Within the first note of a Justin Burgess record, I can tell it’s undeniably him. He has a signature high register; the same one that floored me the first time I heard it in my teens when Justin was performing at The Harb…or The Darkside…I can’t quite remember where it was, but I remember him.
At the time I didn’t know his history as a performer, but he had the mystique of someone who had just stepped off a full-scale tour bus. Not the “where’s my red M&M’s” vibe, but the energy of someone who was born to make rock music.
Speaking to his musical instincts, you can feel that Burgess is someone who knows when and how to trust his gut. As I dig into his latest record Love Machine on a rainy day, I find myself smiling.
I’m smiling because I’m feeling something I long for in a record, but rarely get. It’s fresh.
Not ‘fresh’ as in the buzzword. Fresh, as in the sound of someone who has followed their creative voice, the one that tells them to create in the first place.
On track one, Mary Ann, there’s a tension between a syncopated 80s drum machine and vocals that feel reminiscent of Billy Corgan’s production. The build to the chorus is satisfying and as Justin sings “Mary Ann, you know I love you,” I can feel the solo approaching. The guitar is simple yet serves the track; the layered vocals add welcome intrigue.
“Can I get a little love from you? Do you want a little love from me?” he sings as a bouncing acoustic piano sets the stage for a Coconut Records-esque scene in That’s Rock ‘n’ Roll. Later, through classic riffage, he leans into something spirited, inventive, and indicative of what’s to come.
Morality is a testament to Burgess’ creative stamina. This track showcases writing that sets an artist apart. Often, I hear songwriters pick lines like low-hanging fruit. The predictability takes you out of the moment. With Justin, the opposite is true and as each next line surprises me, my faith is restored. He sings “The flies are in the ointment, now the cats are awake, they say the bread is buttered, they say the bed is made” and I immediately need to learn more.
He makes you work for it, but the protest at the heart of the song is clear. He sings “they call it their morality, they think it gives them power over you and me…I say have your mind and eat it too,” which is a refreshingly peculiar way of naming the grip authority can have on our freedoms.
Burgess is not someone who’s afraid to experiment. His playfulness defies a single sound or genre. Influences of yacht rock in the vocals, flashes of hair metal and grunge; the record may be rock, but it’s far more expansive than that.
In the latter half of Love Machine, Burgess shifts from the vulnerable ache of Single Malt Love Song to the bass-driven devotion of Cassiopeia Shining; and the intricacies of romance in Go Free.
The final track on the record begins with an acoustic riff that reels everything in. Birds chirp as Justin sings – with the kind of sincerity that can only be conveyed in plain words: “I’d never felt this way…like I knew you, I knew…I’m gonna marry you. You’re gonna marry me. We’re gonna live together as a family.”
Since losing streaming income to legal changes, Justin removed his music from all services in 2010. However, he never stopped receiving messages from around the world calling for his music. Feeling reinspired, he re-mixed every album and started re-releasing them in 2021.
Love Machine was created from a collection of B-sides that were written 20 years ago. To Justin, this record represents love, spirituality, and a side of him he’d not yet delved into. The album was mastered by Grammy-Winning musician Michael White and can be found everywhere you stream music and at Justinburgessmusic.com.
Written by Marshall Veroni
