The Shaky Hands – Let it Die – Album Review

I’m going to work from the assumption that The Shaky Hands take their name from The Who song “Maryanne With the Shaky Hand.”  (I’m not going to investigate whether or not this is actually true.  If it’s not, just some bizarre cosmic coincidence, I don’t want to know about it.)  The song’s on The Who Sell Out, which is about the coolest source possible to pull a band name from.  Consider:  The Who released The Who Sell Out as a concept album about the ridiculousness of corporate appropriation of a fundamentally counter-cultural medium; it is packed full of Who songs that you love (“Armenia City in the Sky,” “Relax” and so on) and is a legitimately great record.  Then, thirty some odd years later, “I Can See for Miles” is in a fucking headlight commercial!  It’s on the album that pokes fun at selling out!  I love Pete Townshend and the boys, but this is bullshit on its face, right?  So.  You’ve got the light and the dark of rock and roll music on one record.  The power and the glory of recorded sound paired with the heinousness of whoring it all out.  I’m not saying that the dudes in The Shaky Hands were looking into it that deeply, maybe they just love “Maryanne with the Shaky Hand” or maybe they pulled the name out of a hat.  But, maybe, hopefully, the band is taking a stab at something big, something like: “this is art, but it is commerce at the same time.”  Or an even deeper dichotomy: “this is modern and ancient all at once” or “accessible and aloof” or “pretentious and homey.”  Whatever.  If The Shaky Hands are saying they’re complex and happy about it, then I am too.  If they just thought “The Shaky Hands” was some cold-blooded shit to say before you pop a cap in somebody’s ass, I’m good with that as well.

Discussion of Let it Die probably needs to start at the record’s end, the mind-numbing “Leave it All.”  The chorus is the hare krishna chant, more or less the same one from “My Sweet Lord,” but, if you can dig this, delivered more earnestly.  I’ve listened to this track two dozen times since I got the record and I’m convinced that it is intended sincerely and not ironically.  Nick Delffs asks “how do all find our way back home again?” and then laces into “hare krishna, hare krishna, krishna krishna hare.”  It is 2009, but this track could have waltzed out of 1974.  It wraps up with a killer slow building section that culminates in truly hair-raising hare krishna chants.  It is a life-affirming sound, more powerful because the band means it.  I get tired of cats who are too cool to engage in legitimate sentiment, that above it all hipster sneer.  The Shaky Hands aren’t down with that, opting to pump out tunes packed with homespun sincerity, which is sweet.  The Shaky Hands don’t care if you think they’re cool, they only want you to think that they’re good.

The ethos of the album as a whole follows the pattern in “Leave it All.”  This is a rock record, complete with guitar solos, anthemic choruses and manic drum fills.  “Slip Away” sounds like a bizarre cross of vintage Elvis Costello and non-shitty, early-Jersey Springsteen.  (Essentially, it is what would happen if “Tenth Avenue Freezeout” divorced the saxophone to raise a bastard lovechild with “Oliver’s Army.”)  It is three minutes of near-perfect rock escapism.  “Gonna Hold You Tonight” has a sweet acoustic guitar line and gently warbling vocals that work perfectly for the beginning of autumn.  (You know that achy nostalgia you get when leaves start to turn and you think off the waning summer, where you’re longing for warmth and passion, but you know that cold is on the horizon?  That’s what this cut sounds like.)

(I’ve been pretty obnoxious about my recent acquisition of a record player.  This is the last time I’ll mention it for awhile.  Promise.)  I’m going to but Let it Die on vinyl and play the shit out of for six months or so.  I’m not going to handle it very carefully, maybe put it on the turntable after a couple of beers, leave the cover off when it plays so it gets a little bit of dust, toss it non-nonchalantly back into its sleeve and so forth.  Then I’m going to put it away for six months and only listen to it electronically when I get the urge.  When I pull out the vinyl (one year from the day I bought it) I’m hoping that it has a nice patina of surface scratches, so that when I spin it, it sounds like its thirty years old, popping and crackling out of the speakers.  These are the things this record makes you think about.

The Shaky Hands – Allison and the Ancient Eyes

Snag The Shaky Hands at insound.