KELLEY DEAL 6000
Go To The Sugar Altar
Nice/Shock

SHE'S always exuded a lonesome air and substance abuse vulnerability. She plucks and strums till her heart is content. And there's definitely a little girl lost fragility in their somewhere. Her music makes you think of lonely bedsits and empty syringes or rehabilitation clinics where damaged people desperately cling on to the remanents of life and survival.

And then you've got sister Kim who manages to hang it all together seemingly much more than Kelley Deal was ever able to ... People have always compared the Daytona sisters - Kim for her reckless rebellion and Kelley for her narcotic addictions.

There's no doubt that Kelley Deal has the punkish and destructive sniff of a Courtney Love about her but when you hear her album Go To The Sugar Altar there's something else that becomes increasingly apparent about this self-abusive child of the indie spirit, and that's that she's hooked big time on sparse, country and western ballads, corrosive polka dot punk and schmalzy odes that reek of loneliness.

And for that reason alone this is an album that is destined to occupy a special place in my record collection. It's hot. It's claustrophobic. It's sweaty. It's trashy and a reason for Kelley Deal to continue to fight her heroin addiction and to continue to keep making gems such as this.

Crushed red velvet. That's the sensation and sensory feel of Deal's latest tome. Recorded after her one month stay at the Hazleden Clinic in Minnesota, Deal, drummer Nick Hook, bassist Marty Nedich, guitarist Steve Salett it is testament to chemistry, personality and musicians who reek of rawness.

Opening with a slice of the poppy Canyon which is based on Deal's observations of a girl she met at Hazledon who was addicted to crack. It has a tinge of calypso brass and tip-toes amid crunchy guitar riffs. How About Here is an arid, Hawaiian country & western typical Deal polka-dot strut. Dammit is pure angelicism, street and vulnerability revved up with slices of acerbic riffs.

Sugar has a sniff of K.D. Lang in her Even Cowgirls Get The Blues phase. It's laid back and lush with Deal's sultry vocals hovering between a kitsch Loretta Lynn and butter-wouldn't-melt-in-her-mouth barrage. A Hundred Tires notches up the tempo in a sweaty, moshpit ambience. Guitars and feedback rings as the pace quickens. Head Of The Cult is Deal lyrically kicking up the dirt as celestial atmospheric harmonies swirl around her.

Nice is roadhouse bar-room blues with Polynesian cowboys in stetson hats and Deal purging sensuality through a distortion pedal flashing "Nice black eyes like a doll's eyes swingers, mellow swingers eat a peach" she oozes ... Trixie Delicious grinds to the clap of hands and a Flamenco staccato. This is Deal at her pinnacle. Hot, lonesome and looking for trouble.

Marooned returns to sparser pastures and the humming of distant chords while the child-like Tick Tock is pure nursery rhyme meets Sergeant Peppers. You can see Deal marching along in a tin-soldiers uniform with a rebellious look in her eyes. The closing track sees Deal straddle Mr Goodnight as he strums his guitar.

Go To The Sugar Altar won't be to everyone's taste. But if you're a fan of Kelley Deal - and there again, even if you're not - I urge you to check this one out. It's a rare and vulnerable gem.

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