JOURNOS, The Burning Question

It’s kind of a given that if a hard edged, freewheeling Americana/roots rock duo like Journos launches their career with a critically acclaimed, embraced by radio album titled In the Key of WTF!, they’re always gonna offer us endless intrigue, crazy sonic and lyrical adventures and plenty of odd stares and queries – which naturally leads us to Bryan Russo and Ryan Abbott’s second stellar romp of a collection The Burning Question.

The moniker Journos sounds exotic rather than edgy and gritty, but it fits the collective musical and storytelling aesthetic of these two longtime working journalists who bring incisive insight into the human condition, told through the hearts of clever rhyming poets with wicked senses of humor. They did their professional scribing when they weren’t ripping up stages with tons of other bands, including Abbott’s surf punk trio The Phantom Limbs; Russo, whose vibe was described by veteran producer David Ivory as having the bluesy depth of a “young Tom Waits or Billy Joel,” also released an EP and two solo albums (look them up, please!). But down to the burning question at hand.

As engaging as their vocals, melodies and romping eclectic rhythms are – just compare the rollick, frolic and stomp of the title track with the brassy, dance-y, big band-y romp (with Andrews Sisters styled backing) on “Bootlegger’s Ball” – it’s ultimately their storytelling that wins the day. So much so that if you didn’t get the memo about their inventive interactive guitarisma, you could literally spend all day on the page of their website that lays out their lyrics like a smorgasbord of clever couplets, snappy wordplay, catchy phrases and widespread, always on point cultural namedropping.

Yeah, guys, we know who Elliot Smith is (“Nowhere to Hyde”), and are also familiar with Brigitte Bardot and John and McCartney (“Be Somebody”), and those of us who had a junior high lit class probably get what it means to go “Full Salinger.” But you’ve really got to be a serious Francophile to get the other reference in “Be Somebody,” referenced in the line “But she’s always looking for the cameras just like Michel Foucault.” (Just Google. They didn’t have it in Foucalt’s time, so appreciate it).

While many of the tracks find them in a peppy mood sharing some stage of disrepair in the human condition – i.e. “Brand New Drunk” and “Don’t Mind Me (I’m Falling Apart)” – or offbeat twists on the concept of romantic relationships (“Unapologetically Yours,” the one gentle acoustic outlier “Pieces of Heartache” feels like the straightforward emotional core of the album – and a much needed oasis from the quick witted, high intensity fire that animates most of the collection.