Ten Kens’ self-titled debut plays like the soundtrack to a road movie, set in the fifties but made today, with an expansive sound that demands the most open of highways. But the distinctly ominous undertones are more Louisiana than Texas, which fits the ‘gothic Americana’ work of post-graduate film student Dean Tzenes, one-half of this Hamilton, Ontario duo.
Ten Kens is a strong combination of a low-key-but-driving core, and a more expansive, eyes-widening, overlay of sound. Throughout the album, elements of post-grunge and roady alt-blues magnetize with heartfelt alienation.
Ten Kens certainly opens on a portentous note, with the clear, low whisper (“Long after I’m gone, you’ll hear me, sense me. I’m the backdrop for all you do.”) "The Alternate Biker" has a horror tone not unlike The Raveonettes, but with less of a garage rock guitar. The following "Downcome Home" pushes the sound farther, into a more encompassing, almost gospel, reach, and this growing spread culminates with "Refined," a dark cry that could fill the great outdoors.
After possibly the best track on the album, "Y’all Come Back Now" is a pleasant blues-rock riff, but mostly just filler, there to give the listener a chance to shift gears and moods before "Bearfight!" Matching or exceeding "Refined" in scope, "Bearfight!" is much brighter, almost an anthem, more on lines of the sound of the recent Canadian indie upheaval. Unfortunately the next track, "Cosby Pills," is not nearly as powerful as it is trying to be.
"Prodigal Sums" brings a clearer tone, returning to the strong blues/gospel feel of this album, though less with horror than ennui. The driving sound behind Ten Kens gets its best presentation in ‘Worthless and Oversimplified Ideas,’ which practically explodes off the album. However, "A Decision of Especial Relevance" is just too driving, an unvaried and uninteresting stomp.
"The Whore of Revelation (Or How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love Jesus)" is also unvaried, but it is strong enough to blow right on past, and brings back some of the gothic feel of the lead off tracks. The debut ends on a high note with the low notes of the haunting "I Really Hope You Get to Retire," a seemingly mournful coda for all that is left in this journey’s wake.
While its weaker tracks read like Queens of the Stone Age with more distortion and less bass, at its best, Ten Kens is similar to Black Rebel Motorcycle Club’s Howl, making their way down the most forgotten road in America, in a land that might be empty but sure is alive.
