Ayron Jones delivers blockbusting, heartbreaking, beautiful, and bluesy rock ‘n’ roll on Chronicles Of The Kid (Big Machine/John Varvatos Records). “I came for the title,” he sings. “I got a word to my rivals.” The verdict? If it’s a matter of survival, this kid’s still standing.
‘Strawman’ is a strutting, swaggering, Bon Jovi/Guns N’ Roses-style rocker that opens up things in kit-pounding, gut-punching style. ‘Blood In The Water’ (Attica?) brings the drama, brings the heatmosphere, brings it all to the table – “I say a prayer for my mother, I cry a tear for my father … let the Lord be my witness” – while the philosophically intense ‘Otherside’ – “Are you dying to live, or living to die, when you meet your maker, is your head held high?” – has an irresistible r ‘n’ b vibe. Why do these songs sound like they’re from a movie? Because they are epic, widescreen, telling a story, and indelible images.
‘Living For The Fall’ is a superior power ballad, boasting a fine, fine drumming display and a ripe, resplendent guitar that grabs you by the throat and keeps seeking answers just as it grants you breath. “For you, I’d give it all …” Seattle guitarist, singer, and songwriter Ayron puts everything on the line, and what more can one ask? But still, there’s more to come.
The expected geetar solos are present and correct, properly and suitably concise (having said that, the ‘Otherside’s extended, dramatic histrionics have to be heard to be quite believed), but any listener will surely walk away from Chronicles pondering a testament of soul and commitment, rather than recommending a showcase for virtuoso performance (although you get that, too). Some lyrics are built on cliches – “dance with the devil”, “cross to bear”, “pray for forgiveness”, “cradle to grave”, “everybody got a bridge they burn” (that’s actually quite good!), etc – but there is potent and sharply distinctive storytelling here.
Many, many, disparate and dogged artists have attempted to bring the true essence of the blues bang up to date, but not too many have achieved so modern a sound while defiantly keeping one foot in the authentic, raw, primordial swamp, the fantastical font that gave life to the pre-recorded “real thing”. Read Jones’ bio and learn all you can about his background, if that’s your bag, but listening to the music will probably be enough to convince he has emerged from that same pool of Muddy Waters, baptised, certified, revolutionised. You can hear the gospel in his voice, sela.
This honest, heartfelt Chronicles, this Kid, at its best, takes that pure essence and evolves into the epic, hip-hoppy ‘The Title’ – a statement of intent, full of guts and balls and balls and guts and balls and sheer determination – or the riffy, crunchy, cathartic and climactic ‘On Two Feet I Stand’, and the almost countrified, Springsteen-y ‘The Sky Is Crying’ (Jackson Browne? Jackson BLACK – with all due respect to all parties concerned).
My beloved, grey-haired uncle, who recently passed away, had a photo of me, when I was very young, a picture he showed to everyone, all the young nurses, a picture I used to hate (way back when I look … ridiculous. I look ridiculous now!). Then I heard celebrated Welsh actor Anthony Hopkins, in his 1980s, tell the chat show story of how he keeps on his phone a photo of himself as a little boy, a “little, confused kid … as we all were.” AS WE ALL WERE -(“Just a child of a ruthless man,” Ayron declares). Sir Hopkins looks at the picture today and says to himself: “We did OK, kid.” Some might believe that’s easy for Tony to say, and easy for me to say, sitting here on my privileged white ass. But I assure you, I do not have my troubles to seek, and I feel better about it having heard Chronicles Of The Kid.
“I won’t bow down to any king.” This is a remarkable record. He came for the title? On this form, at this moment in time, who could stand in Ayron Jones’ way?
Buy the album here:
9 / 10
CALLUM REID