REVIEW: God Street Wine, God Street Wine (Mercury)
- Daniel Aloi
Never mind the wherefores of all these new self-titled albums from bands that have been around for ages, what I really want to question is, what does God Street Wine truly aspire to be?
Yes, they're a "jam band." Meaning, they play extended instrumental passages that go on for-freakin'-ever and their fans think that's far-freakin'-out. But these New York City groovers are capable of going beyond all those hippie-lovin' good vibes and making an artistic statement. After finally releasing one very good album (1996's home studio effort Red , with its unerring simulations of Dylan and Pink Floyd), GSW has reverted to selling records for Winos (as its fans are punnily known) and errant, what-do-I-do-now? Deadheads.
The songs on God Street Wine are tailor-made to be played live, but they all stop short of what they were built for - the jams. "Angeline," "Feather" and "She Comes Up Softly" are all decent songs, while "Happy Birthday, Mr. President" and "Don't Speak of These Things" are hollow, Dead-like anthems-in-waiting.
There's nothing inherently wrong with any of this - that is, if Red weren't out there for contrast. I can't fault anyone for playing the soundtrack for someone's communal good time, especially in this shoe-gazing, mosh injury-prone era.
I just expected so much more. I once said that GSW were the most deserving of all the bands in line to take the Grateful Dead's place (Dave Matthews being a one-note messiah and Phish just too damn weird), and by God if that isn't coming true. Sorry, guys. Next time, don't read your own press.
