Ten Mark Lanegan songs

Mark Lanegan died a year ago. I’m still bummed about it. 

This guy pumped out records throughout the 2000s and 2010s. His death left a void in my record collection, as he seemed to drop 2-3 records a year with his own group or collaborations with artists like Duke Garwood or Isobel Campell. 

But the glut of Lanegan material has vanished. Here are 10 non-Screaming Trees songs I would heartily recommend. Lanegan had many moods, and these songs cover some of them. 

Long Gone Day
Lanegan cameoed on Above, the long release of Seattle supergroup Mad Season, and the moody Long Gone Day finds him dueting with Alice in Chains lead singer Layne Staley. But this track finds two of the best vocalists from the 1990s Seattle scene harmonizing together, which they do wonderfully. They sing over a claustrophobic jazz backdrop, with saxophone and primitive percussion propelling the beat. A follow-up involving Lanegan replacing the drug-addled Staley got a few tracks in before it was scuttled, and those tracks are worth hearing. 

When it’s in You
Taken from Lanegan’s Houston Publishing Demos, When It’s In You is a mellow, embryonic version of Methamphetamine Blue that I find much more likable than the clanking, dirty track that became a Lanegan favorite (he closed his show with Methamphetamine Blues the only time I saw him live in 2019).

This Lullaby
Lanegan was a full-time member of Queens of the Stone Age on Songs for the Deaf, but his most memorable moment on followup Lullabies to Paralyze came on the stark opening track, which is just Lanegan and some acoustic guitarwork from frontman Josh Homme. 

Who Built the Road? (with Isobel Campbell)
I could probably pick 10 tracks from the three collaborative albums Lanegan did with one-time Belle and Sebastian cellist Isobel Campbell. The orchestration and mix of the two disparate voices on this record made them a 21st century Nancy Sinatra and Lee Hazelwood. Lanegan was not fond of those albums because they were work-for-hire to reestablish him as an artist. But there is some genuine artistry throughout all three. 

You Won’t Let Me Down Again (with Isobel Campbell)
The last of the Campbell albums with never felt like the well was running dry. In fact, Hawk produced some great songs that soundtracked a drive I took across Montana from Yellowstone to Glacier in September 2010. I always regret missing this tour since it was not something that would ever be repeated. This song especially shows the give and take that he and Campbell could offer in a song, with the strengths of both apparent. His ragged vocals ran into her whispery tones and they always felt like a strong it. 

Harborview Hospital (from Blues Funeral)
For the record, Lanegan did not die at Harboview Hospital. When you write about healthcare for a living, there aren’t many songs that mention your work. But Harborview Hospital (now Harborview Medical Center) is Seattle’s safety-net hospital, and it seems likely material for someone like Lanegan, with a long history with drugs and living in central Seattle. 

Pentacostal (from Black Pudding, with Duke Garwood)
I was tempted to see Lanegan as pumping out music too freely, but his collaboration with British multi-instrumentalist Duke Garwood showed that each release had its own merit. Black Pudding, their first collaboration, might be my favorite Lanegan record overall. After a brief acoustic instrumental opening, Pentacostal shows that Lanegan is up to something different when teamed with Garwood. 

One Way Glass (from With Animals, with Duke Garwood)
That we got two Lanegan-Garwood albums seems like a miracle now. The second one does not always rise to the level of the first, but One Way Glass remains a song I cannot shake. As Lanegan repeatedly croons “Something lonelier than death,” I find the song impossible to shake. Were there only a third collaboration with Garwood. 

Old Swan (from Gargoyle)
Lanegan almost sounds positive on this album closer from 2017, even when belting lines like “Though my soul is not worth saving.” The song cruises on his lyrics for six-plus minutes. 

Night Flight to Kabul (from Somebody's Knocking)
Continually asking “Is it cold, is it cold in Kabul?” I wonder what Lanegan might have thought about the Afghanistan’s capital falling back to the Taliban. It immediately jumped at me when I first heard Somebody’s Knocking, years before that happened. But his mention of suicide vests makes me wonder. Like everything with Mark Lanegan, there's no way to know anymore.