"Practice makes perfect." In this case, it's the definitive adage to describe Mike Doughty's career as a solo musician. This frontman of Soul Coughing rather unsurprisingly made the transition to solo musicianship after the group broke up in 2000, although surprisingly departed from bohemian rap/scat to try his hand with earnest acoustic balladry.
His double album set, Skittish/Rockity Roll, released in late 2004, showcases Doughty's transition from his rather inane first recording as a soloist (Skittish) to an edgy second album, Rockity Roll. While I generally like my musicians to serve me up with a heaping dose of virtuosic talent from the get-go, I must admit that seeing Doughty's progression from an average debut to a stellar follow-up has been a rewarding experience for me as a listener as well as a pertinent reminder that good musicianship comes not only from innate talent, but in huge part from practice, practice, practice.
The material on Skittish, an album first recorded in 1996 and re-released in 2000 and 2004, was undoubtedly a cathartic musical outpouring for Doughty, considering that Soul Coughing avoided low-fi, minimalistic love ballads like the plague (for those of you unfamiliar with Soul Coughing, think Charlie Parker meets The Beastie Boys). And yet, there seems to be a distinct reason why the group steered Doughty away from such a path. While there is poignancy in Doughty's gravelly voice employed for musing on the sweet melancholy of love and disenchantment with modern day materialism, it just doesn't seem to be his most fruitful venture. Mostly because I still remember his catchy stream-of-consciousness beat poeting from the old days with Soul Coughing, and was hoping for a first album that was equally avant-garde and original. Removing my own personal prejudices from the mix, I must admit that Skittish is not all that bad; it's just not terribly exciting. This isn't to say that the album doesn't have its few gems. The proverbial moments in the sun come to Doughty with "The Only Answer," where pleasantly pared-down lyrics about the beauty of a new relationship and decidedly amateurish guitar work mix in a truly beautiful way, and "Sweet Lord in Heaven," a clever response to the traditional work hymn really capitalizes on Doughty's plaintive, rough-hewn vocals and bluegrass-inspired picking.
Doughty definitely redeems himself with his second solo album, Rockity Roll. I would say the difference lies in Doughty's use of a programmed drum machine and synthesizers this time around. When I normally think of drum machines and synthesizers, I think of Revenge of the Nerds?vaguely cool, but mostly laughable. But with Mike Doughty, it quintessentially works; it really does. The equation is this: a jaded-ex heroin addiction (Doughty) plus drum machine and synthesizers plus rhythmic guitar work equals six bouncy, fresh, decidedly current tracks.
The winning tracks on this album are all of them. "Ways + Means" is delectably hummable, "27 Jennifers" is delightfully cynical, "Down on the River by the Sugar Plant" is dangerously seductive, "40 Grand in the Hole" is heartbreakingly raw, "Ossining" is notably uplifting, and "Cash Cow" is compellingly honest. Rockity Roll is an easy pill to swallow, and is an exciting play between steady rhythmic intensity and punchy monologues on Doughty's own (but relatively universal) experiences with the superficial glitz and glam of the 21st century. Suffice it to say that Doughty's progress from Skittish to Rockity Roll certainly offers ample reason as to why waiting out the learning process is rewarding.