Lyrics are a tricky business. I remember when I first started listening to music that it was of great important to analyze every single song on each album that I bought. Just what exactly was the sex-type 'thing' Mr. Weiland talked about so passionately on Core? Please, Billy, enlighten me as to the identity of those secret destroyers you warned us about in "Bullet with Butterfly Wings"?
But the more and more I slid to 'indie' music, the less and less I cared about lyrics, and the more I came to accept singing as just another instrument. Maybe it was the realization that the lyrics most artists — mainstream or indie — sing are nonsensical, stupid, or both. Call it the Sigur Ros effect, but I seem to have reached a point where I only listen to music for the sound. Thankfully, there are artists like The Gunshy around to remind me that such a single-minded approach can cause one to completely miss one of the most moving parts of music.
The Gunshy is Matt Arbogast. I believe every review I have ever read about The Gunshy mentions the similarities of his vocals to Tom Waits. So why break a trend. Matt sounds like Tom Waits. What this actually means is that Matt has a deep voice. However, that's about as similar as they get. Matt's voice isn't the 'weird, passionate, crazy man' of Waits. Instead, Matt sounds like a guy who smokes 10 packs a day (the number of references to cigarettes in his lyrics does support this as fact) and is straining to make his emotions heard through the smoke. A nicotine-tinged, soulful voice [I will admit there are probably just as many references to Matt's voice and tobacco, but at least this is more accurate…].
Souls finds Matt and his guitar with a more extensive backing band than on his past albums. In addition to the standard bass/drum backing, the songs on Souls find prominent use of trumpet, violin, and other instrumental flourishes. The music does an excellent job of complimenting Matt's singing/songwriting instead of overwhelming it. "Call Me Home" finds the music following Matt's vocals, building, receding, and bursting along with his voice. Even at the music's most ambitious moment, on the album's title song, as the music dramatically builds to a blast of horns-strings-upright bass-drums-guitar (whew!), one's primary attention is on Matt's tale of finding self-respect and meaning in making music, and his final, triumphant proclamation of ‘You can make a home/Without losing your soul.’
While the music in Souls does a nice job setting the scene, it is Matt's lyrics that draw the listener into the album. At least partially autobiographical (there are a number of references to Matt's recent move to Chicago), the lyrics strike a balance between setting up the story and allowing the listener to fill in the details. Matt writes his lyrics story -style, sketching scenes of self-doubt, failure, and regret about women and/or making music.
As depressing as the songs get on Souls, silver linings do appear, and one is never overwhelmed with failure and self-pity. The girl may be lost in "Last Songs", but the wandering musician finds that his true love is his music. When the narrator is left by his woman companion in "$4 Pabst", he humorously justifies the fact he will be forgotten by her in the context of Spielberg creating a movie about her life: ‘In Spielberg's adaptation of her life/They'll cut my scenes, but I won’t mind/They never fit the storyline.’ And Matt may be dead in "Let There Be No Mournful Tears", but he takes solace in the fact that maybe Chris [from Troubled Hubble], Darren [from The Show is the Rainbow], or Andrew [Bryant] will write a song about their experiences touring with him in support of The Gunshy's previous album, No Man's Blues.
The majority of the music and Matt's voice may point to defeat but it is these moments of humor and small battles won that makes Souls and the stories it tells engaging and, ultimately uplifting.