Stephen Yerkey - Metaneonatureboy

Genre rock Publisher Echo External Links Official Website Echo

Forget Mike Jones, who is Stephen Yerkey? No, seriously. Who in the hell is Stephen Yerkey? As hard as it is for me to admit, there are some bands and artists that completely fly right past me without so much as a flinch of recognition on my part. There are entire trends and genres that manage to pass me right by, be it due to either ignorance or apathy on my part. But I like to think that I keep as up to date with as much music as possible, so I felt a little lost when I pulled this album out of the case and started to flip through the liner notes. Not only did I not have a clue who Stephen Yerkey was, I didn't recognize a single name listed anywhere inside - not the producer or any of the musical contributors rang a bell for me. Luckily I got over myself rather quickly and decided that it was a good thing to not instantly be able to categorize and pigeonhole this guy.

The opening track, "Songs Put Things," and its shuffling blues anchored by saxophones and electric guitar reminded me of the bastard offspring of a junkyard Tom Waits tune and a John Hiatt stomper. I had the guy pegged as a neo-blues revivalist, especially as the droning organs of "Dark and Bloody Ground" kicked in and Yerkey sang of grief and murder in the tradition of thousands of delta-blues "death songs." But then he started throwing some pretty solid curveballs, what with the torch balladry of "Fall Out of Love" and the spoken word character sketch epic "Cadillacs of That Color." It became clear that this guy was a whole lot more than just another middle-aged white dude trying to revive the blues for the umpteenth time. Over the course of the album jazz solos flowed into experimental sound collage as rockabilly swagger rubbed shoulders with lamenting love songs - all loosely bound together by Yerkey's off-kilter lyrical riffs and guitar chops.

By the end of the ten and a half minute hallucinogenic trip down "Stinson Beach Road" that closes the album, it became clear that Yerkey is a man unafraid to experiment with his influences and to tweak them into something uniquely original. Trouble is, many of these experiments fall just a bit flat despite the obvious talent level of the musicians involved.

"Stinson Beach Road" details the thoughts of a drifter in a tune that travels a similar path to those that bands like Calexico explore, but the disjointed arrangement keeps it from having the true exploratory jam feel that would suit it so well. And while Yerkey's lyrics are often quirky enough to catch the ear ("her house is dark and quiet as an Arabian mosque"), his vocal affectations and random over-singing nearly derails the good bit of groove that does develop. And the less said about the laundry-list controversy rant of "My Baby Love the Western Violence" the better - no one should ever rhyme Unabomber with Jeffrey Dahmer for any reason.

So who is Stephen Yerkey? He's a talented guitar player with an ear for the classicism of blues and jazz and a quick wit with a knack for the awkward metaphor. He's a guy that is obviously in love with music and isn't afraid to take risks in order to bend it towards his vision, one in which blues, jazz, and rock walk hand in hand in hand down the scummy backroads of America. And while Metaneonatureboy makes for an interesting jaunt through his twisted world, there isn't enough charm and substance to make you want to return for another visit. Once he is able to forge this vision into something more engaging and inspiring his name will be one to remember, but until then it will likely remain just under the radar.