Rocco DeLuca and the Burden
Mercy
(Ironworks/Universal Republic)
First Appeared in The Music Box, November 2009, Volume 16, #11
Written by John Metzger
Fri November 6, 2009, 06:30 AM CST
Daniel Lanois takes a lot of heat for his heavy-handed production techniques. Even so, it’s difficult to dispute his track record. From U2’s The Joshua Tree and Bob Dylan’s Time Out of Mind to Emmylou Harris’ Wrecking Ball and Willie Nelson’s Teatro, he has left an indelible mark upon the music industry by helping to turn an array of recording sessions into a seemingly never-ending stream of classic albums. Given his credentials, Lanois adds heft to any project with which he is associated, and his presence on Mercy, the sophomore set from Rocco DeLuca and the Burden, is meant to parlay Kiefer Sutherland’s celebrity endorsement of the band into something with greater durability. The gambit works, too, perhaps better than anyone might have anticipated.
Surprisingly, Mercy doesn’t feel as if it has been enveloped by Lanois’ customarily atmospheric arrangements. This, however, isn’t because Lanois avoided applying his usual tricks to DeLuca’s compositions. After all, cinematic moments, such as the introduction to Bright Lights (Losing Control), are situated next to winding blues grooves (Any Man) and incursions into gospel-soul terrain (When You Learn to Sing). These, of course, are the cornerstones of many of the projects on which he works. At the same time, this also isn’t because DeLuca sat alongside Lanois in the producer’s seat. Too much of Lanois’ presence is felt in the nooks and crannies of the music to believe that he didn’t play a key role in guiding Mercy to fruition.
Instead, Lanois and DeLuca approached Mercy from the same perspective, apparently discovering that they share nearly identical artistic visions. Working like a single-minded entity, they blurred the lines between producer and performer, seamlessly integrating everything into a cohesive whole. As it turns out, Lanois’ approach is a perfect match for DeLuca’s moody material.
For the most part, DeLuca’s songs, musically and lyrically, revolve around the realms conquered by Radiohead, Jeff Buckley, and Led Zeppelin. At this stage of his career, the only real difference that DeLuca makes to this formula is to add the steely, groaning presence of his dobro to the mix. Nevertheless, he has refined his style, and although he hasn’t yet found his own distinctive identity, it’s clear that he is getting close.
On his debut I Trust You to Kill Me, DeLuca demonstrated that he indeed has a flair for creating dramatic tension. Often, however, his compositions fell short of reaching their potential. With Mercy, DeLuca raises the stakes considerably. Although he still comes across as too desperate in his bid to be taken seriously — DeLuca’s need to be considered an artiste serves as his primary motivation — the endeavor ultimately proves itself to be too compelling to ignore.
On its surface, Mercy is soft, understated, and devastatingly
beautiful. At its core, however, there lies a raging firestorm of emotional
turbulence. Mercy gains its power from the way in which DeLuca juxtaposes
these ideas. I Trust You to Kill Me — the title track that was absent
from Mercy’s predecessor — features sharp, quick stabs of guitar that
poke pinprick holes into the fabric of the song’s heart of darkness. Elsewhere,
Save Yourself detonates in the middle of the album, and its explosive
charge consumes DeLuca, releasing his pain. As Mercy draws toward its
conclusion, he follows the harrowing Junky Valentine with the key track
that ties everything together. Bathed in the redemptive light of When You
Learn to Sing, DeLuca discovers the impetus for his creative awakening. 
½
Of Further Interest...
Antony and the Johnsons - The Crying Light
Jeff Buckley - Grace around the World (CD/DVD Set)
Mercy is available from Barnes & Noble.
To order, Click Here!
Ratings
1 Star: Pitiful
2 Stars: Listenable
3 Stars: Respectable
4 Stars: Excellent
5 Stars: Can't Live Without It!!
Copyright © 2009 The Music Box