After the expansive 2003 album Feast Of Wire and an impressive presence on Neko Case’s Blacklisted the year before that, Calexico apparently decided this was no time to rest. It’s a good thing, too; although the Convict Pool EP features just six songs and clocks in at just over 20 minutes, it roils with enough nerve to fill a lesser band’s back catalog.
Singer-guitarist Joey Burns and drummer John Convertino continue to explore the enormous mesa that stretches across the Southwest — from the U.S. to Mexico, from the dust and heat of reality to the breeze and possibility of dreams. However, the opener, an intricate mariachi take on Love’s “Alone Again Or” that features Nicolai Dunger’s fine duet vocal, signals Calexico’s increasing ambition.
This growth doesn’t merely spring from the covers, although bordertown performances of Francoiz Breut’s “Si Tu Disais” and the Minutemen’s “Corona” cast further afield than the geography mapped out by Tex-Mex horns and flamenco guitar. The originals indicate development, too. The title track holds the music to Convertino’s rolling-thunderstorm rhythms and Burns’ folk strumming, but it makes a sound as big, open and ultimately downcast as the prisoner’s tale it tells. And the waltzing “Praskovia” darkens the atmosphere as much as anything Nick Cave or Tom Waits has ever done.
Convict Pool demonstrates how far Calexico has traveled from the likelihood that it would forever make soundtracks for imaginary Sergio Leone films. Burns and Convertino have other ideas, and they’re implementing them with force and agility.
