Bootleg Detroit
Rykodisc

Every decade sees a few ascendant talents burn out before their time, by misadventure, chance, or even choice. Jimi Hendrix, D. Boon of the Minutemen, and Kurt Cobain all died just as they began charting new territory, leaving fans ruminating about what might have been. Although Morphine's front man, Mark Sandman, didn't have the name recognition of a Hendrix or a Cobain, he nonetheless left an indelible imprint on rock 'n' roll.

Sandman, who collapsed onstage in 1999 after suffering a massive heart attack, carved out a unique sound in a decade dominated by the so-called alternative movement. Whereas radio-friendly acts like Pearl Jam and Stone Temple Pilots also fell under this all-inclusive label, Morphine took the low road toward the unknown. After all, what could be more alternative than a rock trio that eschewed guitars for a meaty sound based on drums, baritone sax, and Sandman's two-string slide bass?

Bootleg Detroit captures Sandman and bandmates Dana Colley and Billy Conway as they pound out minimalist rock, stripped of fat and oozing with sexuality. Despite the lo-fi recording — a fan recorded it in 1994 during a stop on the band's “Cure for Pain” tour — Morphine's consummate skills as a live act come through stunningly.

From the haunting opener of “Come Along” to the devilish swagger of “Buena,” Sandman's laconic vocals intertwine with Colley's gut-wrenching squonks and peals of abrasive notes to create an unsettling mix. “Thursday” positively seethes with nervousness as the protagonist tells his classic, jittery tale of stumbling into an affair and having to skip town to avoid an enraged husband.

Sandman's genius for Dashiell Hammett-style noir rock shines through the CD's flaws, making Bootleg Detroit a sometimes melancholy listen. Few artists share Sandman's gift for painting haunted characters grappling with loss and obsession. During “Mary” — when he repeatedly whispers “Mary, won't you call my name” — the band abruptly cuts out, leaving only his voice and a dark sense of need.

“You really are a sophisticated audience,” Sandman says wryly at one point, after he performs the trippy spoken-word piece “My Brain.” It's a shame we won't be hearing new songs from such a visionary musician.
Rating (out of 5): 4.5