One benefit of being a Neil Young acolyte is that you can be a follower and still head off in so many different directions. In general terms, Red Star Belgrade is Bill Curry’s Ragged Glory band — the one in which he lets the horses get a little crazy — whereas his now-defunct side project the Uncrowned Nashville Kings was more of a Tonight’s The Night wasted-cowboy outfit. (By the way, the frequent Yo La Tengo and Eleventh Dream Day comparisons are more matrimonial than musical; Red Star Belgrade’s drummer and harmony singer is Graham Harris-Curry.)
This album is a series of wounds — old, new, and occasionally gaping — that even time can’t seem to heal. Maybe vitriol, but not time. On “Mercy”, Curry continues to curse a departed tormentor with “I’m wishing the worst that hell can give”, spraying the most graveside venom since Elvis Costello dreamed of tramping the dirt down. The relative pinprick of loss felt when a celebrity dies is explored in “John Candy’s Lament”, while both “Sour Juice” and “Lord’s Prayer” put on display the giant hole left when a loved one is lost.
A song with the self-descriptive title “Age of Regret” offers the album’s best and most telling line: “Life is kind of mean, but not without its charms.” Something similar could be said about this album and its chief architect. You wouldn’t think of calling either cheery, but both are well worth spending some time with.
