Twas a wise man who said, “Cocaine is a helluva drug.” TJ Kong and the Atomic Bomb sound like they can attest to that. Their latest record, Manufacturing Joy, appears heavily influenced by the Philosopher James. It’s a testament to drug-fueled benders, whiskey-fueled bar crawls, and the heavy blues that accompany the mornings after. With the boot-stomping energy of a square dance veering out of control and vocals that recall the cigarette-weary drawl of Swans’ Michael Gira, the group has created a singular sound they’ve come to call “post-apocalypse blues.”
A weighty label to wear to be sure, but damn if it isn’t fitting; Kong and the A-Bomb’s brand of the blues isn’t spooky per se, but it carries an unsettlingly sinister undertone. On “10 Minutes,” vocalist Dan Bruskewicz sings, “I got my eyes on your bathroom window… I got just one reason to keep you around” in a devilish minor key while the drums pound just a little too angrily to just keep time. At some point in Manufacturing Joy’s universe, the liars, drunks and road-walkin’ bluesmen took over, and the resulting depravity is too enticing to not indulge.
Because at the center of Manufacturing Joy is the wild, reckless spirit of the blues, all the songs run at a tempo too infectious not to bop to, and all are decked with key blues-signifiers: finger-picking wizardry, hot harmonica solos, lyrics about criminals and cheatin’ dames. Manufacturing Joy is a fitting title not only because the record is littered with intoxicants and party drugs, but because the music itself is too peppy to ignore. One can imagine the joy that the band manufactures live simply by bringing the good times to their audiences. Picture them in a bar, energizing a stony crowd into a frenzy with the introduction to “Rock N’ Roll Club Bathroom Cocaine Blues.” Then there’s “Sweet Lorraine” striking a special chord with a guy five beers deep into forgetting his ex for a couple hours. If all bluesmen are storytellers, then Manufacturing Joy is TJ Kong and the Atomic Bomb’s story of survival. For in these post-apocalypse blues, there’s a party still a-ragin’. – Adam Downer