tha
t bob and weave, Lee Harvey Osmond’s voice
-?
forever the hallmark of his sound
which spans over three decades of work
-?
sounds, here, like a warm hand to the
forehead, an arm on the arm of the stricken, a comforting growl at the heart of a
screaming world.
At once evoking
Howlin’ Wolf, Mike Scott
and
Roy Loney
,
Beautiful
Scars
bends and twists and stretches and squeezes Lee Harvey Osmond’s deep baritone
-?
the producer treating it as if caged in a transistor radio, bathed in echo from above, or
sunk in the muck of distortion.
The strength of the songs notwithstanding,
Beautiful
Scars
is a fascinating vocal journey
to rank among the great sonic Canadian records of our time.
Through the truncheon
swing of “Loser For Your Love” to the haunting balladry of “Come And Go” to the
morose beauty
of “How Does It Feel” to
the exotic fusio
n of the album’s penultimate
track, “Black Spruce,”
Beautiful Scars
journeys between the quiet, smouldering, raging,
moving, and sad. Lyrically, Lee Harvey Osmond reflects on the mistakes of the singer’s
past with the resigned perspective of someone coming
through the other side.
A song like “Hey, Hey, Hey”, featuring a thrilling slide guitar piece by
Aaron
Goldstein
(Elliot BROOD, City And Colour, Cowboy Junkies) describes two lovers caught
in the throes of personal despair, their “dreams turned to rust,
” their lives waiting until
“the morning comes and sweeps us both away.” Lee Harvey Osmond sings: “The world
is fucked up. And so are you and I.” It defines an album, and a songwriter, bereft of any
choices other than to keep moving for fear of sinking int
o the mire of a dark past.
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