Originating from the Davis, California bay area, singer Sean O’Brien has risen from and survived the ashes of several 1980’s bands, most famously being the relatively unknown True West.
Almost and unfortunately unsurprisingly his second solo album ‘Seed Of Mayhem’ is from the off a non starter and an album that isn't rewarded by repeated listening. The band that accompanies him is that of a standard soft rock boarding on folk outfit that is little short of directionless under the command of O’Brien with the end result being fourteen tracks of below average pub music.
Flitting between extremes of safely edgy electric guitar in the opening tracks ‘This Could Hurt’ and ‘7.5’ which sounds like an ill advised stumble down memory lane with the ironic lyrics “Wont you ever show me something new”, ironic because there is nothing new about O’Brien’s music. The opening tracks have a slap dash thrown together feel which is representative of the majority of the album and does nothing to encourage further listening.
After the initial opening rock feel of ‘Seed Of Mayhem’ O’Brien opts for a folk rock style which is not only more considered, soft, natural and confident but also suits his style and plays to his vocal abilities with ‘The Bottom Of The Toy Box’ and ‘Damned Either Way (electric)’ as does the soft country rock (albeit for those with a limited imagination) of ‘The Good Fight’ and ‘She Wonders’. Throughout the album, but far more pronounced here, is an annoying sense of being older and far wiser than those listening to his album. In many ways this may be true but by this point it’s all wearing a bit thin and comes across as patronizing.
It’s extremely easy to lose track of what you’re listening to and exactly where you are throughout ‘Seed Of Mayhem’ thanks to O’Brien’s grating voice and rambling thoughts. After rock, folk and a few curios ventures thrown in between for good measure, we now approach O’Brien’s spiritual awakening phase...and like the rest of the album it’s not pretty. ‘Possum Ate The Cat Food (another meal)’ (its not enough that the music is bad but the song titles, as well as ‘Stumblebum’ and ‘Tranny Ignored’ leave a lot to be desired and yes that is important) with a Doors style guitar and drum intro that could herald the start of an Indian summer mixed with distorted vocals leave you wondering when the lizard king will make his grand appearance, then leave you wondering if he’s serious, before the slow realisation that he’s nothing but serious seeps in.
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'Eyewear’ follows and we move from the late sixties through to the early seventies with more of the same basic lame musicianship. After some more ranting in ‘Torn Sweater’ (“Don't sew up the hole in my torn sweater”) and we finally see some light at the end of a very long tunnel, ending, not before time, with ‘A Bee’s Tale’ which is surprisingly the best song on the album, although its still not great, too little too late and over seven minutes long.
In short, there’s no mayhem here, not even a hint of it, no seed is sewn and the whole experience leaves you feeling nothing short of confused, numb and mildly annoyed. Listen at your peril, miss at your leisure.
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