Heathen Blux

Lee MilesHeathen BluxFolk-footed songwriter Lee Miles' new album might not be the best album of the year. It might not even be the best in Miles’ home state or city – there are far too maybe genres, sub-genres and sensitive artists out there for statements so grand. Heathen Blux is, however, the kind of timeless, labored-over album that will bring on such strong declarations. It rings through triumphantly with stark poetics, haunting accompaniments and a collection of rarely told truths that could only be described as "fighting words." Calling Blux an angry political folk record is child's play; Blux is, in Miles' own words, "about the people who've been forgotten. It's about treason as the new patriotism; people are sold down the river every day by the folks closest to them." It's about, well, people, society, history and trust. Simple things made cloudy by those in power. Heathen Blux is, in frank terms, a modestly recorded, methodically organic singer/songwriter album about one man’s feelings on modern times.

The lyrics pop to the head throughout Blux, surely, but also prominent are Miles’ thrifty arrangements, meticulous vocals and creative phrasings. An artist with many great moments in his past, Miles sounds anew here, as if everything leading up to the release of Blux was preparation or even trial-and-error, especially his vocal style. That said, the song arrangements aren’t convoluted neu-folk art pieces. They’re creative and minimalist, made for interesting, affable listening. Miles takes the slack-y, organic, off-beat sound Will Oldham perfected about a decade or so ago and makes it his own, so much so that Oldham comparisons - save for a vocal inflection here and there - no longer function. The nods to Miles heroes Neil Young and Bob Dylan still linger in spirit, but Miles has really accomplished something with Blux: he’s found a small corner of the folk-y/songwriter genre that hasn’t yet been captured. For this, Blux almost feels like a debut, or at least Miles’ first proper artistic launch.

No matter how obscured the themes sometimes are in Miles’ latest set of lyrics, Blux has an unavoidable political backbone that can’t be ignored - thankfully one that never defaults to the simplistic "go team, revolt!" methodology. Miles sings these fight songs with vocals so detailed and strong that you have to perk up and listen to his conviction as he drops punchline-worthy observations about a dumbed-down society where clever politicians run as wild as cowboys once did. We, as everyday citizens, know very little about what really goes on; Miles' writing is always aware of that, landing home the gist - usually through a storyteller approach - without ever coming off as anything other than a sturdy, sometimes weary voice for what should be and rarely is. Most important to this specific brand of usually all too fickle, uninformed subject matter is the character at the center of it all; Miles never once takes a break to indulge in his own character but, rather, he tells his stories and lands his points in vague, never sensational terms. Lines like “spill my blood before you take my home,” “the healers make sick yet they cash in the checks from the drugs they sell” are about as obvious as they come here, making for an album worth studying, living with and believing in.

“Blux is the first cohesive, concise album I’ve done. The sound is rough but very clear,” offered the artist about his recent recordings, all of which he wrote, played, recorded and produced by himself in a modest studio assembled in his girlfriend’s basement. “I was blacking out. I was dizzy and weak; I felt like I was dying,” Miles said about the state he was in during the three or so months it took him to write and record the 23 songs Blux’ 11-song tracklist is coiled from. “When you're sick and you feel like you're going to die you lose any sense of wanting to elevate yourself for ego purposes. This album is for the folks who haven't forgotten that."    10/10

Written by G. William Locke