Album Review: Graveyard - Fever

This year marks the fifteenth anniversary of "Hisingen Blues", which was the first time Graveyard came to my attention. My colleague here had raved about the album, which led me to listen to find out what I was missing. That initial experience with Graveyard was one I was not ready for, as their vintage blues-soaked version of rock was not something my ears were attuned to. That changed the next year, when I was handed the assignment of reviewing "Lights Out", and everything unlocked for me. I called Graveyard a time machine for those of us who weren't alive during the reign of classic rock, and I have stood by that as the band has released now six albums that put them at the upper echelon of 'modern' rock bands.

That being said, I would be lying if I didn't say there was some truth to the idea that your first experience with a band will always echo within you. While the last three albums have been very good, and earned plenty of plaudits here, the first three are still the ones I keep going back to. There was something special about that period that feels electric when the records play, and that raw feeling is what Graveyard was attempting to recapture on "Fever". Hallelujah?

"Back From The Grave" opens with lo-fi guitar fuzz, and a stomping riff that sets a Sabbath-like tone, complete with a slightly sinister set of notes ending the phrase. Joakim roars his vocals, and the guitar solo bends notes to an uncomfortable relation to the key, all of which makes this the kind of heaviness "Peace" was attempting but didn't quite hit. Graveyard hasn't been flat-out heavy like this very often, usually keeping their aggression to shorter bursts, but this slower wallop right off the bat is a mission statement that is music to my ears.

Graveyard's greatest strength has always been their embrace of simplicity, which allows them to build songs that form hypnotic grooves like "A Better Cut (Note To Self)", and turn the focus into a haze where we can see the forest, but not the trees. Metaphorically, that is. What their approach to songwriting and recording does is form a sound where the whole is more than the sum of the parts. A few fuzzy chords and a slightly distorted vocal turn into the kind of music that defies musicologists attempts to explain everything through theory. Graveyard is about the feeling of getting lost in time, where these thirty-eight minutes can fly by like when you become distracted and realize the clock has advanced further than you expected. These songs return them to that reality, narrowing the ebb and flow so their torrent more easily carves its way into our brains.

The first five songs hit hard, rarely slowing down for Graveyard's usual penchant for somber reflection. The outro of "Year Of The Horse" pulls back a bit, but the band isn't interested in playing with dynamics this time around. "6" was a record that focused on that aesthetic, while "Fever" is the mirror image. Together, they form a bit of a double album in that way. Interlacing them like a deck of cards would be an interesting journey to take, but perhaps I'm overly focused on mood swings at the moment, so the idea appeals to me more than most.

When "Time To Tell" finally does slow things down, the guitars are still bristling with the electricity of amps pushed to the edge, which removes the forlorn mourning of much of Graveyard's balladic writing. That turns the song less into a lament, and more into a statement of simmering power, while the backing vocals that pop in for a brief call-and-response can be heard almost as the devil on your shoulder. It's not quite a return to "The Siren" and its ilk, but Graveyard is hitting hard even when playing soft.

While "Hisingen Blues" is the landmark album, it's actually the debut that "Fever" pulls more from. The prickly production is right out of that playbook, so too the more manic sounding playing. "Hisingen Blues" had a bit more polish and restraint, while this is Graveyard doing nothing to massage the rawness of their performances. When we have talked about Graveyard here, I have been the staunch defender of that debut album, going so far as to say there are days it is my favorite. That makes "Fever" an album directed squarely at me, which is something that hasn't happened in recent years with many of the bands I love.

"Fever" is Graveyard sounding like quintessential Graveyard, and reminding us that the experimentation of the last few records was not because they lost their way. They were finding what they were capable of, fully aware of the way back home. "Fever" might have a hard time competing with fifteen years of listening, love, and memories, but it's exactly what I wanted to hear from Graveyard.