Jesse Malin - The Fine Art Of Self Destruction (20th Anniversary Edition) (2023)

With the invigoration of New York punk surging through the grime-lined veins of urbanised country rock, Jesse Malin's debut album The Fine Art Of Self Destruction is not only dirty, hard-bitten and restless but blessed with a bona fide autobiographical clarity. How else could the toughened-up Simon and Garfunkel style "Riding on the Subway" with it's stroboscopic glimpses of pretzel sellers, buskers, spray-paint gospel and three-card monty seem so effortlessly real? How could the repressed, moping angst of "Solitaire" or the music biz caution of "High Lonesome" ("through your brand new shades you might not see the sharks") ring so true? Boredom, delinquency, escapism Malin bites to the core of life, loves and regrets in the Big Apple's concrete jungle, carrying all the emotional axe-grinding baggage of an imaginary, seriously pissed-off younger Bruce Springteen. "Fine Art" is so self-assured and fully-realised there really is no need to covet interest-by-proxy in drawing attention to the fact that the album was produced by Ryan Adams (who also guests on guitar).