As we read the comments from David Barbe on his post-punk Athens-based trio, Mercyland, from the mid-eighties and early nineties, we note that the award-winning producer/engineer and co-founder of the band has for decades been more often associated as the sound architect of The Drive-By Truckers. Barbe had this previous life though even before he joined Bob Mould’s Sugar, as Mercyland was among several bands that made the Athens scene so vital during the late ‘80s. They had a reputation as an eviscerating, stage-burning live act. The band broke up in 1991 after only releasing two albums. Hence the 7-inch singles and compilation tracks, comprising nine have been reassembled and re-engineered by Barbe three decades later into this one final album, We Never Lost a Single Game, that was once planned but never issued. It reminds one of the Dylan song, “My Back Pages” with Barbe essentially in the mode of “I was so much older then, I’m younger than that now.”
First words of caution – brace yourself. If you think the DBTs are loud and a bit punkish, Mercyland is several notches above that: this is head-banging stuff. Mercyland, through Barbe’s admission, may have had no clue as to what they were doing but found their brand of post-punk to actually be ahead of its time. Commenting on the track “Freight Truck,” released as a single and featuring guest John Keane on pedal steel, Barbe says, “We were already secretly plotting our breakup and were taking our music wherever we felt like at that point with no concern about how it might fit in with our past, music at that moment, or really anything else. We were definitely flying things up the flagpole and if someone wanted to salute, fine. If not, we were still flying the flag.”
The trio, which also featured guitarist Andrew Donaldson and drummer Joel Suttles along with Barbe on bass and lead vocals, took inspiration from such American underground peers as Hüsker Dü, Dinosaur Jr, and The Replacements while expertly synthesizing those influences into a throbbing, adrenaline-charged sound all its own. The intro bass and drums sound as if they are out for a leisurely stroll in the opener, their manifesto of sorts, “Minutes and Parts,” before becoming a volcanic bedrock for Donaldson’s screaming guitar and unrestrained vocals. The jagged rhythms heard here and on others such as “Tough Ass Knives” nodded to those coming out of the Washington D.C. post-hardcore scene but that’s just one ingredient. You can hear elements of a singalong in “Who Hangs Behind Your Eyes” amidst the deafening backdrop. Drummer Suttles is beating his kit beyond frenzied proportions, but the band has a way of shifting gears and tempos quickly and unexpectedly.
As we settle in, (or bounce around the room) we begin to hear bits of melodies in tunes such as “Waiting for the Garbage Can,” “Uncle,” and “Service Economy” with “Uncle” bearing syncopated rhythms. As with most of the fare here though, it’s all sing-at-the-top-of-your-lungs with the Marshalls turned to ten and incessantly fiery drumming – a full-on aural assault with the utmost energy expended by all three members. Even when they begin a tune with a relatively tame rhythmic intro such as “John D. White” it quickly careens off the rails. Play it all loud and/or run for cover – your choice. It’s vital history just the same – The Rock Show on steroids. Oh, and that reference to the Dylan song, you may well decide that if Barbe is “younger than that now” this writer (a devoted DBT fan) is not. So be it.
