Roger Kynard “Roky” Erickson’s entire life has been like an extended episode of HBO’s Carnevale. Complete with an early life in a rather psychically jarring family setting through to his voluminous drugs intake in the 1960s, proto-garage rock history-making leading to eventual incarceration in a twisted, cuckoo’s nest-like mental institute Erickson is far beyond being lucky to be alive. His formative work with the 13th Floor Elevators has stood the test of time and represents itself admirably to this day. His solo career has been a mish-mash of official releases and questionable bootlegs, all equally varied in musical approach but always full of Roky’s frenzied, at times messianic, musings and even some blistering, spunky, Texas rock and roll. With True Love, Erickson is back in the game with a vengeance, and with the jaw-droppingly feral support of new kids Austin’s Okkervil River he can no longer be labeled a desperate casualty looking to make a feeble comeback for some quick cash. Track for track this album is a stunner. Opening and closing with the sound of Roky, on gloomy acoustic guitar from a recording he made while locked up it’s apparent that this is going to be an interesting listen. The Okkervils add much heft to what can only be termed devastatingly poignant lyrics courtesy of Roky, or whatever being inhabits him presently. He is still the saviour sage in his mind and yet in these troubled times of media and digital communication overload you can almost understand why, for a time, he kept multiple radios and televisions blazing at full volume in his living space. It drowned out the voices in his head and, it seems, the other heinous life crap that Erickson was unfortunately destined to have to filter for the rest of us for some ungodly reason. Roky’s former gauzy reality has cleared of late and his shattered soul lyrical bent has been upturned toward some hopefulness, albeit with an almost childlike bearing. It is within these lyrics that Roky’s personal truth is revealed. The larger meaning is there on tracks like “Good Bye Sweet Dreams,” “Forever” and the stunning “Please Judge.” Okkervil River has apparently been working live with Roky for a while and they have created a respectful and boundary-pushing din that is perfectly suited to Erickson’s troubled personality. Guitars feed back with tight control; strings sluice through lyrical passages and the addition of a brass section makes this a hearty listen that is at once disturbing yet optimistic. At nearly 63, Roky Erickson remains something of a musical and creative wonderment. His weird, disembodied howl reeks of past injustices wrought upon him yet there is a sparkling hopefulness even in his darkest passages. He has come through his demon-filled past to be perfectly in the here and now and with the able support of a group of respectful younger musicians it gives one pause and the sincere hope that this man can yet reach the heights of creative power that were stolen from him all those years ago. (Anti-, www.anti.com) Jeff Monk
Winnipeg music & culture since 1989