A lot of Vic Chesnutt's hardcore fans prefer his music the way they first heard it, on early albums like Little and West Of Rome, where the Georgia singer-songwriter relied almost exclusively on his craggy voice, coarsely strummed acoustic guitar, and remarkably vivid New South storytelling. But Chesnutt is far more accessible working with a full band, as on Is The Actor Happy?, The Salesman And Bernadette, and his latest, Ghetto Bells. With support from string arranger Van Dyke Parks, percussionist Don Heffington, and suddenly ubiquitous fusion guitarist Bill Frisell, Chesnutt gives his gutter-cat growl and shapeless melodies more body.
The record is more eclectic than most Chesnutt releases; highlights include the honeyed tones of Liz Durrett singing backup on the gentle "What Do You Mean?" and the ominous thump of "Little Caesar," which runs backward-masked guitar under a thinly veiled critique of George W. Bush's military adventures. The album's high point is the spare, seven-and-a-half-minute "Forthright," which mostly consists of a few idly plucked instruments and Chesnutt's dreamy, pleading vocal. But while a whole album of songs like "Forthright" would be overly austere, coming in the middle of Ghetto Bells' rich stew, the song's simpler flavors taste exactly right.
While not overtly Chesnutt-indebted, Decibully has a similar penchant for turning simple Americana into something broader and more cinematic. The band's sophomore LP, Sing Out America, aims for clatter and sweep and gets there routinely, as on the majestic "Megan & Magill," which stacks banjo, handclaps, foot-stomps, drum rolls, and clanging electric guitar into a teetering, towering plea for understanding. Meanwhile, the fluid, moaning ballad "Rid Of Me At Last" twirls William Seidel's throaty whine around similar-sounding slide guitar, and the snide "Notes To Our Leaders" rides a snappy tempo and a pretty melody past its pissy state-of-the-union lyrics. Decibully still has some identity issues to work out: Sing Out America's "Let's Eat Our Mistakes" sounds like Bright Eyes at its dirge-iest, and "Penny, Look Down" is a little too Good Life-y. But like Chesnutt in his prime, Decibully seems willing to ignore rigid folk-rock structures and go where the mood rises.