Ryan Gustafson

As frontman of Chapel Hill’s Boxbomb, Ryan Gustafson spent six years devising moody, melodic modern rock fashioned after Radiohead and Smashing Pumpkins. Though the quartet signed with Tragic Hero Records and flirted with regional success, the band never fully materialized, so Gustafson struck out alone. Few would have guessed that Donkey—his solo debut, recorded with members of the Drughorse Collective—would be one of the finest local releases of 2009. 

On his own, Gustafson ditches the alt-rock vibe of Boxbomb, instead sharing Drughorse’s penchant for tunes of a vintage feel and succeeding at just about everything he tries. Donkey is at once unified yet wildly kaleidoscopic:  From writing like an American-born Noel Gallagher—influenced as much by Tom Petty as The Beatles—on wide-open, windows-down rockers (“Soul Train,” “Don’t Sell Your Soul”) to making rustic roots pop (“Sudden Sadness,” “Gold Rush”) as gently gorgeous as anything Ryan Adams has done in years, Gustafson imparts his knack for arena-sized hooks on tunes dosed variably with classic rock, pop, soul, Americana and even psychedelia. Lyrically, Gustafson’s no lightweight either, offering up reflections on life and ruminations on existence:  “I don’t want to be a god, but I’m tired of being a man,” he agonizes on “Headlights.” 

With various configurations of his Drughorse cronies forming an all-star live band that typically features violin, pedal steel and organ, Gustafson keeps good company. As well he should—his dazzling songs definitely deserve it. —Spencer Griffith