The Gunshy : There’s No Love In This War

War becomes personal and profound, as Matt Arbogast turns his grandfather's old letters from the front into 'There's No Love In This War'....
7.6 Latest Flame
2007 

The Gunshy : There's No Love In This WarWar becomes personal and profound, as Matt Arbogast turns his grandfather’s old letters from the front into There’s No Love In This War. As The Gunshy, the Chicago singer/songwriter has been compiling intimate barroom alt-folk for a few years now, but with his latest release, each track takes its inspiration from a letter his grandfather Paul Arbogast wrote to his grandmother, while serving in Europe during World War II.  With a Tom Waits-like raspy warble, Matt brings out the old Arbogast soul, as real as the day those letters were written.

Opener “May 14, 1943, The Khaki-Wacky Girls” perfectly sets the stage with its driving, growing power, but most of the record is split between sad, slow numbers and rollicking little ditties.  The flowing “December 26, 1943, Humphrey Bogart & His Lady” captures the wistful nature of diversions during wartime, while the serious “September 6, 1945, ‘Til My Belly Hangs Over My Belt” is heartbreaking in its desire for a return to a peaceful life.  And special mention must be made of “August 13, 1943, Eddie Was a Good Friend of Mine”; the elegy to the departed buddy, who took his own life rather than keep his girl in constant worry, feels so close you believe he’d been Matt’s own comrade.

Things aren’t as deep with the up-tempo pieces on In This War, but they carry you along just the same.  “August 27, 1943, A Fortunate Man” and “September 30, 1945, A Soldier’s Blues” are winning shanties, employing accordion and horns, respectively, yet don’t feel out of place when they follow sad tracks (“Eddie” and “Belly”, respectively).  And “March 7, 1945, There’s No Love In This War” is a great alt-country road song, wry in its upbeat and perfect as the record’s title track/anthem.

Some commentary on war does come out, such as with “June 11, 1945, Pretty in the Red & White Dress” and especially “September 5, 1945, The Armchair Advisors”.  But the clearest viewpoint is from “November 12, 1944”, wherein Matt Arbogast simply reads aloud one of his grandfather’s letters.  It’s an interesting and enlightening mix of professions of love towards Julia, the girl Paul met only the year before he left, and banal recitations of the little things about war.  And the letter also includes a description of female collaborators, who shared beds with Germans, now getting their head shaved in punishment; Paul only tells of it in response to Julia asking, and shows little in the way of anger or resentment towards the now-bareheaded women.

Despite containing seventeen tracks, In This War never feels too full, though at times Matt Arbogast does come off as a little preening.  This is mostly when he strips his sound down too far, such as with “October 28, 1943, Jule, I’m Not Ready To Die” and finisher “October 11, 1945, Tell Them That I Said Hello”; he doesn’t quite have the gravitas to pull those numbers off.  And the straightforward “June 1, 1944, Instruments of Modern Man” just plays a little boring.

But overall, There’s No Love In This War is an impressive accomplishment.  Matt Arbogast channels his grandfather, and the war he served in, completely.  The record stands as a testament not just to the awful nature of war, but to heart and soul of those who have to fight in it.

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