When two musicians spend three decades playing together, weathering band breakups and life’s inevitable changes, something remarkable happens: they develop a musical telepathy that can’t be taught or rushed. Cody Carlyle and Travis Jordan, formerly of The Dry Season, have channeled the 30 years of collaboration into Until They Burn Me. Their second album, “A Carnival of Reveries,” is a testament to what happens when patience, darkness, and raw talent converge.
“A Carnival of Reveries” is gritty and dirty with a vintage sound and streetwise soul. It’s a cinematic soundtrack to which one might astral travel, conjure ghosts, and, if not careful, lose one’s mind. From voodoo-tinged New Orleans grooves to tribal conjurings and circus madness from a bygone era, this album is an evocative journey through murder ballads, dark poetry, and infectious melodies. The album cover mixes Day of the Dead iconography with Christian imagery, a collision of the sacred and profane that mirrors the music that lies within. Let’s dive into this carnival and see what reveries await.
“Dark & Deep” opens the album with a raw tribute to the spirit of Blind Willie Johnson. The swing on the rhythm section is remarkable, and there’s immense soul in all the instrumental performances. This isn’t mere homage; it’s a genuine attempt to capture that gritty passion and unique texture that made the blues masters essential. The song succeeds by not trying to replicate but rather channeling that same energy through Until They Burn Me‘s own lens.
“To The Bone” shifts gears into something resembling a fairy tale, though one told by someone who’s seen a few too many dark nights. The theme here revolves around time’s relentless march and the notion that every dog has his day. It’s easy to feel like our best days are behind us, but this track urges a shift in perception: our best days are always in front of us if we choose them to be. There’s a wisdom in this sentiment that avoids becoming preachy.
“Licorice & Lollipops” has been waiting over 30 years to be properly recorded, and it’s clear why Carlyle and Jordan held onto it for so long. Filled with texture and a slightly creepy sense of unease, the song offers a cynical perspective on serious issues. The rhythm of the main riff recalls Steve Vai’s work, though the folk-like storytelling vocals remain distinctly Until They Burn Me. The harmony shifts to a more dreamy texture as the lyrics offer reassurance about heaven and universal love, but then we snap back to the main riff. The dichotomy between these sections makes the song’s theme increasingly clear, and the lines begin to blur as the ominous voice from the heavy section bleeds into the dreamy one.
“Dig Them Graves” was written in about two hours, recorded and mixed in two days, and added to the album at the last minute. Its simple structure and classic form become compelling through dark texture and ominously unsettling lyrics that express the almost detached mindset of the killing machine of war. The instrumental “Night Passage of Painted Dog” follows, inspired by a particular brief scene in a movie. It serves as a theme for a wild dog making its journey across the desert and through the foothills on a sacred passage only he understands. The feel is driving, dark, and tribal, marking a tonal shift in the album toward a much darker and cinematic atmosphere.
“Revealed to Him in the Wild” expresses the hunger for and receiving of enlightenment regarding life’s big questions. Both the lyrics and the feel serve up a reminder for humility in the face of the vastness of our physical world and beyond. Musically, it continues the drama and darkness of the previous song with an almost post-rock kind of groove and clean, spacey guitars. It’s contemplative without being pretentious.
“White Devil” tells the story of a dark past, a willing hand, and an equally dark inevitability. The reference to keeping secrets and keeping words alludes to conspiracy and shadow-hidden sins, while the music carries an almost ironically upbeat groove. That contrast is delicious, taking us back to the bluesy foundations while maintaining the album’s noir sensibilities.
“The Golden Motel Room” is a dark, almost noir song where a detective provides narration with a gruff voice reminiscent of James McCaffrey’s Max Payne. It goes through a whole layered mystery with the music working as pure atmosphere. This is cinematic storytelling at its finest, proving that Until They Burn Me aren’t just musicians but scene-setters and world-builders.
“Josef K” has been around for nearly 30 years in one iteration or another, and it took that long for Carlyle and Jordan to finally find the form it was always meant to take. Evocative lyrics spill out across a wild, circus-like landscape carefully crafted and explosively executed. It’s one of the album’s standouts, providing a great energetic circus ending to the record that feels both celebratory and slightly unhinged in the best possible way.
“A Carnival of Reveries” is the perfect album in which to get lost. Until They Burn Me has created something that honors the past without being chained to it, something that embraces darkness without wallowing in it. This is folk-punk, blues-rock, and gypsy-jazz filtered through three decades of friendship and collaboration. It’s proof that sometimes the best things really are worth waiting for, and that when two musicians understand each other this well, they can conjure something truly special. Welcome to the carnival. Try not to lose your mind.
