Sage Francis
Li(f)e
Rating: 3.0/5.0
Label: Anti-
While churning out timely mixtapes in his “Sick of” series and recording three additional studio albums over the last 10 years, Sage Francis kept his musical focus pretty narrow. He played the angry absurdist through it all – the mixtapes and studio recordings alike had much to complain about and everything seemed a little broken in Francis’ world. Though the messages are similar – if not the same – to the disgruntled anti-spiritual sermon he’s preached since the beginning, Sage clearly still wants people to listen to his fresh sets of eloquent complaints. He continually updates his rehashed messages with new packing – on Li(f)e, the production is intricate and organic; these are bluesy concoctions featuring the talents of Jason Lytle, Chris Walla, Yann Tiersen, members of Calexico and Red Red Meat (or the active Califone), and the late Mark Linkous. Few MCs could navigate all those ideas comfortably, but Li(f)e is still Francis’ show and he does an admirable job of bridging so many styles at once.
Li(f)e kicks off with Lytle’s “Little Houdini,” one of the more compelling tracks of Sage’s career, and it’s a seven-minute jailbreak story over wailing guitar and trembling organ. The story hits close to home and Sage’s flow recalls the tense simplicity he perfected on “Makeshift Patriot.” Fans of Calexico will hear that band’s influence on “Slow Man” if they get past the questionable vocal barbs like “I heard God is coming and she’s a screamer.” More importantly, the track is an example of Francis’ dexterity, playing burnt-out alt-rapper in the vein of Buck 65 or a twangy Brother Ali with backing that is way out in indie-rock left field.
But Sage will never be a household name because of his own wicked tongue, dodging party anthems and lighter fare in favor of questioning the core beliefs and day-to-day actions of his fellow Americans instead. He’s often unrivaled in that department, but could benefit by supplementing criticisms and concerns with solutions to the problems he’s made a career bitching about. On top of that, not every moment of Li(f)e is top-notch — the album drags a bit in the middle and Sage’s throaty growl often feels more appropriate next to Jel and Alias’ minimal beats than some of these twangy backdrops. That’s because Sage suffers from his usual tendency to come off like an angry professor on a hyper-literate rant — his argument is there (berating organized religion in this case) but it’s buried under wordy verses and obtuse metaphor. The more complicated the musical accompaniment, the more it tends to derail Francis’ carefully arranged phrasing.
But then Sage closes the album with two of the best tracks he’s ever recorded. “Love the Lie” focuses all of the album’s themes into a joyful take on life’s less-than-joyful happenings, with simple verse like “stay together for the kids” hammering his take on God, relationships and families; it’s a fitting homage to guest Mark Linkous’ own views of life’s difficulties and the music he used to express them. “The Best of Times” plows through Sage’s own experiences from childhood to middle age. It builds from a humble beginning – softly spoken verses about the loneliness of childhood – to a wash of instrumentation (courtesy of Yann Tiersen) in line with a grown man who has learned much and is still learning. The song’s structure recalls rock epics and genres where grand structures are typical; Sage Francis makes it seem all too natural to be rapping over the top. It’s not that his more personal writing is that much more interesting than the negative themes he likes to hammer home, but it does flatter the styles at play on Li(f)e that much more.
by Michael Merline
