Bonnie ‘Prince’ Billy and the Cairo Gang - The Wonder Show of the World

Will Oldham leaves a long line of collaborators in his wake. Matt Sweeney, David Pajo, Tortoise, Dawn McCarthy of Faun Fables, his brother, Marquis de Tren. He picks them well and then casts them aside. Now it’s the turn of Emmett Kelly and Shahzad Ismaily of the Cairo Gang. Though at least Oldham rewards loyalty - Kelly and Ismaily are longer term collaborators than the others, having appeared on previous albums Lie Down in the Light and The Letting Go. More Brother Rides indeed. 

It is often these collaborations that make for the more interesting Oldham albums. It allows him to be challenged and try something different. Long gone are the lo-fi Palace days of old where where songs were recorded in front rooms and Oldham was noticeably drunk. Instead there is proficient playing and in-tune vocals, and often the guitar solos and three part harmonies which prove a delight. 

But the truth is that the last few Bonnie Prince long players have left this listener a little tried. There was a time when you were surprised by Oldham’s output. His first three records under the Bonnie monikor were three completely different albums. Whether it was the sheer depression and black humour of I See A Darkness, the more jolly Ease Down the Road or the strong emotional pull of Master and Everyone, each record surprised. And even when he covered his old Palace songs with Nashville musicians, they really did work as radio friendly hits complete with soaring choruses and tone heavy slide guitar solos. 

However his last three records have been notable for there complete lack of surprise. Each has its slow vocals of love and loss building to a soaring chorus and unfortunately, this record is little different. 

Sure, there are some great moments here – who else would be able to write a song’s pay-off as “the smell of your box on my moustache” and totally pull it off. The opener 'Troublesome Houses' and the closer 'Kids' are highlights and 'That’s What Our Love Is' (of box on moustache fame) has a real tender soul to it. There’s the signature voice of the lonesome Kentucky warrior but the highlights are sparser than usual Oldham albums and rarely is there much that demands that you keep listening. 

Perhaps, this assessment is a little harsh and this album is more like Superwolf (Oldham’s collaboration with Matt Sweeney), which was very much a persistent grower. In fact Ragged Words is starting to like it more as we round off this review. Better wrap this up then before we change our minds...