Jesse Malin: The Fine Art Of Self-Destruction : Music Reviews : Rolling Stone

Album Reviews

For Jesse Malin, New York is sanctuary; it's the place he grew up riding the subway, hanging out on rooftops and in nightclubs, and cavorting with an endless cast of characters. While moving in and out of Manhattan's long shadows, Malin evolved from pre-teen punk (Heart Attack) to glammy growler (D-Generation) to reflective singer-songwriter. The Fine Art of Self Destruction is his love letter to New York, one that conveys the notion that the most alone a person can be is in a city of millions. Some of these songs have been circulating for a couple of years, but Malin's pal and producer Ryan Adams galvanizes them into a unified effort, using classic flourishes to give them a familiar sound. In "Queen of the Underworld," the guitar soul-thwack and breezy "ooohs" (provided by Melissa Auf der Maur) of the verses gives way to a jangle-pop chorus, and dueling piano and organ build the yearning mood of "Brooklyn." But it's Malin's personal reflections, such as growing up a child of divorce in the Seventies in "Almost Grown," that give Fine Art its soul. With a voice that seems to tumble straight out of his throat, his emotional directness is yet one more example of just how fine the line is between punk and roots rock.

MEREDITH OCHS
(January 28, 2003)