Bradley Hathaway - A Mouth Full Of Dust

I've been meaning to write up this review for a while now, but a combination of my own laziness and working full time has curtailed it. Mostly the former, really. I heard about this lad through Rob St. John who was supposed to be supporting him at a recent Edinburgh gig, but as it turned out, Hathaway was deported on arrival in the UK - am I correct Rob? Described as being "six strings and the truth" by Rob, an immediately worrying proposition. But this is so much more than Dashboard Confessional style gash.

Firstly, I should say that the boy is a proper poet. Like, he has collections out and stuff. Naturally then, the lyrics are to the fore on this record and, crucially, they're backed with some thunderous instrumentation, as well as the obligatory softly spoken acoustic numbers. In particular the screaming opening track 'Covered In The Blood', and with a title like that you're pretty much setting out your stall with banners and sirens aren't you. The centrepiece however is the suitably epic 'Samual' which opens with a monologue about the song's namesake before breaking into a slow building monster. This stunning track reaches a zenith with the fantastic lyric "my love is a raisin, and god's is a pumpkin or a canteloupe or a watermelon or a really big something.. AND I WANNA EAT IT!!" before the band lays waste to the scene. It's Dylan at his most visceral and there's something of the wandering thoughts of messers Berman and Callaghan in the lyrics. I'm not normally into overtly religious sentiments but as with Sufan Stevens, if the music is good enough and the lyrics interesting enough then it really doesn't matter. Bland worship music this is not. In fact it's more akin to the god-bothering antics of Nick Cave.

The gentle 'Look Up' is another highlight, whilst the affecting 'Mary' is a complemented with some well scored strings. Not sickly, not soaring, but subtle enough to bring a melancholy edge to the track. There's an underlying sentiment of disillusionment on this record, and it's complented with some delightful musical touches, dashes of piano here and there, and pleasant little banjo plucking emerging in parts. But when the song demands a full on cathartic release to tie in with the lyrical sentiment then Hathaway isn't afraid to let loose the electric guitar and cymbals.