Gargoyle

A hugely enjoyable whole. After a fortnight's heavy rotation, it has yet to reveal its fatal flaw. [May 2017, p.89]

A soundtrack that hits with the force of a well-timed punch and soothes like the ministrations of a doomed romantic poet. [No. 142, p.56]

Gargoyle is yet another fantastic album from Mark Lanegan, and one that points to a new path.

His irrepressible, grizzled vocal is the master key to the soul that is often kept hidden behind the pewter façade, and it’s the desire for more glimpses into it is what makes Gargoyle as affecting as it is.

This is an album that sounds of box-fresh offerings foma shop-worn veteran in which everything about it suits him well. [6 May 2017, p.52]

The songs, hard and soft, fast and slow, seem better than ever. Lanegan may sound like he’s done everything there is to do, but he’s clearly not done pushing into new territories and getting better.

Bleak or bleakly funny, Lanegan is in the form of his career.

Great vocals are a bit of a given here. The real treat is in discovering just how eclectic Gargoyle has turned out to be.

On first glance, Gargoyle doesn't feel like an album full of surprises, but after the second or third spin, the fuller and bolder sound of the arrangements and production becomes clear, and it all serves Lanegan's talents in a way his last few Mark Lanegan Band albums have not.

Gargoyle is as confident and assured as anything Lanegan has released. It stands up alongside his best work and pushes his method in a few new directions, without trying to break from the paradigm.

Gargoyle kicks massive ass; here are ten songs you won’t be able to hear enough. Just about essential.

Lanegan is on daring and seductive form throughout. The Passenger-lite Emperor misfires but that’s forgivable with a strike rate this high.

Gargoyle takes the electronic bedrock of its 2014 predecessor Phantom Radio and kicks it up a notch. [Jun 2017, p.109]

[A] darkly compelling new album. [May 2017, p.24]

A wealth of arresting images sprinkled throughout another excellent album.

Mark Lanegan makes blues for our time, chopping up sonic tropes, stretching them over handcarved laments, wrenching them from his throat and bleeding badly all over them.

Marshall’s electronic, krautrock-ish backing tracks extended what Lanegan had previously laid down on previous albums Blues Funeral and Phantom Radio. Gargoyle however has more of an early 1980s UK electronic rock feel, with Lanegan’s rough vocal rasp sawing through musical timbres reminiscent of what was being played out at Manchester’s Factory. [May 2017, p.47]

As an album, it must be said, Gargoyle never truly coalesces. The distance between the bright, ethereal shoegaze sound and Lanegan’s dirty, earthbound voice is just too great to be reconciled (although 'Nocturne' does come incredibly close). But just because two compounds don’t mix doesn't mean they can't form something beautiful together.

Gargoyle marks another solid addition to an extensive catalog.

Lanegan all too often prevents the audience from seeing the artist that lives behind his dour exterior. Gargoyle is most engaging when it invites glimpses, however fleeting.