Gerald Collier – Breakin’ Down
Long overdue is Breakin’ Down, Gerald Collier’s first solo effort since his 1999 EP Low Tar Taste and his first full-length since his self-titled major-label rise-and-fall a year earlier. But Collier hardly misses a beat. Stark and muscular, Breakin’ Down mines the same downtrodden country-rock as its immediate predecessor, if with better execution and the bonus of considerable input from pedal steel aficionado Bruce Kaphan (American Music Club).
At its best, Breakin’ Down does what all Collier albums have done — showcase his stellar voice (think Lennon meets ’90s angst) and his chronically acerbic outlook. There’s no shortage of snapshots from life at the frayed ends. Witness the album’s first verse, with Collier pondering: “I was up thinking to myself last night/How much better I’d be if I’d have shot her on sight/How much warmer I’d be between my sheets/With the blood of a body washed all over me.” One song later, Collier pines: “I’ll show you a real good time, understand/I got all the charm of a bloodbath.”
But at some juncture the instrumentation begins to feel unimaginative and the glum sentiments somewhat anesthetized. At the beginning of the album, Collier exhibits a loneliness that “makes you want to lay down and die.” By the midpoint, it’s: “I’m breakin’ down, and it’s killing me.” Gotcha. And then there’s a new recording of “Long Distance Nashville” — sure, it’s a great song, one of his best actually, and there’s no gripe in getting to hear it again. But after all these years, you’d hope Collier had a few more new tricks up his sleeve.