Sometimes I wonder if they will let me into Hell when I get there. Maybe, given the current state of the human race, I will have to book well in advance to guarantee entry or maybe the big man on the door just won’t like the look of unrequited anticipation in my eyes. Would it really matter anyway as everyone knows that there are no angels in Hell.
But would you find Jaye Bartell in Hell? Probably not although I imagine a few sound engineers might want him sent there by first class mail given his laconic and almost unnaturally naturalistic vocal style. In his favour, however, is his ability to squeeze both irony and humanity into the words of his songs and that alone would get him into Heaven just so he could jam with Lee Hazelwood.
Angel Olsen is pretty much a reviewer’s dream and anyone who can sell out a Monday night in Glasgow and who can hold an audience enraptured start to finish has to be doing the Lord’s work. Don’t get me wrong. Angel Olsen is a serious musician and she has a band that could easily find work in Nashville such is their precision but none of that would mean anything if she did not have the kind of songs that impact your consciousness. Angel Olsen has so many of those songs that divine intervention becomes the only rational explanation and, hard of heart as I normally am, there was no other logical course of action than to worship her.
Some velvet morning I will tell her just that.