Reformed delinquent Micah P Hinson’s new record is a somewhat gloomy affair, vaguely intended as a concept album exploring the degradation of the American Dream in Obama’s USA. (Yes that’s right: Obama’s USA. You can read more about Hinson’s fairly juvenile and pig-headed political views here.)
Having floated in and out of the limelight since his emergence in 2004, Micah has one foot strategically placed in hipsterville – boasting a record deal with Full Time Hobby and a cosy relationship with The Earlies – while remaining firmly within his own universe.
Unlike many of his musical peers Hinson is a man of the country – descended in part from the Native American Chickasaw tribe – and is firmly tied to his hometown of Alibene, Texas. Most of the neo-folk music to emerge over the past decade has borne the subtle influences and inflections that come from the culture clash of the modern city. In contrast, …the Pioneer Saboteurs sounds like the country and its wide open spaces: isolated and free, but alone.
These songs are grandiose and lumbering; a sound that echoes through canyons and spills across prairies. Solitary acoustic strums drown amidst glowering strings and dense reverb. It’s these deep textures and soundscapes that are most striking on the record. Hinson’s trembling voice – old beyond his years – booms over walls of feedback and ambient noise, while snippets of looped drums are scattered here and there, often falling slightly askew and off beat. In the thickest moments your speakers seem to swell and compress certain tones. His production – this being the first of Hinson’s records to be almost entirely self-produced – is as disorienting as it is engaging. Album highlight ‘2’s & 3’s’ builds to an awesome cacophony of noise and clattering drums, showcasing all Hinson’s new tricks for pulling many broken and spoiling ingredients together into something anthemic.
Micah seems to have taken the Americana he so evidently adores and fed it through a hulk of dusty machinery, distorting every sound into something approaching cinematic; both spacious and claustrophobic at the same time. Resisting the easy options that tempt and trip so many artists toying with a ‘big’ sound, it is to his credit that the touches which widen these songs out into something epic are unpredictable and odd.
All the same, making a great album requires a little more movement and midway through “…the Pioneer Saboteurs” is in danger of slumping into a dirge. Once you’ve got the gist of the theme you can’t help but look around for a few more tunes, a desire unalleviated by album closer ‘The Returning’s’ 11 minutes of feedback and meandering strings.
An irritating number of songs seem to mosey in, hang around for a few minutes and end before they have the chance to go anywhere. At it’s worst this record sounds less like an album than a bunch of demos – albeit impressive ones – with a lot of work still to be done.
There’s no denying that parts of this album are exceptionally beautiful, but they are all too easily washed away or replayed into a tedious drawl. With a bit of tidying up, a little restraint on those effects and a few more melodies Hinson could be on the verge of something spectacular. We can only hope.
