Merckle may hail from Charleston, but his songs reflect the backroads of the western part of his state. Riffing on the blues, gospel and plenty of Appalachian roots, Merckle uses an impressively-stocked palette to create songs that evoke feels as dissimilar as enthusiastic washboard hollering and 16 Horsepower-esque rolling doom.

Don Merckle Same Devil New Skin (self-released)

Most arresting is his use of horns, especially in unusual settings. All of a sudden a shaft of light pierces the darkness--and then retreats once more. Merckle uses other pieces of sonic punctuation to illuminate his dark journeys, but I am partial to the New Orleans-style trumpet out of nowhere.

His gift for populating his songs with many disparate elements within the bass-driven propulsive undercurrent or shambling roots rituals is a constant treat. Merckle surprises musically and lyrically, and he carries all of this off with the suave demeanor of an MC about to leave on sinister business.

This wide-ranging album is a wonder of sound and ideas. Merckle doesn't pause long enough to allow a listener to get comfortable. Each piece provides a fresh tableau of mordant wonder. If you disappear into these hollers, you might never return.

Jon Worley