Album Review: Rapskallion - Vagabond King

Everyone loves a band of maddened vaudevillians that hatch brilliant theatrical live shows and then lay it down on record as an aural taste of such shindigs. No? Well no, I suppose they don't. It's not for everyone you see. It's niche. There lies the beauty and allure of this meandering, narrative-ignited, bluesy folk jam from Rapskallion.

Vagabond King is the second LP from Melbourne's colourful coven. It's an album for vagrants, those rascals who desire to get out of their skins and throw down with the freaks. Embrace your inner carny and appreciate the fine musicianship, diverse and decadent vocals, piano accordions, eerie mandolins, horns a-plenty and strings of another realm.

Rapskallion are an atmospheric band. This accomplished recording sounds live; it's rough around all the right edges and very sensory. With Vagabond King as soundtrack, you smell the fire, sense tempranillo in your veins, taste the Romani mouths, and ignite your unstretched muscles as you feel the need to grind and rave.

Destiny and Marlene showcase the sultry ramblin' from the divine Sara Yael, while Cat Thief is snappy yet sinister, with soul stripping horns. Captain Crow is a scurvy narrative, with sorrowful nautical violins, snaking piano accordion and a bountiful fable.

You hear menacing, delightful chants on Devils, while Flappers has the scent of a Spanish fiesta, heaving with strings that would do Warren Ellis proud. Secret winds down the album with a jovial, sing-song finale.

Few bands can really penetrate music of the by-gones and deliver their inspired creation with authenticity. Sown with a similar weft as Mojo Juju & The Snake Oil Merchants or Gogol Bordello, Rapskallion do.