He was kind of creepy, standing there at the
entrance. His face was pale white, ghostly. In his hand he held a noose, which
he casually flung over his shoulder as an eager photographer catches his fire
lit grin. He turns to me, strikes an overtly sexual pose and in a slow southern
drawl says: “You wanna hang out later?”
Behind him stands a giant of a man; Ken Bull of
the Bone Collectors raises a flaming a machete and extinguishes the flame with
his mouth. I have arrived at the cirque
macabre. The long awaited launch of Cape Town’s self proclaimed assassins of
pop’s album “Black Love”.
If you are unfamiliar with the unholy groovy
voodoo that the Bone Collectors cast I would suggest righting this situation
immediately by buying this masterpiece of an album. Recorded in the lair of Mr
Cat and The Jackal’s home studio, Fresh Meat, the album delivers a unique blend
of bluesy intrigue and outright boogey in such a manner that you have to put it
on repeat over and over and over again to fully understand the beauty of the
production. From the soulful ballad “No Stranger to the Truth” right through to
the title track “Black Love” with its bouncing beat and catchy chorus this
album truly delivers a mature listening experience that is set a part from the
raw and manic energy of the Bone Collectors live performance.
