Singer, songwriter, and farmer
William Elliott Whitmore has always played in punk clubs. As a result, he's been deeply influenced by acts ranging from
Bad Religion and
Jesus Lizard to
Bad Brains and
Magnetic Fields.
Kilonova is his first album in three years and his debut for Bloodshot.
Whitmore didn’t write a thing on it. These ten tunes were penned by songwriters who include
Bill Withers,
Johnny Cash,
Harlan Howard,
Bad Religion's
Brett Gurewitz,
Jimmie Driftwood, and
Captain Beefheart, to name a few. His approach doesn’t differ all that much from the way he records his own songs; his impassioned, raspy baritone carries their historical weight almost effortlessly. Some tracks, like
Cash's immortal flood ballad "Five Feet High and Risin'," are well-served by the stripped-down acoustic backings, making the lyric more immediate and poignant. On
Magnetic Fields' "Fear of Trains,"
Whitmore's close approach recasts the song in an image so personally affecting it's difficult to believe it isn’t his. One can hear the dubbed train whistle as an extension of the lonely anger and pain in the vocal atop a fingerpicked acoustic guitar.
Howard's "Busted" is delivered as a shambolic country waltz. Everyone from
Roger Miller to
Ray Charles has covered the song, but
Whitmore's electric honky tonk take -- complete with drums and bass -- is a litany of hardship and displaced longing.
Gurewitz's "Don’t Pray on Me" is delivered solo on a strummed banjo, its lyric transformed into a militant protest anthem. His a cappella reading of
Dock Boggs' ornery "Country Blues" is not as otherworldly as the original, but it does come across as a Midwestern folk-blues from the soil, its protagonist a disillusioned farmer looking across the wasted landscape of an America he barely recognizes. The funereal pace of
Bill Withers' "Ain't No Sunshine" seems, on first listen, to add little to the original. That said, the ticking hi-hat and snare that frame his strummed acoustic guitar add ballast while
Whitmore's ragged voice applies a deep blues tone, adding a new dimension. The closing read of
Captain Beefheart's "Bat Chain Puller" may be a tune close to
Whitmore's heart, but this version doesn't really work because he tries too hard to sound like
Don Van Vliet. Backed by a full band (complete with saxophone and percussion), it tames the
Captain's wild, freak-out, free jazz blues unnecessarily. Coming as it does at the tail-end, however, it's a small flaw on an otherwise fine album.
Kilonova does, with that one exception, carry
Whitmore's indelible signature; he imbues these songs with the same commitment and passion he does his original work, making this an essential addition to his catalog.