Pitchfork

There's been a wide spectrum of response to certain contentious actions of our current presidential administration: retirement into cynical apathy, zealous support of insurgent candidates, public disobedience/intricate placard design, sexual dysfunction induced by mention of the slang term "bush." Protest energy is especially apparent in the artistic world, the denizens of which are able to channel their anger through their chosen medium. Music is particularly under the gun, so to speak, in troubled times; with the oft-quoted (but rather weakly supported) claim that republican presidents lead to fertile underground scenes, the pressure is on those in the independent sphere.

Sam Coomes, conductor of the duo Quasi, has apparently taken this challenge to heart as he navigates his band through a mid-career change-of-direction. Frustrated with the present and worried about the future, Coomes has taken solace in the music of the past, allowing the blues influences that drove his recent solo project, The Blues Goblins, to seep into Quasi's sound as well. Trading in his demented organ sound for more slide riffs than the "Layla" coda, Coomes makes an interesting attempt to address global issues through one of the most personal of genres.

Of course, he's also taken the curious step of starting to look like a NASCAR fan on the run in an episode of Cops-- not to mention saddling his new album with what might be the worst title and cover art imaginable. Such dissonance between goofy aesthetic packaging and serious-minded content throws a dash of doubt upon Coomes' motives in adopting Southern musical style, branding it with that air of condescension that's so hard to avoid for a modern, white artist trying to avoid coming off like Dan Aykroyd.

Musically, however, Hot Shit is a furlong beyond the hollow Depression-era recreation of The Blues Goblins, merging Delta tricks into recognizable remnants of the Quasi sound. "Good Times" starts off with a wailing gospel choir and trashcan percussion alongside cracked harmonies with drummer Janet Weiss, the sole appearance by the good old fuzzy Rocksichord, and a touch of the orchestral sound flirted with on 2001's The Sword of God. "Good Time Rock N' Roll" and "White Devil's Dream" offset rockabilly riffs and harmonica blows with a strange cacophony and Weiss' thick beatings, while Coomes lets his voice (now with less monotone!) fly on the usual dark-tinted lyrics.

Whether these changes are an improvement, however, is another matter entirely. Stricken by the same backward-looking guitar worship disease that seems to have struck many in the indie community, the relentless string-bending and beer-bottle slides can't help but sound like stale recidivism. Songs that find Coomes back in front of keys sound better: the piano-driven clamor-jazz tune "Drunken Tears" is a symphonic adaptation of the duo at their most effective, circa Featuring "Birds", and "No One" is a pretty moan scored by gloomy fake strings.

Yet, the one slice of blues-inflected tuneship that works, "Master & Dog", also serves as the thematic high point of the album: a simple political cartoon as potent a venomous animal metaphor as their classic "The Happy Prole". Coomes' sloganeering elsewhere lays it a bit heavy with the hand, though-- most notably on the bridge to "White Devil's Dream", where administration members are listed by name and given a cursory "fuck you." Not exactly "Masters of War", champ.

Still, one can't deny Coomes' passion on the topic, nor would I want to suggest censure of his political views. But it's nevertheless unfortunate that Quasi have chosen an archaic sound with limited relevance in today's world (bring on the electro anti-war anthems!), not to mention one that doesn't exactly play to the band's strengths. So as spottily effective as their contribution to the political frustration derby may seem, the Quasi Blues Odyssey-- not quite the wax museum of Coomes' Blues Goblins side project-- is even less so. Though I've got to commend Coomes for attempting to branch out, I can't help but feel like there must have been a more intriguing direction.