Illegal Foreign Object

By the time Candlebox released its self-titled debut in 1993, the Northwest roar of a world-altering musical movement had been reduced to little more than a wounded whimper. Record labels, Hollywood, media, and newly flannel-clad listeners alike were shoulder-deep into a wolf-like feast on the naiveté of a group of artists who felt things entirely too intensely, leaving behind a pile of carcasses that were swept away less than a year later when Kurt Cobain ate a shotgun, signalling an end of the innocence.

Still, Madonna wanted a “grunge” band for her Maverick label, and Candlebox offered the perfect combination of zip code marketability and pop-sensible music-making to earn a deal. Four massive hit singles later, the band had platinum plaques on the walls and money in the bank. Then, it was time to release another album.

Cut to 30 years later because much of the time between 1993 and today is a time I don’t care to ponder, at least where Candlebox is concerned. Multiple lineup changes, stylistic shifts, and inconsistency resulted in an absolute disconnect between my ears and the band’s songs. Oh, I listened to everything singer Kevin Martin (the only remaining original member) and Co. released — I just didn’t like much of it.

Until four days ago, that is.

One of my best friends is visiting from the States. Since neither of us had been to Puerto Viejo in over two decades, we decided to make the drive and put our toes in the sand for a few days. Nothing much has changed about that place — the food is still good, the sand is still sandy, and people remain a patchwork of burnouts, dreamers, hide-and-seekers, and wannabe Marleys.

After a long morning walk to start our first day in town, I stumbled across Candlebox’s newest (and final, if the news of the band calling it quits after its current tour proves true) offering, The Long Goodbye. Figuring it was something I could halfway run through while I grabbed a shower, I queued it up and got down to the business of scrubbing the beach off my sun-fried skin. Then, “Punks”, the first single off the album, grabbed me by the balls and wouldn’t let go. It was catchy, raucous, and, dare I say good. “What Do You Need” followed — it too affixed itself to my by-then-pristine balls. It’s a fuckin’ stomper of a song with a big-ass sing-a-long chorus.

“Elegante” kept the big, catchy, pop chorus train a-rollin’, while “I Should Be Happy” gave me Lucy-era vibes, only listenable. “Nails On A Chalkboard” floored me. The song oozes with swagger, with Martin’s well-worn vocals howling and country croaking out a tale of heartbreak and deception. The isolated piano track on “Nails On A Chalkboard” is one of the most gutwrenching parts the band has ever released.

By the halfway mark of “Maze”, I was so enthralled, confused, and thrilled by what I heard that a wave of nervous energy washed over me. Unsure of what to do, I did the first thing that came to me: I threw a leg on the sink and monkeyed with myself furiously.

No, I didn’t, but allow that horrifying visual soak in nice and deep.

Keep thinking about it.

Just a little bit more…

Okay, we’re good.

Seriously though, “Maze” still has me messed up. I can’t believe how good it is. I don’t want to lean too hard into my disappointment for most of the band’s output since its debut album, but The Long Goodbye leaves me thoroughly confused. How can it possibly be this fucking great? On “Maze”, Kevin Martin has delivered what is, perhaps, the finest, most heartfelt vocal performance of his career. I’m aware I’m saying this about the same guy who sang “Far Behind” and “Cover Me”, but there’s zero hyperbole here: it’s that amazing.

Look, my inability to go along for much of the band’s ride aside, credit Kevin Martin for keeping Candlebox on the tracks for 30 years. I can’t help but wonder if being lumped in with that whole Seattle Sound thing didn’t lead to a few creative missteps along the way. The “grunge” label that was so-beloved by the record label marketing machines never fit the band — Candlebox was much more closely aligned soundwise with bands Live and Collective Soul than Soundgarden or Alice In Chains.

I saw Candlebox play live maybe a dozen years ago, and they sounded fantastic. That most of what I heard between 1993 and four days ago failed to resonate with me is of little importance — the band has had a long, impressive run while entertaining millions of people. The Long Goodbye, if it truly is goodbye, is a helluva farewell.

Tracklist:

1. Punks 8/10
2. What Do You Need 8/10
3. Elegante 8/10
4. I Should Be Happy 7/10
5. Nails On A Chalkboard 9/10
6. Ugly 7/10
7. Maze 10/10
8. Cellphone Jesus 6/10
9. Foxy 5/10
10. Hourglass 7/10

Grade: 75