Review by Josh Felty
Rating: Listen!
One of the greatest things about following a music group's career is listening to how they grow from one album to the next. Some, sadly, don't really progress past their initial "schtick"; others, typically ones with amazing first records, follow up with something called the "sophomore slump". Either they were trying to grow too much or head off on a wild tangent, therefore alienating their fans and more than likely the record company also. But really, who can blame such acts? They're honestly wanting to release something that's, well...honest.
Villebillies' follow-up release to their debut self-titled album is in no danger of suffering such a fate. If anything, From the Belly of the Beast is a progression toward an even more fabled and textured sound. Let's put it this way, and I mean this wholeheartedly: if From the Belly is a sign of this group's future, it's gonna be lined in gold. And it should be no surprise why this release sounds even more freewheelin' and whiskey-slingin' than their first: they don't have a huge record company behind the boards, tinkering with this and fingering with that. Not that Ezrin and Wright didn't help craft a stellar collection of songs (see my other Villebillies review), it's that there's more freedom in their second release. So much so, it's palpable.
There's more influences and stylings at work here. Some blues-tinged songs fused with a pinch of funk, a dash of jazz, and a whole lot of attitude. It's great fun picking out what instruments are thrown in the mix, aside from a more prominent rhythm section. The darkness seeps out of songs like "Flask and a Gun" and "Stranger", filled with back alley musings and weed-smoking anecdotes. "Stranger" is quite impressive with what sounds like one of those eery, classic horror movie organs meandering along with a smooth hip-hop beat. "One Shot", an ode to that swig of whiskey sure to kick things in gear, bounces with a rockabilly-fueled guitar riff that will not only have you banging your head, but may find you in the middle of a mosh pit. The haunting opening harmony on "These Days" reflects "It shouldn't be so hard...to get along these days...maybe we're change our minds...why do we act this way?", positing the world to wake up and each individual to work their hardest to inspire others. Acoustic guitars, banjos, and what sounds like a Hammond organ round out the final two tracks, which include spirituality ("Preacher") and death by alcohol ("Bar Room"), deepening the simultaneously dark and optimistic parallels of this stunning collection.
I recommend From the Belly of the Beast for many reasons, including the fact that it swings for the fences and doesn't look back. They're also from my home state of Kentucky, which gives me some rights to gush at least a little, right? But seriously, also because this album is just plain, old-fashioned fun; the way rock 'n roll used to be. What you have, and perhaps this is due to the nature of hip-hop lyricism, is a smorgasbord of thematic social commentary and adventurous optimism smashed up against a dank, dirty brick wall lined with rusty barbed wire. I know that's quite a euphemism to grasp onto (believe me though, it was fun to write), but it works for this record. I don't know how else to describe it--go now, grab this, and play it! There's so much at play with this band, a slew of harrowing (yet consistently audacious) catapults with which to exact their own brand of rock/hip-hop/funk/everything else aural ecstasy upon an unaware audience, the world at large, and the universe beyond.