"Dislocation Blues"

Chris Whitley's music is described as many things -- American roots, blues, country, alternative rock, blues-roots, alt-country -- and it's all those and more.

Jeff Lang, left, with Chris Whitley

However you label it, his work is clearly of one mind with the passion and profundity of the best blues, so it won't be out of place in BlueNotes (actually, nothing much ever will be).

Whitley died unnecessarily at the age of 45 in November, 2005, and "Dislocation Blues" (Rounder) was among the last albums he recorded. He recorded it with Australian singer-songwriter-guitarist Jeff Lang in Australia, where the album was released last year. It thankfully made its way to the U.S. market this week.

Like most of Whitley's music I've heard, these are disconcertingly intense and personal recordings -- almost painfully expressive and revealing. And equally pleasurably painful to enjoy. Lang adds another, similarly existential dimension, if one could be found to exist.

Their covers are unique, their songwriting powerfully so.

The first track here, which I seem drawn to over and over, is yet another, yet a completely new, visitation to the blues classic "Stagger Lee." (Listen to an audio clip.)

Brooding, slide-tinged tones conjure a sepulchral mood; percussion throbs and penetrates, breathless vocals strain for the beauty and the brutal essence of the song. This hypnotic 71/2-minute dirge sounds like the first real "Stagger Lee" I've ever heard. After all, the tragic death of Billy Lyons was probably never meant to be party music. (Wikipedia offers an interesting history.)

I'm equally impressed with "When I Paint My Masterpiece," heretofore classic Dylan. Whitley gives it a similarly "Stagger Lee" spectral interpretation, and once again makes you feel that this was the way the song was meant to be heard. Lang's mournful harmonies add depth and meaning. Plus you can actually understand the lyrics.

Whitley's and Lang's vocal interplay as they move through the songs illustrate complimentary voices, minds and moods. On Dylan's "Changing of the Guard," they are haunting reminders of the pleasures of the human voice as emotional instruments.

The entire piece of work has a magical quality that seems to emanate from the vocal and instrumental interplay, and tends to defy description. It is edgy, affective, spiritual in ways that less direct music can not be.

And as wonderfully appropriate as the title is, I think I prefer Whitley's unrealized title as revealed in the liner notes: "Road Dog Shall Inherit The Earth."

I guess it's obvious that I like this album, and Whitley's music in particular.

Unfortunately, I didn't pay a lot of attention to Chris Whitley when he was alive. From what I can tell, a lot of other people did likewise. We are all somewhat less for that, but at least his music survives. This rather long review is meant to atone.