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TYLA J. PALLAS
Devil’s Supper (Electric Sitting)


King Outlaw (2013)
Rating: 8/10

Tyla is the once mercurial frontman of sleazy, drunken Brit rockers Dogs D’Amour, who once said, and rightly so, that Rod Stewart was a bigger punk than most of the artists claiming to be punk. And it’s only natural that Rod Stewart – certainly circa the Faces – is a big inspiration in that distinctive rough, sandpaper voice of Tyla J. Pallas.

I’ve always been bemused as to how certain American bands can sell a shed load of records despite mimicking the boozy British rock ’n’ roll sound, and yet when one of our bands does the same thing they are met with frowns.

Dogs D’Amour were a rough ’n’ ready bunch of rock ’n’ rollers who enjoyed measured success in the late 80s but, alongside The Quireboys, their brand of booze ’n’ roll was clearly lost on the Americans who preferred the seemingly plastic swagger of The Black Crowes.

Anyhow, Dogs D’Amour and their frontman have marched on through the decades, with Devil’s Supper (Electric Sitting) being the umpteenth solo outing for Tyla, coming just a year after 2012’s Tyla Presents… A Graveyard Of Empty Bottles MMXII.

As expected, Devil’s Supper is an earthy, grass roots sort of album, one which, as usual, is wrenched from Tyla’s black and battered heart and full of blood, sweat and emotion. Certainly the sound of Tyla would be an acquired taste and those of you not knowing of Tyla or expecting a heavy metal album will be majorly disappointed, but if, like me, you’re after a slab that oozes soul then this record is far more rewarding than that bird you met at the bar last night in a drunken haze.

Devil’s Supper kicks off with the superb ‘Love Is’, a warm, honky tonk groove that staggers into the saloon on a woozy piano and Rolling Stones-ish guitar. But where it really shines is with those hearty horns which are injected halfway through, and of course Tyla’s characteristic drool. It’s a fantastically unassuming song of soul and homely joy, and a track that immediately embeds itself into the brain, before we’re treated to the boogie of ‘Long Shadows’ with its pattering drum and gentle swagger.

Of course, Tyla often struggles with any hint of a high note, but that’s the charm of that broken throat, especially with the smoky steps of ‘It Ain’t Over Yet’ and the shimmering wonder of ‘Green Eyed Girl’, with its pleasant sways as Tyla croons, “Back in the summer of ’75 when I first saw you my heart came alive, standing there in the bright moonlight I got what they meant about love at first sight”. It’s another instant mini-classic that evokes images of rainy streets and old pubs filled with cigarette smoke as the horns drift in on that indolent chorus.

Bizarrely, with four tracks immediately hooking themselves in, I was fully expecting Devil’s Supper to lose itself, but it never does. Tyla’s unique style is not merely the only quality that enables this album to roll. The moods are defined by simple yet provocative instruments such as a simple keyboard, piano, or a jangly guitar, making tracks such as ‘All Alone’ or the twanging ‘Judas Christ’ so sincere.

Tyla clearly has no need to shake a bottle in your face, when it’s far easier to sit down next to him and share his thoughts over a glass of warm red wine. The 14 tracks on offer here (15 if you count the demo of ‘Judas Christ’) are so epic in stature and yet rarely do they breath beyond an acoustic ramble.

The Rolling Stones-ish ‘The Meaning Of Fortune And Fame’ with its ‘Gimme Shelter’ riff is a shuffling joy, whereas the rough ’n’ roll ramble of ‘Yeah (I Love You Baby)’ is a bluesy jig in ode to the myth of the woman; those who’ve burnt down houses, broken guitars and trashed cars, but you still can’t resist.

But of all the heartfelt tracks on offer it’s the tear-jerking ballad ‘Ode To Jackie Leven’ that really tugs at the heart strings, as Tyla’s voice deepens over a swaying acoustic. Leven was a Scottish folk singer who died in 2011 and Tyla’s ode is majestic with its wheezing pipes.

Tyla’s 23rd solo album (including demo releases etc) is a moving yet unassuming record that for me cements him in folklore as one of Britain’s most criminally underrated songwriters. Anyone who calls themselves a rock ’n’ roll fan should own at least one of Tyla’s wholehearted platters, so why not make it this one.

Neil Arnold

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