[DIRTY BLUES ROCK] Plenty of bands over the past two decades have tried to mesh some essence of deep Southern blues with their own suburban, white influences—Jon Spencer Blues Explosion, Spacemen 3 and the Talking Heads, to name just a few. Fewer still are the groups that manage to pull it off with any degree of authenticity. Here in Portland, blues duo Hillstomp and gospel crusaders the Builders and the Butchers probably come as near as any band from the Northwest could. But Cicada Omega is running very close behind.

Fronted by Rev. B.D. Winfield, the local quartet has proven itself a live act to be reckoned with—leaving audiences (and the members themselves) shaken and sweaty by the end of their howling, fiery performances. And it’s already captured that essence on a pair of self-released live recordings, but now Cicada’s taken its revivalist fervor into the studio for first proper full-length These Bones. As to be expected, the songs lose a little steam in the translation—but the music still fumes and spouts with a surfeit of wild-eyed energy.

What sells the entire album is how ugly it sounds. The guitars vary between a muffled, wool-blanket tone and a warped quality that sounds like Winfield strung his ax with copper telephone wire. And the vocals sound as if Winfield were tied to the mast of a ship, railing at the waves of sound crashing over him with Beefheartian fury—particularly on rave-up “Last Night” and simmering trance-blues number “Ring Like Gold.” It’s the drums and percussion (duties shared by Dave Rue and Salim Sundiata Sanchez) that come off unnecessarily clean, saved only when matched up with the sounds of clanging metal (courtesy of Sanchez’s kitchenware percussion) and heavy-footed stomping that mark several tracks.

By the end of Bones, Cicada Omega seems absolutely spent; as such, the closing few numbers—particularly the final, title track—feel lackadaisical when compared with the lean, hopped-up songs that precede them. But it seems an almost necessary end, a bit of a cushion for listeners to drop onto after shaking their way through the rest of the album. Considering the aesthetic of the band’s live show, though, it would’ve made a lot more sense to leave listeners in a heap at the end, sweaty and begging for more.