The Cave Singers No Witch

The Cave Singers spend a good deal of time beyond the darkened edges of Seattle, in themist and mystic, among the wolves and redwoods. And their songs, at least on record, havealways been like beautiful, faded grayscale photos of this hinterland. Now, these photos areinjected with hot blood and technicolor, a ferocity and bite we've yet to see from the band.By all accounts, No Witch is The Cave Singers' rock record. Laid to tape with dark wizardproducer Randall Dunn (Black Mountain, Sunn O))), Boris), No Witch is grander and morelush than The Cave Singers' previous efforts. It's also a nervier, scrappier affair: greasy guitarsbuck and rear up; Eastern-influenced blues snake through songs; gospel choirs rise up liketidal waves. There are big, grinning nods to Beggar's Banquet-era Stones, the best ofMellencamp ("Clever Creatures") and the juke joint legends of Mississippi like JuniorKimbrough and R.L. Burnside ("Black Leaf " and "No Prosecution If We Bail"). Of course,it's all filtered through that particular, magical Cave Singers formula: Pete Quirk's reedy,behind-the-beat delivery and existential wordplay, Derek Fudesco's lyrical guitar runs anddrummer Marty Lunds' no nonsense rhythms.No Witch is a newfound sheen to the aura that made The Cave Singers' music so special tobegin with. All told, there's treasure to be found here for the biker gang weekender, thedouble rainbow chaser and all that falls in the valley between them.