Kid Dakota’s Darren Jackson emanates bitterness, cynicism and irony. He paints images of depression and depravity so well, it’s no wonder he spent some time in hospitals trying to clear his head. But don’t let me scare you away. Even if the aforementioned subjects turn you off, you’ll be missing out if you pass on Kid Dakota’s take on them.

Five of the eight songs on this album were previously self-released as the So Pretty EP in 2001. The new songs (“Crossin’ Fingers,” “Bathroom,” and “The Overcoat”) add even more depth to Kid Dakota’s angry-slowcore-meets-dirty-rock sound, and solidify my opinion that Darren Jackson is definitely a songwriter to keep an eye on. I could speak volumes about So Pretty, but for brevity’s sake I’ll focus on three songs.

The opening track “Crossin’ Fingers” blazes in with a siren-sounding lead, hypnotizing like a snake charmer before a palm-muted resolve ushers in the verse. The song finds Jackson in his room trying to reach his girlfriend and realizing all too well where she is. “I know where you are…I know you’re with him.” And just in case there’s any doubt, he bellows, “There ain’t no secrecy, I read all your diaries I know he’s more than a friend.” Ultimately, after his angry shots in the dark (at one point he breathes “I wish you were dead”) Jackson regretfully ends the song meditating on the line “jealousy is what saved me from believing the lies, doubting the truth” – reassuring himself in comfortable loathing that relationships are a bitch.

The solo acoustic ballad “Pairin’ Off” is Darren’s ironic ode to spring. I love the way he pairs the pleasant with the vulgar in phrases like, “Kentucky bluegrass growing green and girls in mini-skirts” and “Come on girl, girl cum with me, bring skin and golden locks,” and then wrapping the song in a pretty bow by amiably stating: “Spring is finally comin’ we are young and so carefree.” Leave it to Jackson to strip down the beautiful aura surrounding springtime and create mild pornography.

“So Pretty” is still my favorite song on the LP. Right before the chorus, ice cube trays click with a castanet-like staccato, putting me on the edge of my seat. Even when I listen to it today it feels like I’m waiting for a ticking bomb to explode. And then comes the nastiest sounding bass distortion I’ve ever heard. The bass tone in the chorus is so thick and delightfully rude that I can’t help but jerk every time it enters. Apart from the stirring instrumentation, Jackson ceases to let the listener down with lyrics equally twisted as the previous examples. Phrases like “with my belt between teeth I’m ready to be friendly once again,” and “Niki, oh Niki, so young and so pretty, your dad doesn’t know what you are,” make Jackson seem like someone you’d hate your daughter to bring home. Yet, aside from this scenario I can’t help but find him endearingly sleazy.

This album, simply stated, kicks my ass. I didn’t even mention “Smokestack” or “Overcoat” (two more amazing songs), or the fact that Zak Sally (of Low) plays bass on a few tracks. All in all, you will not be disappointed with this record, so go check it out.

--Paul Custer