Gutter Twins- 'Saturnalia '
(Sub Pop, 2008)
Rating: 8

It was bound to happen. Somewhere along the line, Greg Dulli and Mark Lanegan were going to join forces in a display of musical potency matched only by unbridled bad karma. After threatening to collaborate in earnest after spending time together in Dulli’s post-Afghan Whigs outfit The Twilight Singers, Dulli and Lanegan have finally put out a proper record under the nom de plume The Gutter Twins. Saturnalia plays like a bacchanal mixed with a wake, as Dulli and Lanegan trade guttural growls and howls in mapping out alternate routes to a common destination somewhere distinctly south of the pearly gates. The album showcases the qualities that make each performer singularly captivating while allowing the duo to combine their talents in ways that further empower their collective vision. While capable of playing up to their hard earned reputations as children of the night, The Gutter Twins eschew detached irony in lieu of genuinely charged narratives while deftly navigating their own mystique. This road to hell seems surprisingly full of good intentions considering the dueling black clouds at the heart of this project, but the ride remains fun as ever some two decades after the pair’s initial forays into their respective genres.

Greg Dulli has never been mistaken for an introvert. Throughout his Afghan Whigs and Twilight Singers catalogues is sprinkled ample evidence both of his unrelenting ego and the combination of charisma and intelligence that makes that ego bearable and at times more than welcome. Dulli has always come off as someone’s supersized id, a whirling dervish of innuendo and abandon capable of turning the lowest common denominator into high art. Unlike many of his peers, Dulli never shied away from expressing his libidinal urges through his music, yet he’s always demonstrated a bipolar capacity for describing the moment when the bottom inevitably falls out and subverts the mania that precedes that point in time. Mark Lanegan, meanwhile, has always maintained an unspoken distance between that which motivates him and the fruits of his inspiration. Lanegan is more latter day balladeer than amiable frontman, yet his anticharisma has always given his work the requisite extra voltage to justify the effort needed to work past his veneer. The former Screaming Trees singer may not engage in as much specificity as Dulli when it comes to his inner workings, but Lanegan rarely leaves any doubt as to the often turbulent trajectory of his moods.

The pair doesn’t merely compliment each other in metaphorical ways, however, as their work together on Saturnalia allows them to bounce their distinctive vocal styles off one another as if they were disembodied voices locked inside one seriously dark and perpetually percolating brain. Lanegan’s voice seems to have dropped a few octaves over the last couple of decades, as he now sounds like a cross between Tom Waits and Johnny Cash. Dulli, meanwhile, can still hit his trademark high notes with requisite aplomb, and he still stands in possession of that R&B-infused delivery befitting his worldly pursuits. What makes Saturnalia so noteworthy, however, is the pair’s willingness to contemplate their place on other planes besides the one that has most often proved their downfall. The album begins with the track The Stations, as Dulli notes “I hear the rapture’s coming/They say He’ll be here soon/ Right now there’s demons crawling all around my room.” There has always been an autumnal hue to Dulli’s work, and Stations almost stands as a preemptive eulogy for a trip that undoubtedly will feature much in the way of direct and collateral damage. The album demonstrably kicks into gear as the first organ key of God’s Children pierces the ether and leads into a staccato drumbeat before Dulli and Lanegan offer the following invitation: “Come and play with me/ And feel desire/ It’s all in the dark/A walk through the fire.”  By the time Lanegan confesses “Little girls might twitch at the way I itch/ But when I burn/ It’s a son of a bitch” on All Misery/Flowers, it’s clear that these guys aren’t interested in investigating the subtle nuances of sunlight on this album. Saturnalia retains its potency with the pair’s ability to translate their mythical and physical journeys in ways that feature a very real emotional resonance. The guitar storm on Idle Hands serves as the perfect backdrop for Dulli and Lanegan to proffer some top notch fire and brimstone, while tracks like Who Will Lead Us Now show the more restrained and introspective aspects of the group. Their contemplations of things both elemental and ethereal give the project the kind of depth that warrants further efforts to navigate heaven and hell, even if they enjoy certain parts of the trip a bit more than they should. While The Gutter Twins have provided much in the way of self-incriminating evidence to suggest that heaven is indeed “quite a climb”, Saturnalia aptly demonstrates that these particular devils still deserve a little sympathy.

- Brant Miles