Tucson, by Giant Giant Sand

Author

By Mary Leary

Publish Date

Nov. 8, 2012

Rarely has a format seemed as fitting as “country rock opera” does for Giant Giant Sand’s meshing of folk/jazz/rock/blues/country with offhand theatricality. Based on the group’s most dependable obsession/location — the Southwest — Tucson is a dip into the rabbit hole of lead singer/composer Howe Gelb’s psyche. Those who order the physical CD receive a cryptic clue: a postcard that uses midcentury graphics to proclaim “Greetings from Tucson, Arizona” over a drawing of a traveler pointing at a bike with a flat tire.

GGS’ collage of barstool confessionals, delectable acoustic/electric textures, and a solemnity so depth-y it’s funny (in the way of Sam Shepard’s plays) is no mean feat. But don’t ask me what’s going on — how do you decipher swirls of beautifully appointed guitars and whispered, often snail’s-pace vocals? Tucson is a vehicle for desert wanderings; whether real or metaphorical, perhaps after cooking up some mushrooms. When you least expect it, cactus flowers and prairie dogs will appear, then morph into some of Gelb’s sweetest, most-moving-to-date melodies (“Plane of Existence,” “Love Comes Over You,” “Undiscovered Country”).