Alejandro Escovedo,
The Boxing Mirror



Label: Back Porch Records

(5 out of 5)

Alejandro Escovedo returns from an all-too-near-death experience in the only way to be expected: with his subversively life-affirming The Boxing Mirror, a collection of songs more (challengingly) positive than anything he's released in, well, perhaps ever.

Having retreated from the haunts of Austin's 24-hour-party people to the more salubrious Texas Hill Country, and having cut back on his admirable but absurdly self-destructive touring schedule, the now rejuvenated Escovedo hit the studio with a longtime hero at the boards and a tested band of friends by his side. The result: arguably the best album of 2006 thus far.

Escovedo needs no critic to declare his greatness — a cursory listen to any of his solo and many of his group efforts provides affirmation aplenty. Nonetheless, he remains (and will probably always remain) trapped between critical darling-hood and relative popular anonymity. Publications from Rolling Stone to No Depression herald him as a rock and roll poet on par with Springsteen and Young; yet outside of his (ahem) diminutive fan base, his biggest claim to fame might be opening the Sex Pistols' last ever gig as a member of San Francisco punkers The Nuns.

With Velvet Underground alum and producer par excellence John Cale walking him through new aural territory, Escovedo has gifted us with an eclectic document, which from the eerie opening notes of the art-school slow rocker "Arizona" (listen) through the garage raunchiness of the bonus "Take Your Place" (listen) hangs magically together, despite its incredible sonic diversity.

Yes, The Boxing Mirror owes much to top-rank guitar work from David Pulkingham and John "c'mon Dee" (listen) Graham; it is similarly indebted to some super-sharp string arrangements. But it's Cale's influence on Escovedo and the latter's poetry and better-than-ever delivery that elevate a collection of "merely" great songs into a masterpiece.

So while he bares his soul to the hypnotic strings that frame "Arizona," embraces the pain of "knowing" to the 80s dance beat of "Dear Head on the Wall" (listen), and (begrudgingly) comes to terms with the imbalance and impermanence of being while under attack from a wailing industrial guitar solo on "Notes on Air" (listen), it's not simply the spectacularly crafted songs and first-rate musicianship that pierce the listener's consciousness, but the perfectly incongruous juxtaposition of each track against every other.

Almost everything to do with this disc is how it should be: the lyrics and music are sublime; the production, "just so." The only tragedy here is that, in the same way Escovedo has never become the household name he should be, The Boxing Mirror will unlikely find the huge audience it deserves. Ever the fighter, always the realist, he seems to recognize as much in the title track: "As he took a jab / I saw the Good Son / At the underground Hall of Fame."

Reviewed by Adam Black
June 4, 2006