Faust Be Damned

Pegged with the freak-folk tag the better part of the decade for his work with neo-psychedelic outfit Wooden Wands, James Jackson Toth has been taking steady strides in the last few years to separate himself from the ill-defined ilk.

"That's kind of a genre created by journalists, just like trip-hop or grunge before it—a very easy catch-all phrase for anybody playing a guitar made of wood," says Toth by phone from his home in Murfreesboro. "It's unfortunate, because a lot of those bands have nothing in common. I mean, I don't want to wear any armbands."

Conjuring up Woody Guthrie comparisons alongside his Sky High Band for 2006's Second Attention, and veering close to singer-songwriter territory for last year's James and the Quiet—released on Thurston Moore's indie label Ecstatic Peace and backed by Sonic Youth co-founder Lee Ranaldo and drummer Steve Shelley—Toth has strayed far from his usual experimental buff into seemingly foreign ground. But it's the '60s-inspired alt-country of his latest LP, Waiting in Vain, that finally sees Toth taking his long-time-coming split from his Wooden Wand persona for his first "solo" debut. A burnt-ember toke of ethereal bar rock, which Toth describes as "referential to the Stones and Neil Young legacy" but laced with "psychedelic and country flourishes," Vain sees the restless musician at long last settling into a groove that has tapped him into a wellspring of creative energy. Confined to more straightforward song structures that aim for the three- to four-minute mark, Waiting in Vain avoids the 20-minute acid trips that weighed down 2006's Gipsy Freedom but still finds ways to stretch its legs into the experimental digressions and genre-blurring multi-instrumentation that has become his signature.

"I'm sure people would like for me to keep repeating the records that they like, but I'm pretty restless," says Toth. "I'm usually writing three records ahead of what I'm recording and touring."

In keeping with Toth's piqued lyrical sense of "temptation and redemption" and evoking Tom Waits-esque barstool lowlifes and foreboding Styx underlords, the mid-album track "Becoming Faust" was once a candidate for the album's title. While that song is the most blaring example of the album's rock leanings, driven by punchy drums synched with thick-picked chord thrusts, it's "The Park," a misleadingly sunny country-rock anthem, that ultimately bears the album's title in its lyrics. It's one of the many tracks that owe a deep debt to Toth's wife Jexie for her ominous back-up vocals—her main project being an acid metal band called Jex Thoth based in Slab City, Calif. It kicks off with a twittering guitar lick and buoyant duet that makes the most of every syllable until threatened by a jangly guitar backdrop that takes over in its final minute to noisily dominate the unsteady rhythm of a barroom piano.

Besides Waiting in Vain's more orthodox form, the album is given even further palatability for its glossy studio production—a luxury the Wooden Wands never afforded themselves, but one that Toth said helped focus the songs.

"When you're not worrying about the Radio Shack microphone falling out of the shoe you have it propped up in, or you're not worried about the dude who doesn't play drums but has a drum set, it frees you up," says Toth.

It was producer Steve Fisk, though, who made the most of a more padded budget by polishing Toth's stripped-down demos and striking the balance between the musician's more avant-garde bend and the songs' tight arrangements. Having grown a reputation for his work on the West Coast with alt-rock giants Nirvana and Soundgarden, Fisk was the needed general for harnessing the album's impressive list of guest musicians. Auxiliary support lends a thick atmosphere to Toth's fundamentals—from Devendra Banhart/Vetiver drummer Otto Hauser, Wilco's Nels Cline and Deerhoof's John Dietrich, with the latter two displaying some of Waiting in Vain's more stellar guitar solos.

Like most densely packed productions, though, Vain's sheen finish doesn't always translate verbatim onstage. That only provides a ready excuse for Toth's ever-shifting live renditions that keeps both him and the audience alert.

"I think going out there and doing something rote, it's no fun anyway," says Toth. "You can be a well-oiled machine, and that's great for the first five nights of the tour, but on day 35, how exciting is it going to be? It's got to be about happy accidents."