American Catastrophe

American Catastrophe's six-song debut, Excerpts From the Broken Bone Choir, is like the testimony of a brooding, dangerous Lord Byron of the post-apocalyptic American West. Singer Shaun Hamontree is an almost perfect synthesis of Tom Waits and Nick Cave — he has Cave's range, clarity, murderous thump and fascination with death; plus he has Waits' ability to lure the listener to spooky, backwoods locales, barking and huffing warnings and threats. And unlike many gravel-throated growlers, Hamontree sounds like a man, not a Muppet. There's nothing phony about the group's instrumental chemistry, either. It's stripped down and dry, with just hollow-body-guitar crunch, bullet mikes and churning grooves setting the murderous mood — no cellos, samples or scrap-metal percussion needed. At times, the band's sound seems divided between the congruous guitars of Hamontree and sideman Terrence Moore (the two have been playing together for more than a decade) and the less fluent rhythm section (Amy Farrand on bass and backup vox and Eric Bessenbacher on drums), which often bogs down in its own low-end mud (especially Farrand's bass). Also, the group is all about the moan, employing some form of prolonged, baleful vocal double-teaming between Hamontree and Farrand on every track but the instrumental closer. Still, the record is an accomplishment. If any other band attempted what this one's doing, the result would be mediocre goth-schlock. But in American Catastrophe's arm-crushing grasp, this work is honest, original and dead sexy. — Jason Harper