"Arguably the greatest singer of his generation": Mark Lanegan rarely sounded as soulful as he did on Bubblegum

A wonderful treat as the late Mark Lanegan's sixth solo album Bubblegum is expanded to mark its 20th anniversary

Mark Lanegan: Bubblegum XX cover art
(Image: © Beggars Arkive)

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Much-missed blues maestro Mark Lanegan has rarely sounded more soulful, more poignant than on his sixth solo album, 2004’s Bubblegum, an album stunning in its simplicity and candour. Desolate beauty and drug-induced despair yes, but somehow shrouded in a redeeming light that highlights Lanegan’s status as arguably the greatest singer of his generation (and yes that includes Cornell and Cobain). 

Recorded at various locations in 2003-04 and featuring collaborators Josh Homme and Nick Oliveri (QOTSA), Duff McKagan and Izzy Stradlin and PJ Harvey (who contributes stunning vocals to the bruising single Hit The City), there is not a weak track here, from the maudlin yet compelling Lee Hazlewood-referencing Wedding Dress to the full-on deadpan freak-out of Methamphetamine Blues

Lanegan’s voice is stunning in its range and depth, and the whole sounds so effortless it could have been knocked out in a couple of days (it wasn’t). As Homme writes in the sleevenotes: “When he told me: ‘I’m calling it Bubblegum’, I was like, you’re a sick fuck. Because I knew him, so that’s funny to me, ‘cause Lanegan wanted to be a new piece of bubblegum on a sunny happy day. But he was the gum underneath the desk […] He was the dark Lord.” 

The original crammed 15 songs onto one vinyl record in 50 minutes. The four-LP box set reissue expands this to a double album, plus two bonus LPs featuring rarities, out-takes and demos, including 12 previously unreleased tracks. All of which are unmissable.

Everett True

Everett True started life as The Legend!, publishing the fanzine of that name and contributing to NME. Subsequently he wrote for some years for Melody Maker, for whom he wrote seminal pieces about Nirvana and others. He was the co-founder with photographer Steve Gullick of Careless Talk Costs Lives, a deliberately short-lived publication designed to be the antidote to the established UK music magazines.