“Everything that they ever warned us about, all the sad things, all the bad things, all of those things, they are coming. They are all coming to pass.” So singeth Samuel Locke Ward, master of minimalism, grim jester and bard of Iowa in the unhinged 2020s.
In a just world, Samuel Locke Ward would be the state of Iowa’s fully-funded artist laureate. But a just world would not require the catharsis of Thrift Store Gtr Gold, in which Ward distills his acerbic, howlingly funny vision to a brisk 22-song, 43-minute set of disarmingly listenable music.
In the wake of the downhill political slide of 2022, Ward sat down in front of a microphone with his trusty, gaudy-green Oscar Schmidt acoustic guitar, rescued (as the title suggests) from a thrift store, and recorded an album as angry and passionate as any of his recent works.
“Restraint” is an odd word to direct at Ward, especially when all the usual weirdness is present, like twisted-Beach Boys harmonies, absurd lyrics and atonal gamelan-esque guitar (used to illustrate the menace of “Bad Energy.”) But there’s no hollerin’, no hardcore gang-vocals, no sax skronk, just artfully-contained and tuneful disgust directed at the craven monsters lurking in the Iowan halls of power (and their easily-fooled enablers).
Whether or not Ward intentionally made it his mission to make his music a total reflection of Iowan life is irrelevant; at this point it’s impossible to separate one from the other. The characters and situations depicted in Thrift Store Gtr Gold are as Iowan as it gets, from the vexed citizen seeking priestly guidance for the wayward subject of “She’s Troubled” to the warped nostalgia of “That Iowa Sky” (in which cigarettes are boosted from senile relatives, nasty ditchweed is smoked on gravel roads and witchy kids dance in graveyards).
The most timely tune is “Banned Books,” described by Ward as the new “Iowa state anthem.”
It’s not all despair — “Insubordination” is a call to (in)action: “Do not obey, don’t do what they say, don’t give an inch, don’t let them have their way.”
And closer “Wasteland” (from which the opening lines of this review are taken) is awash in the glory of love, even when all else seems hopeless: “. . . there’s no one else in this whole wide world, not a single person that I’d rather walk this dystopian nightmare with than you.”
Thrift Store Gtr Gold is a reminder of the power of transgressive art in repressive times, right down to the amorous gayliens embracing on the cover. Hold on to each other, keep creating and keep this (and Ward’s other albums) in rotation; their effects may surprise you.
This article was originally published in Little Village’s July 2023 issue.
