Poetry has long been a vector of change utilized by the disaffected. Crafted to propagate everything from revolution to chlamydia, its appeal and its effectiveness are anchored in its use of language, meter and context. Cobbler’s, “This Is A Good Place To Kiss”, scores a hat trick here, producing a timely piece of work that asks the same two questions over and over again: “How did things get so fucked up?”, and, “What should we do now?”
A heavy-hitting and eclectic roster of wordsmiths go full nelson trying to pin these queries down. From John McClure’s opener, waxing philosophic on the stylized chancre sores that mobile phones have become while dot matrix printers drop Epson-styled beats in the back, to Blake Everitt’s closing warm-cold-warm ode to The Snarling Dogs of England, Cobbler puts together a solid 52 minutes of atmospheric rhetoric and beats reminiscent of early offerings from Bill Laswell and company. Crisp production and tasteful tone architecture combine to create something rare indeed; A spoken word album that you will actually put in your rotation.
Don’t get me wrong, there’s a lot of depressing material in here. John Osborne’s visit to the oncologist will leave you hoping he returns post-haste to the alcohol aisle for something more joyous than chemo. A couple tracks wear out their welcome two minutes in, but insist on going twice as long. Ms. Abram spends too much time in Gram’s corner. And I’m sorry, but only Emmylou gets to do that.
All in all, Cobbler has created something that truly feels 2020-2021. Unsettled, dark, anxious, and perhaps coming undone at the seams. Falling, but not fallen, and unsure as to where and how it’s all going to land.
Mud Creek, CO