The Detroit Cobras dovetail nicely into "Shangri-La." First, it's a catchall descriptor for fans of creaky old r&b; and soul singles. For them, Cobras albums are crackling pieces of heaven, combining all the music's sex and danger with the detail of an archivist. Plus, buying stuff like Baby or their memorable 1998 debut Mink Rat or Rabbit saves hours wasted trolling mildew-y record shops and the back alleys of eBay. But "Shangri-La" also references the Cobras' connection to Memphis and Stax/Volt, Cooper-Young cool. They're conduits for the city's soul history, but they also have a contemporary link in Greg Cartwright: Baby's co-producer and lately a fulltime Cobra, Cartwright was a member of Memphis garage rock instituions the Reigning Sound, the Oblivians, and Compulsive Gamblers, the last two of which recorded for...Shangri-La Records. That the Cobras' bash-and-slink versions of those old songs paint them as both interpreters and garage rock revivalists only completes the Shangri-la daisy chain.
Baby was released on Rough Trade in the UK and Europe earlier this year, but in America it's the band's Bloodshot debut. They've picked out 12 more r&b; obscurities, but also thrown in an original, the shamelessly salacious "Hot Dog (Watch Me Eat)" ("You bring the drinks, and I got the buns..."). Covering old cuts of r&b; and soul as they do, you might expect Cobras vocalist Rachel Nagy to try on her damndest Carla Thomas or Aretha Franklin, or at least sing with cockeyed arm on hip. But instead Nagy sings with a cocky, slow-burn confidence that's throaty enough to handle the material but is all kinds of unique, too. Her voice places the Cobras on the cusp between purism and reinterpretation. Plus, if you want to push the intro bit even further, on "It's Raining" and "Real Thing" she suggests the dusky girl group growl of the Shangri-Las.
While Nagy's delivery is the Cobras' centerpiece, much of their famously kinetic groove comes from guitars that wrangle all trebly over drumming that's heavy on cymbals and wet snare. "Cha Cha Twist" is part fire, part whisper, and wants to turn your living room into a clothing-optional dance party, while Bobby Womack's "Baby Help Me" alternates its pleading verses with big trashy chords in the chorus and still finds time to reference the Percy Sledge version with a silky bass line.
The Cobras can crank out shimmy-ready numbers like "Cha Cha", "Everybody's Going Wild", and opener "Slippin' Around" ("We're making love 15 miles from town!") in their sleep. But because things come easy for them, the Cobras might be tempted to coast a little-- and that's a factor on Baby. They're always raucous-- and Nagy is always on-- but the album can also leave you wondering, "What if the Detroit Cobras covered this one or that one, or the deeper-in-the-stacks one?" Luckily, they'll never run out of material for the very same reason. And when Nagy and the band really hit it, as on Baby's "Weak Spot", "Raining", and "Just Can't Please You", you're too busy reveling in a band on top of their game to wonder what they could've been doing instead.
