Rhys Bloodjoy, the Desolation Cowboy himself, stalks the rainy streets, wolf-like, wraith-like. An urban(e) gentleman with a shogun spirit.
On stage he beats his guitar with his hand then loops these to create the backing for his guitar to knock the breath from your body. A wiry figure, head hooded, he erupts his one man drama diorama, whipping himself and the crowd into fervour, loosing himself within the music and expecting the crowd to follow him down. If John Cale was in Massive Attack and they scored Westerns you may get close to the heart of this noir-ish ninja, but far from the soul.
Bloodjoy’s music is brutalism set to music; the DIY loops, the furious oil-slick guitar and a banshee howl. Primitive, back street sea-shanties. All mixed with the homespun tang of pale ale and everyday violence. It’s psych but the beats become trance. Intensity breeds fascination. His music is stripped back but heavy, a man with no background who sees the meaning of all.
Arriving near Christmas are two obsessive missives on glorious cool-as-stink 7″…
‘Scandinavian Girlfriend’ has all sorts of radioactive Mazzy Star spewage, a slow spread of malevolence.
‘Broken Window’ has a mechanical, obtuse, cracked riff played over, over and fucking over, until your stomach is tied up in knots. A garage-eastern-psych-punk splattering of blood.
A hypnotic live act and a unique sound. Get on the trail of the Desolation Cowboy…