Califone — All My Friends Are Funeral Singers

For years, Tim Rutilli has been created dissonant blues-drenched experimental post-rock, first as the leader of Red Red Meat, then initially alone as Califone. What started as solo experimentation has evolved into a Chicago-based musical collective involving the majority of RRM members in a sort of Red Red Meat v2.0.

While it may seem far-fetched to compare RRM's sophomore album, Jimmywine Majestic, to this, Califone's first album in three years, there is a Rutilli stamp on anything with which he's involved.

After a couple of quieter Califone releases, Rutilli seems to have reached back to his RRM days for inspiration. Rutilli's menacing vocal growl has returned to great effect on All My Friends Are Funeral Singers. Songs like "1928" and "Funeral Singers" just shimmer out of the speakers, the latter mixing the stark minimalism of the steel guitar and banjo with some vintage Rutilli grunt.

All My Friends Are Funeral Singers also features a fusion of acoustic instruments (like the violin on "Buñuel") with some tasteful electronics, merging the musical output of European contemporaries, The Notwist with early Son Volt. In fact, there's a whole lot of other contemporary music in Califone's new material, a touch of Bon Iver, a dash of latter-day Radiohead among others... all of which could be found in previous Rutilli material.

The latter part of the album is Red Red Meat unplugged, as "Salt" is a tip of the hat to Robert Johnson and the Delta blues and while "Evidence" is a ballad that feels like an alternate, more mellow, RRM Bunny Gets Paid track.