The difficulty with transitioning from a band to a solo spot is that people will make pre-judgments before actually listening to the music. It is with that in mind that I caution those who try out King’s X drummer Jerry Gaskill’s debut solo disc, Come Somewhere to go in without assumptions. If you do that, you’re going to enjoy.
Why do I feel the need to start the review like this? Well, if you think this is going to be like a King’s X release, you’ll be thrown by how much acoustic tuneage is present… And if you think that because it is a debut, the songs are going to be fluffy and feel-good, or just one continuous angry bulldozer, wrong again. This is in fact a pretty personal collection of songs. Sounds great, sometimes hard and rockin’, but check the lyrics again. There are some topics inside that are more than universal, and Gaskill’s voice, capable of striking harmonies as well as a naked starkness not unlike Roger McGuinn’s, takes you through the gamut.
It is at those songs, when it is Gaskill and guitar, with minimal backup, that one sees the blues aspect of the disc. These are not “tra-la-la in love” songs, but a dead reckoning of relationships, not just with lovers but friends and family, laid out without clutter. It’s as if he’s saying, “Here’s all the stuff. You make of it what you will.” For instance, the melancholy “Faulty Start” is a beautiful example of both Gaskill’s unguarded vocal approach and, in the chorus, the layered harmonies. In it, the woman of affection points to the singer as the problem in the relationship: “She tells me I’m the reason that all the perfect seasons can’t find places in her heart… We must go on”.
“L.A. Flight”, a rather short song with a strong hook that will stay in mind long after the disc is done. “Johnny’s Song” was co-written by Gaskill’s brother, Herb and centers around a father and his children and, while it is apparent he loves them, he’s just not the 9 to 5, stay-at-home type. There’s a twinge of regret about the life going on without him. This is not your typical hard-rock grist and that’s the crucial point: you’re getting pretty deep into the writer’s life and sometimes it’s uncomfortable, perhaps a little dark, to be so deep in these strange shoes…
Another aspect that I appreciated was the even-handedness about the argument. Many music writers have to work through tons of songs before they get to a common ground on “You. Me, Us Both”. Gaskill’s lyrics sometimes sharply assign blame, but he takes a lot of it on himself too. There’s a level of maturity involved that casual listeners may not appreciate, but should. Recorded at Ty Tabor’s Alien Beans Studio, the disc is sonically populated solely by Gaskill and Tabor, who handled the bulk of the electric guitars and keyboards. Being with such a confidant allowed a degree of control over the material that I think an outside producer wouldn’t have afforded them.
If there is a sticking point for me, it is the closing song “Face The Day”. First off, it seemed out of place, too sharp a contrast to the rest of the disc. Secondly, it strives to end the disc on an exclamation point rather than what felt like a natural ellipse moment. I wanted to be assured that this story was “…to be continued”. It is when Gaskill needs to stress his points the most that the disc works the least and why I can’t go for that full-fledged fourth star. Regardless, those who are willing to go farther than face value in their music appreciation will find a lot to like about Come Somewhere; It is a brave collection to debut with and piques the interest for many solo ventures to come.
