Everyone tends to wonder what their teachers do “in real life”, with the idea of them having any form of existence outside classroom walls usually considered laughable and/or horrific. Well, if you’re studying in Trinity’s Department of Drama, you may recognize Associate Professor Matthew Causey as the main man behind bluesy rockers Tujacques, whose début album ‘The Art of Living’ was released in July. If discovering your professor’s penchant for snake-skin boots, “jumping juke joints” and “nurses who dance to Total Eclipse” seems too much, you should probably look away now.
Joined here by musicians from 3epkano and Si Schroeder, Texas-born Causey has gathered a strong line-up to serve up a tasty slice of Americana. Raiding the vaults of Southern blues, country and gospel music for inspiration, ‘The Art of Living’ remains loyal to its roots but still manages to shake things up a little. Evoking images of salacious saloon bars and dusty highways with every note, there’s a catching attitude and sense of fun here and, while it’s not necessarily the best album you’re going to hear this year, it’s probably the only one which will leave you reaching for a Stetson by the end.
A rowdy, almost raucous energy runs through a lot of the songs. Wayfaring Stranger and Naked Brain are wild, heavy, growling tracks, with raw guitars and crashing drums ripping through the paces. Bourbon and Coke continues this on, as bold and excessive as its title suggests, with a freewheeling saxophone in the background only adding to the sense of frenzy. It’s a style and a sound that works well, although at times, it can feel like the vocals don’t carry the power and full force the tracks really need.
Other songs take on a darker twist. Radiation, charged with reverb, Causey’s haunted vocals and a simple but ominous riff, actually feels quite sinister, while Henry David Thoreau takes that up another notch. Opening with a restrained, menacing guitar and slow, troubled vocals, it lures you into its drugged, unsettled story before a loaded, thrilling sound crashes in completely unexpectedly, quickly establishing this as the album highlight.
Given what’s gone before, the quieter moments are surprisingly rich and delicate: seductive sax whirls around the subtle guitar-work and soft percussion. There’s an air of Neil Young in his ‘Harvest Moon’ phase about songs like Wicked Wind, The Highway Back and Last Man Standing, while the album’s title track is one of the most straightforward, and revealing on here: its simple construction allows a lot to be said.
Musically, all the elements which make up ‘The Art of Living’ have been heard before and, lyrically, there is a healthy amount of whiskey-joint, road-trip cliché wrapped up in the songs. It’s an escapist’s album, whisking you away to the mysteries of the Deep South: it’s probably not one that’s going to stay with you forever, but it’s one that’s always going to be fun while it lasts.