Aural Fixations
MARK SANDMAN
Sandbox: Mark Sandman Original Music
(Hi-N-Dry/Kufala)
The shocking and sudden death of Boston musician Mark Sandman left a huge hole as yet unfilled by any other artist. Sandman's trio Morphine carved out a distinct niche in rock & roll, filled with desperate characters, noir melodies and a unique sax/drums/slide bass sound the trio dubbed "low rock." While it's good that no one has tried to copy the band's sound (not even the surviving musicians' new group Twinemen attempts that), there's still a gap in the firmament of rock that once held a shining, if tarnished, star.
So what better way to satisfy the itch for something like Sandman and Morphine than new music from Sandman himself? The prolific songwriter and multi-instrumentalist recorded constantly, and if Sandbox: Mark Sandman Original Music is any indication, nearly everything he tracked is worth hearing. This two-disk set, compiled by his Morphine bandmates Billy Conway and Dana Colley, features 31 songs taken from the unheard catalogs of Morphine, Sandman's underrated pre-Morphine band Treat Her Right and his backlog of home solo recordings. The first disk is dedicated mainly to unreleased Morphine tracks. The sardonic "I Can Do That," creepy "Cocoon," groovy "Wig" and throbbing "Goddess" are classic slices of Morphine pie, while the stark piano 'n' sax ballad "Devil's Boots," beauteous "Patience" and almost shockingly poppy "Tomorrow" are some of the most delightfully accessible tracks the trio ever cut. It's a headscratcher as to why these tunes were never released during the band's lifetime, since they're every bit as good as anything on the main records. Ditto the Treat Her Right songs on disk two—the muddy blues and sleazy rock of "Mona's Sister," "Hombre," "Doreen" and "Some Other Dog" highlight just what an effective combination Sandman's slate-gray vocals and Jim Thompsonesque visions and Jim Fitting's industrial-strength harmonica were. If there are more cuts like these in the vaults, they just beg for a Treat Her Right retrospective of unreleased material.
For fans, though, the thing that truly places this collection on the mountain top is the inclusion of several of Sandman's solo tracks. Most of his non-Morphine, non-THR work has never seen the light of day, outside of the odd track sneaking out on a 45. Sandman's unofficial work is, as you might expect, less mindful of professional expectations than the music for which he is most known. The country lilt of "Let's Not Talk," the melancholy folk/pop of "Bathtub," the Morphine strut of "They Bent Me" (minus Colley's distinctive sax) and the fractured blues of "I Wanna Go Home" aren't truly radical departures for anyone listening closely to his prior work. As experimental as the crime narrative "The Middle East" (no doubt a tribute to the club of the same name) is, it still sounds just like something Sandman would do. But the jazz/funk dub of "Livin With U" and pumping electrofunk of "Deep Six" come as a surprise, and the echoed overdubs of "The Phone"—please, god, let that have been his actual answering machine message—reveals a playful side never fully explored on Morphine or THR records. This less serious work may not be as stirring as his band creations, but it's still great stuff.
Most posthumous, vault-plundering compilations excavate a few gems and a lot of dross of interest only to diehards. Sandbox, however, is that rare beast that stands just as proudly tall as anything officially released during the artist's active years. If you're a Mark Sandman, Morphine or Treat Her Right fan, you'll love this. If you're not, after hearing Sandbox, you will be. Michael Toland [buy it]
