Rising from U.S. regions with the darkest history of the country, those that have likely spilled the most blood, endured the most natural disaster and told the darkest of tales, it's no wonder the Mississippi/Delta blues feel so creepy, frightening even. Forever rooted in mysterious evil, the swampy, back-porch, stomping blues can't avoid the dark side — they were born with it. Since The Gossip have been living through it, resurrecting it, for some time now, they couldn't exorcise their gritty, heavy-as-boulders tunes of the blues demons even if they wanted to. They know how to manipulate its force, now they're forced to live with the blues' shady spirit. It is, after all, such omnipotent power that gives the Olympia, Wash.-by-way-of-Arkansas threesome the ability to give their music a life all its own, separate from its creators (not to mention the hefty dose of punk's seediness pitching in on the bad factor). Opening with a coming-to-get-you beat that feels as creepy as the beating of Poe's telltale heart, the band's latest album, Movement, begins with the minimal lead track "Nite," marching eerily and casting a shadow to ensure the darkness of the remaining 10 tracks. Grinding in synch like railroad workers, "All My Days" is fueled by a muddy, funky guitar riff, raw drumming and traditional blues sentiment. The song closes by breaking down to impassioned lone gospel singing that maintains a rhythm with handclaps: "Sun won't shine /Come back to me /Moon hang high /Come back to me." Closer "Light Light Sleep" feels primal, treacherous, severely broken and even a little under the influence of '70s metal (which is the case throughout the longplayer), as frontwoman Beth Ditto — kind of like a cross between Tina Turner and Sleater-Kinney singer Corin Tucker — sounds as desperate as someone begging for mercy. The Gossip are said to have begun atop a punk-rock foundation — one that's allowed them an outlet for their internal angst, riot-grrrl attitude and political awareness. But having more recently stuck a foot in the grave of the Deep South's blues, they've discovered they need not invent it to use its spirit, ensuring the blues immortal.
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