Published on Oct 8, 2003
Back in the early 70’s, Rod Stewart told us that every picture
tells a story. In 2003, Donnie Hamby and the doubleDrive crew
reiterate that concept through images of self-reflection on the
cover of
Blue in the Face.
For a band that toed the line and impressively held their own in
the late 90s supporting the likes of Megadeth and Queensryche on
their U.S. tours while promoting their debut album,
1000 Yard Stare, it’s hard to believe that Hamby and his
bandmates have been put in such a cerebral position today. During
the
1000 Yard Stare days, doubleDrive were the fused answer to
the dying, depressed grunge movement and the more aggressive metal
scene. By taking a more upbeat approach to their sound from what
the Pearl Jams of the world were offering, the Atlanta-based
quartet came off sounding like a largely reincarnated version of
the Stone Temple Pilots back from their Core days. But alas, their
label, MCA, (aka the Music Cemetary Association) bungled their
promotional responsibilities by taking an inept pulse of the rock
scene and walked away from the band.
Fast forward to 2003, four years after their debut album was
released, and it’s easy to see why the band seems so tentative. The
kicked-puppy treatment that MCA harshly administered gave the band
plenty of time to deliberate their approach on
Blue in the Face.
Unfortunately,
Blue in the Face fails to build off of the fused vibe I’ve
mentioned, as the album largely downshifts into a polished effort
that destroys the niche they attained for themselves on their first
album. Effectively vanilla-ized, the tracks “Million People,”
“Evenout,” “The Hand” and “Big Shove” frustratingly negate the
calculated energy of songs like “Hollowbody” and “I Don’t Care,”
the pair that nimbly form the backbone of
Blue in the Face.
Interestingly, the first single from
Blue in the Face, “Imprint,” serves as a spiritualized
tearjerker when one considers that Hamby wrote the song with a
terminally ill Orlando program director at WJR radio, Dick Sheetz.
Sheetz first broke the band to radio, enabling his listeners to
make a big enough stink in requesting the song “Tatooed Bruise”
that the major labels had to take notice, resulting in the band
signing with MCA. With a chorus that simply states, “One step, I
make an imprint; two steps, it’s commitment” followed by lines that
state that Hamby has “gotta tell tell you what I feel, although
your tank is running low,” Hamby has never vocalized better.
Relegated to performing in largely B and C city markets these
days after such a long layoff, one can only hope that Roadrunner
gives doubleDrive their promotional due. While I have intimated
that doubleDrive have fallen back into the pack of a legion of
similar-sounding rock bands in today’s world, I’m not prepared to
fully discount the imprint that
Blue in the Face will leave on the band’s legacy. Hamby is
as strong a lyricist and vocalist as is performing these days,
which counts for a lot, especially considering that the songs I
have pointed out as weaknesses on this album are the ones for which
he didn’t write the music.