Chris D.
(aka
Chris Desjardins
) was only sporadically active in music after
the Flesh Eaters
called it a day with 2004's
Miss Muerte
, and now that he's back in action, he has jumped in with both feet. After reuniting the all-star
Flesh Eaters
lineup that recorded 1981's
A Minute to Pray, A Second to Die
for touring, he took them into the studio to cut 2019's surprisingly vital comeback album
I Used to Be Pretty
. With his
colleagues back to their other pursuits,
Desjardins
has resurrected another of his former projects.
Divine Horsemen
was most notable for the vocal blend of
and
Julie Christensen
, and the sure-footed clarity of her singing was an intriguing complement for his ragged howl. The breakup of
was especially complicated since
Christensen
were man and wife and the collapse of the band coincided with their divorce. In the 2020s, they're cordial enough to work together again, and 2021's
Hot Rise of an Ice Cream Phoenix
is
's first studio set since 1987's
Snake Handler
. Just as it was hard not to compare
with
--
's style is strong enough that it dominates any project in which he takes part --
seems to invite comparisons with
. Both albums are a blend of new songs, re-recorded catalog material, and covers, and
Craig Parker Adams
produced both LPs in tandem with
. The
Minute to Pray
edition of
was an honestly great band, while at best
were a very good one; the musicians were capable, but not as imaginative as the lead vocalists, and none of their records were a slam dunk. That's also the case with
, though it's also as good an album as
have ever released.
' and
's voices are more weathered than they were in the 1980s, yet they play off one another better than ever, and with
Peter Andrus
on guitars and
D.J. Bonebrake
on drums, the band hits with authority that suits the songs well. The new tunes are up to the standards of the older cherry-picked material, and the real surprises come with the covers. These aging punk firebrands pull a lot of heat out of
Jefferson Airplane
's "Ice Cream Phoenix," and if only the most severe movie freak would think of covering "Can't You See Me" (from
Robert Downey, Sr.
's barely released 1970 cult item Pound),
rise to the challenge and make it both absurd and darkly funny.
isn't a blazing success, but coming from a group whose batting average was never consistent, the fact that most of it is honestly compelling suggests
's future may hold more promise than their past. ~ Mark Deming