Timmy Vulgar cuts a striking humanoid figure, somewhat bulbous and disproportioned, festooned with charms and scraps of fabric that at this point register as growths more than accessories. That’s because, since at least the early 2000s, the Detroit bandleader has made no concessions to the whims of contemporary rock ‘n’ roll, fashion or otherwise.
He epitomizes a tendency of garage revivalism that some purists pine for today—heard wonderfully on this year’s Snooty Garbagemen full-length—with a procession of acts that to the devoted ring as hallowed names: Clone Defekts, Human Eye, and most recently Timmy’s Organism. On Heartless Heathen, his allegiances remain: lowbrow, blistering, occasionally poignant, and committed to the potential of a lean rock trio.
Raw Sewage Roq, the last Timmy’s Organism full-length, took in castoff Americana junk and outer-space with the same tone of fanciful awe, but Heartless Heathen centers more on characters, delinquents and reprobates who relish debasement, bad men with signature cackles. In other words, they’re somewhat comical villains—ugly illustrated renderings rather than psychopathic case studies—and the sense of goofy perversity is matched by Vulgar’s guitar, which modulates through a rather stunning array of unnatural, squeamish tones. There are sad sizzles, final rattles from an amp’s flickering tube, and, most significantly, feedback with the expressive voice of guitar leads, palpably sculpted by Vulgar’s physical gestures.
All of which makes Heartless Heathen’s couple of ballads, “Please Don’t Be Going” and “My Angel Above,” arrive at first as surprises and then settle as highlights. Part of Vulgar’s appeal is his resistance to change, an anachronistic and stubborn bent that appeals to folks who consider “garage” sullied by the Burger camp, or whatever. But it’s really the notes of wounded intimacy—his plaintive whistling on “Hey Eddie,” a tribute to an old friend, or the budget backups and strings inflecting the emotional tenor of his pleas to an old lover on “Please Don’t Be Going”—that sustain Vulgar’s singular trajectory.