Album Review: The Weeks - Dear Bo Jackson

As we’ve discussed before, most notably in our SXSW coverage, The Weeks are a band to watch for. There is much to say about this raucous group of four and their extremely talented surrogate keyboardist Alex Collier who has taken a full forward position on their latest album Dear Bo Jackson. The latest effort by these Mississippi renegades hits hard and in all the right places.

Together they are a force – two-part twin, three-part might as well be family, a hurricane of talent bleeds throughout these musicians. A midnight masquerade of self-awareness and the keen sensibility to take just what is necessary in order to let the rest breath, The Weeks know how to write, and play, and make music for their generation of midnight riders.

The album effort is polished; full not only of The Weeks’ southern roots but also inclusive of soul, country, folk, pop and R&B tonalities. As one of Nashville’s most notable emerging bands, they have now produced a record that is polished, refined and organized. The arrangements in Dear Bo Jackson are expansive and full, layered with backup vocals, a complex blending of keys, pedal steel and horns.

Second track “Brother in the Night” is a force. As mighty as the Mississippi mud they wail about, the track is as close to a signature song that can define a young band at the early stage of their career. It is the type of track that uses the line, “I’m wanted for the murder of a man I’ve never seen” and takes belligerent names through choral pursuits of strings and vocals.

Lead vocalist Cyle Barnes lyrically professes his southern heart. Independently, the lyrics act as an avid identifier of the bands heritage – “King Sized Death Bed” and “Ain’t My Stop” describe the honky-tonk, ready to rumble sensibility of Deep South ideology. “Bad Enough” rides the wave of a twangy-country ballad that is reminiscent of songs from their debut album.

And of course, Dear Bo Jackson gets heavy. We are, after all, talking about the band that thrashes and wails during live performances – whose fans break the floor with their relentless bouncing and crowd surfing, fling beers on stage and know the lyrics better than the Mississippi boys themselves. When “White Ash,” “Thief in My Mouth” and “Harlots Bluff” takes off in a live setting with their gracious guitar riffs, stripped percussions and triumphant energy, it will be exciting to hear. These five young people have overturned normality and chosen to make damn good music – music that is fitting and music that will last.