Album #112: Sambo - Jack In The Box

Sambo

Jack In The Box (2002)

In 2004, three friends and I ventured to Tasmania for a week to...well, basically sightsee, eat and drink our way around the state, enjoying fine Boags beverages and stuffing our faces with seafood. On one particular evening, we ventured to the Royal Oak Hotel in Launceston for a meal and a beer or nineteen. That night, we were treated to the solo acoustic sounds of Sambo (aka Tasmanian roots musician Samuel Bester, who is today a long-time fixture of the Tasmanian music scene). All of us rather enjoyed his work (as well as his use of the wah pedal with an acoustic guitar) and were sufficiently impressed enough to purchase a copy of his first album, Jack In The Box. 

It also helped that Sambo was a hell of a nice bloke.

Today I pulled it out for the first time in about five years and decided to give it a spin, so that I could listen to it with a more critical ear.

All I can say is, I must have been really drunk ten years ago.

The Album

Okay, maybe that's slightly unfair. For while Jack In The Box is not without its moments, and not without its charm, it's plagued by inexperience, from the rather trite lyrical content to the occasionally barely average vocals. At other times, though, I can see what we enjoyed; some tracks have an overflowing feeling of heart and warmth. There's certainly potential, and Sambo certainly has a fairly distinctive, rootsy voice (and he's a competent guitarist as well), but some of the tracks on the album just don't quite cut the mustard for a variety of reasons.

Waiting For The Plane is a perfect example of the album's issues. A rather catchy wah-guitar riff that had a strong whiff of funk on it is ruined somewhat by some rather questionable lyrics and a puzzlingly annoying vocal section later in the song. This pattern is repeated on songs such as Come On My Friend (which is in desperate need of a comma) and the wholly annoying hippie rock of Blue Sky Radio. This is not to mention the baffling jazzy showtune feel of Trouble, with its doowop backing vocals and a scat section that simply doesn't work, or 

Yet the songs that demonstrate Sambo's potential as a performer and songwriter are far more pleasant to listen to, and demonstrate either a more developed lyrical skill or utilise his talents as a soulful, skillful acoustic troubadour. The rootsy semi-ballad Come Sunshine is one of his best here, with a decent lyric, a great plaintive, yet hopeful, vocal and a sweet lilting melody created by his guitar and a piano. The pretty Came Here With Nothing evokes hints of Cat Stevens with its gently strummed guitar lines and Sambo's vocal stylings, a touch of Bob Dylan with the tasteful harmonica solo, and yet more decent folksy lyrics. Great Escape is at least an attempt to do something decent - a classic rock style tune, from the distorted riff to the Hammond style organ, although his vocal doesn't suit this sort of heavy tune. Sapphire is a fairly moody acoustic instrumental, the sort of thing people like Steve Howe and Steve Hackett used to chuck on Yes and Genesis albums (though nowhere near as technically good as those two). Nevertheless, there's a haunting beauty in the simplicity.

The irony of the whole thing is that this album was probably four or five years too early. Had it been released later, the stripped back, simple roots approach would have been rather popular. Instead, Sambo missed the boat slightly (though, having found some of his more recent material on the Triple J Unearthed website, I can report that his songwriting, and his voice, has acquired a very pleasing maturity, and I'm sorely tempted to explore his later recordings to see if he does this more consistently.)

The Verdict

Jack In The Box is a pleasant Sunday afternoon background noise album. It's not great, and at times it's downright annoying, but for an album written and recorded by an independent Tasmanian musician just trying to do what he loves, it shows a talent for soulful roots music and demonstrates that there are good musos who don't ever get the recognition they are striving for.

Despite my really drunk quip, I don't regret buying it, and you know what, if he played a gig in Victoria, I'd go see him. If only to remind him of a night in the Royal Oak Hotel in Launceston, when four drunken Victorians (well, three, actually, Richie was the designated driver) had a beer with him, told him he was really good, bought his albums and told him that he should totally play some gigs in Victoria.

And Sambo, should you ever read this, we're still waiting for those gigs.

My rating: ** and a half

Standout Tracks

Come Sunshine

Came Here With Nothing

Sapphire