Willy De Ville: Pistola - 2006

Willy De Ville's final album was the slightly patchy Pistola. It is not quite up to the standard of previous albums, and Willy's voice is sadly ageing, but there are still hints of what made me love him so much on there. 

So So Real is acoustically-backed, but has cadences of classic De Ville in its vocal delivery and whole structure, whereas Been There Done That sees Willy delving into brassy, gritty funk for one of the first times. Check out that clavinet and wah wah-driven groove. 

Willy's yesterday, today, tomorrow timeless, wonderful voice is there on top form on the gently melodic When I Get Home. knowing that this was to be his last album, there is something movingly valedictory about listening to this. Willy's ascension is near and he takes us all with him. God bless his eternal spirit. Sorry about that unprecedented display of emotion (never the best thing for a reviewer to do, but I have always written with my heart), but that's how this one has made me feel.

Louise finds Willy going country in the gently strummed steel guitar style of Gram Parsons and later Elvis Costello's Almost Blue album. New Orleans had always been close to Willy's heart and we are transported to the steamy streets of the big easy on the funeral-style brass Mardi Gras song, The Band Played On. Willy's voice makes him sound like an octogenarian on this one. 

The grimy You Got The World In Your Hands is a sort of cross between deep swamp blues and John Lennon. Listen to parts of the vocal and you might get the Lennon comparison. Classic De Ville returns on the Latin-tinged slow tearjerker I Remember The First Time - all melodic Spanish guitar and yearning vocals. Stars That Speak is a slow burner, delivered with a gruff spoken vocal. It is not my favourite, but it definitely has an atmosphere to it. 

I'm Gonna Do Something The Devil Never Did is a grinder of a blues number and the menacing swampy vibe concludes the album on the spooky the Mountains Of Manhattan. The album and De Ville's fine career ends with three deep bluesy growling numbers which are somewhat incongruous when viewed in comparison with the bulk of his work, but that was the direction in which his music was going at this point.

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