Like no record before or since, Gentlemen is fraught with the
psychological warfare, bedroom drama, Catholic guilt, reprehensible
deception, and shame that coincide with relationships gone seriously
wrong. Its seemingly thick skin is rife with argument, infection,
claustrophobia, temptation, accusation, illness, addiction, blood,
scourge, and spite. And then there's the music. Singer Greg Dulli's
liquor-cabinet confessions are chased with some of the blackest-sounding
rock ever committed to tape by a white band. Hopped-up on primal energy,
the mesmerizing R&B, funk, slide-blues, garage, and chamber-pop strains
are tied to a come-hither soulfulness perfumed with hyssop and stained
with nicotine.
To this day, Gentlemen remains as cursed as its controversial
narrator, an album out of time even in its time. Released in October
1993, when grunge ruled the world, it sold far less than works by most
"alternative" bands of the day. Despite glowing reviews and feverish
tour support, Gentlemen faded from view--and yet it remains dearly
beloved to almost everyone who's heard it.
Drawing on new, in-depth interviews with all of the band members, Bob
Gendron dissects the record's charisma, arrangements and lyrics. He also
delves into the memories, histories, experiences and influences of the
Afghan Whigs, most notably those driving Dulli, a polarizing frontman
whose fierce pretentiousness, GQ appearance and gloves-off
boisterousness concealed deep-rooted mental depression and chemical
dependency.
