Send "Wooden Wand " Ringtones to your Cell 
| Tinymixtapes |
 A death seat is a powerful obelisk. It carries with it grim imagery — the idea that, at any moment, where you sit could spell the end of existence. Whether you choose a literal or metaphysical interpretation, the visage of death will be staring you in the face. However, James Toth’s death seat — the ups and downs of being on the road, the weariness of blue collar work, a battle with a major label — has amounted to a new book of scripture with the heavenly Michael Gira guiding him to the light.Death Seat sees Toth returning to the dark folk that formed Wooden Wand's reputation. Back behind the warmth of his nom de plume, Toth digs deep into his soul to reveal those recesses he’d rather forget. Yet Death Seat is the sound of Toth riding out the shit storm, hands grasping the dashboard as the devil puts the pedal to the metal before eating it at Dead Man’s Curve. The moral choices, everyday mistakes, Biblical epitaphs, and life epiphanies that have littered past Wooden Wand albums play the part of the lead foot. The first step of absolving one of sin is to repent: “Bobby” plays out Toth's sins before he hits full speed. He rattles off a note of self-caution sung into the rear view mirror as he stares down his mortality at the edge of a cliff. He chastises the titular character for his meekness while giving praise for “not being as bad as you seem.”...full text |
| Blogcritics |
| The stories are as old as the hills they come from. Robert Johnson spoke of the hellhound on his trail. Johnny Cash saw a burning ring of fire. Mark Lanegan offered whiskey to the Holy Ghost. What they and countless others have tried to relay is a vision of the great unknown. James Jackson Toth, aka Wooden Wand, has seen a few things as well. The twelve country-blues songs that make up Death Seat feature occasional embellishments, but for the most part it is just him and his guitar. The confirmation that James lives in a strange world is evident right from the beginning. “Sleepwalking After Midnight” is a nice tune, with a melody reminiscent of “Far Away Eyes” by the Stones. The lyrics are something entirely different though. This is a love song from the real America, a broadcast from deep in the old, weird South. Get it while you can is what James is saying, because “By the light of the watercolor sun, no one will recall what they’ve done.” From there Toth heads straight to the source in “The Mountain.” Like a desperate hill-dwelling Nick Drake, he lays out a frightening vision of what it is to be truly alone. “I know a girl, who strips and shoots, she sees the world in absolutes,” he intones and you feel that you know her too. The tale is as dark as night, as is the delivery – and utterly riveting. Title track “Death Seat" features some gorgeous interplay between mandolin and guitar, right behind the yarn James spins from his very own perch. While the subject matter is always mysterious, even threatening at times, the effect is (mostly) alleviated by the lighter music. But on “Hotel Bar,” the haunting words are matched with a truly desolate arrangement. Even the seemingly neutral sound of a strummed guitar sounds sinister when played behind a song that opens with the words “A hotel bar in the sky, where even your honesty is full of white lies.”...full text |
| Popmatters |
| Just to read the titles of James Jackson Toth’s recent output—Born Bad, Hard Knox, and now Death Seat—is to get a pretty clear sense of where he’s coming from. He had a major-label deal go sour, had a band quit on him mid-tour, and got himself arrested—nearly all at the same time. So you’d forgive the main man behind Wooden Wand for sounding a little bitter. Born Bad, a collection of demos reportedly rejected by Rykodisc, surely reflects that. But the Hard Knox collection, culled from tracks recorded between 2002 and 2007, took a longer view on Toth’s work, and reminded us of the strength of his work, even as he’s shifted over the years from folk outlier to dusty, countrified troubadour. As a next step, though, Death Seat comes off as nothing so depressing or self-destructive as its title implies. Now comfortably set up with a deal at Michael Gira’s Young God label, Toth has found a second chance for his career, and that new burst of life comes out in this impressive set. Of course, he hasn’t left his moody folk behind for sunbursts of joy just yet, but there’s a liveliness to these songs, even as they trudge through the rutted out roads of folk and country music. What’s perhaps most impressive about Death Seat is how Toth seems to have finally struck the perfect balance between raw nerve and shaped experience. We can tell by his career troubles that he has been through plenty tough spots, and he renders those dark moments here with a well-considered honesty. There’s no shapeless anger, no biting wrath, but neither is there a stumbling need to convince us of his narrator’s authority. These songs may not all be about him directly, but he delivers them that way, not with a but-this-really-happened insistency, but rather with careful shifts in tone and a surgical eye for detail....full text |
Wooden Wand lyrics
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