Jesse Malin
has come a long way from his
glam rock
heyday of fronting
D Generation
, and his solo debut,
The Fine Art of Self Destruction
, is an impressive look at
Malin
's musical maturation. He's a crooner, an
Americana
caterwaul, and a picaro of his native New York City, but a lonesome one at that.
displays a hearty mix of bittersweet
alt-country
(
"Queen of the Underworld"
) and ballsy
roots rock
"Wendy"
), but the album is fully supported with a
punk rock
edge that
's most familiar with. Having ex-
Whiskeytown
frontman
Ryan Adams
in the production seat is a great fit, for both he and
's love-sucker hearts dance around the soft-hued beauty of each song. One might sense a slight hesitation in
's presentation, but it's not distracting.
's flight-or-fight theme on
is what makes this album an enjoyable introduction. He sifts through personal confusion on all different levels, and
Adams
has captured
's most intimate moments.
"Almost Grown,"
layered with candied guitar licks, recounts being a child of divorce, while
"Xmas"
is a bit more angelic with its lush string arrangements. Those tender years of being a kid are hell, and
isn't afraid in reminding all of his listeners that time shapes one's character as well, and that's what
is about: regardless of where your home is, find your focus and don't get lost. In
"Cigarettes and Violets,"
warbles: "Messed up like a prizefight/At least you could have tried/Messed up like the system/You used to call a sin," and it's so raw you can tell
's heart is breaking and mending ten times over. There's no regret here, but
makes it alright to talk about what could have happened. He's done an intricate, stunning job. ~ MacKenzie Wilson