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Postcards from the Pit: Empires / The Constant / Follower, 6/17/2011

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Empires, still the scrappy little band of my heart, won’t be on the cover of Rolling Stone this year. They are, however, on tour right now and may very well be coming to a tiny club near you sometime soon. And if you can make it out to see them, you should. I had the pleasure of catching up with them and also some promising local bands last Friday night.

The first opener was Follower, who are so new that this show was actually their second show ever. If the two songs I was able to hear were a reasonable representative sample, they play like a much more experienced band – tight, focused and powerful. Here is one of the three decent pictures I managed to take of them:

IMG_9163Follower

 

Next was The Constant, who are poppier than Follower and Empires, but yet are still definitely rock and roll, and also significantly grittier live than they are online:

IMG_9180The Constant

 

And then it was time for Empires. They started with The Night is Young, a song created during the whole Rolling Stone contest, and then powered through a set that included another song written for the RS contest (Hell’s Heroes) but was mostly a solid mix of  Bang and Howl and included I Want Blood, Damn Things Over, Hello Lover, Spit the Dark, I Know You Know, Voodooized and Bang.

It’s been a year or so since I saw Empires last, and I was once again entranced by the depth and richness of their sound, especially the blues at the core. To me they sound like the essence of certain aspects of Chicago: the stockyards, the sexy menace of mobsters in heavy coats and molls in sleek furs, speakeasies, the rumble of the El, and the snap in the air as snow falls on the mighty river.

These are the two best pictures from the evening:

 

IMG_9221Tom Conrad, intent on his chords

IMG_9218Sean Van Vleet

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Scott H. Biram in Cleveland

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Scott H. Biram is coming to the Grog Shop this Friday, June 24, and I am freaking excited. Even though it took me a while to sit down and listen to a Biram album, I knew from the first moment I heard of him that he was my kind of guy. A tattooed, foulmouthed, drankin’ Texan who amps up a mix of country, blues and punk and survived a collision with an 18-wheeler only to get back on stage a month later. (And that accident wasn’t any damn love tap, either.)

And his music?

 

 

Ho-lee…

Tickets are $8 advance, $10 the day of the show. Grog Shop doors open at 8 PM. Heelsplitter and Not So Good Ol’ Boys open.

And as much as I hate to wish ill on a hardworking musician, I’m kind of hoping Biram breaks a string Friday night so I can catch something like this in person.

 

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The Dad Horse Experience: Dead Babies Singing in the Sky

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“Like a dead dog on the highway…” sang an unmistakeably German voice. It was the kind of lisping German accent that my American ears associate with camp villains in bad movies. Then in came the banjo.

What?

“Like a dead dog, I’m hanging around,” the German voice continued singing over the quaint banjo melody. “Won’t you stop and pick me up? Dig me a deep hole in the ground.”

I was, to put it kindly, perplexed. What in the world was this? In my head, my conditioned American thoughts, banjo and heavy German accents did not belong together. But I kept listening, fascinated, compelled to find out what this was all about. And as unprepared as I was for the initial track, I was yet again thrown off balance by what the second track brought.

 

Kingdom It Will Come / THE DAD HORSE EXPERIENCE by dadhorse

 

Oh yes, there was definitely something worth investigating here. By the end of the album, I was smitten.

Dead Dog on a Highway is the second long player from the Dad Horse Experience, which consists mostly of a man who goes by the name Dad Horse Ottn. He sings while accompanying himself on banjo, keeping the rhythm on bass pedals and throwing in some occasional kazoo1, playing what he has dubbed keller (German for “cellar”) gospel. Keller gospel draws from an amazing range of influences from the simple and perfect country of Hank Williams, the gathered folk of the Carter Family and the outsider gospel of Washington Phillips to punk to polka. And it’s all filtered through one possibly deranged, definitely unique man who apparently didn’t begin playing music until he was 40.

Dead Dog on a Highway is a wunderkammer of an album that contains more treasures and obscure delights than I have the time and space to limn here. You’ll certainly find entertainment here and things to make you smile. You might also find a moment or two of fright. And perhaps, if you’re paying enough attention, you’ll find a song, a moment, that speaks directly to you.

You can get a download of the absolutely-worth-the-price-of-your-email-address “Tella Me, Lord” here at the Dad Horse website.

Dead Dog on a Highway is available from CD Baby, Amazon (US), Amazon (DE), iTunes and Flight 13.

 

The Dad Horse Experience Official Website

Dad Horse plays for Jesco White

 

1Kazoo is making a serious comeback, people. The Carolina Chocolate Drops and Daniel Knox have also made liberal use of the humble instrument.

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…And Wants to Be Free

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People often get the name of this blog wrong, especially on Twitter where I use the handle nowthissound. It makes me sad. Not because I feel it means the blog is not well-received but because it means people don’t know the source material. One of the reasons I call Joe Strummer the patron saint of this blog is because I took the name from the Clash. “This is Radio Clash” to be exact.

 

 

Though the biggest reason Joe is the patron saint is his life-long belief in the power of music and his joy in finding new and weird music and sharing it around. From his BBC radio series to his encouragement to “Go out and buy something weird today!” Joe kept an ear out for new sounds. The results could be heard from his early days with the 101ers, through the Clash and right on into the last Mescaleros album.

It’s that musical ideal, that desire to go out and find something great, no matter where it comes from, that I hope comes through on Now This Sound Is Brave. As the man sang, the stars go in, the stars go out, and punk rock’s what it’s all about.

 

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Rebirth of the Cool: Children of the Revolution

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Some artists are practically uncoverable, by virtue of wild technique, extreme virtuosity or uncompromising personality… but that never stops other artists from trying. Sometimes you just have to watch and shake your head as you watch trainwreck after trainwreck. Sometimes you weep and gnash your teeth. Sometimes it helps if you come in from the middle.

Aside from just being a great band, T. Rex had a larger-than-life personality, sprinkled with glitter and sex. Every T. Rex song was imbued with this personality, sonically represented by shake-your-ass beats and Marc Bolan’s suggestive vocals. Nobody has ever had quite the same sparkle and stomp.

 

 

Though if you want to talk bands with comparably unmistakable and inimitable personalities, there’s always the Violent Femmes. This is where I came into this song stream. Like many of my generation, the Femmes permeated my adolescence, for good or for ill, making me simultaneously queasy and excited. To this day, I still have unhealthy and confusing feelings about Gordon Gano (preacher’s kids will have that effect on people). On their album The Blind and the Naked, the Femmes had the gall to cover T. Rex’s “Children of the Revolution”. Well, maybe not so much covered as kidnapped and beat it until it was so broken and bruised that it barely resembled it’s original state (which is always the right way to do a cover, if you ask me).

 

 

There have been other attempts at covering “Children of the Revolution”, and most of them have ranged from forgettable to laughable (there is something so wrong and so right on about Bono singing “I drive a Rolls Royce because it’s good for my voice” on the Moulin Rouge soundtrack), but the cover from Neon Indian, while not everyone’s cuppa, feels faithful to the original cosmic sex shimmer of Bolan and his boys.

 

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We Believe in the Spirit of Rock and Roll: Cowboy Mouth / Jon Batiste Band / Sharon Little, High Line Ballroom, 6/9/11

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Among the many things happening in New York this month is the 30th Anniversary Blue Note Jazz Festival. While I have something of an allergy to jazz – the result of a traumatic smooth jazz experience early in life – but when I saw Cowboy Mouth among the show listings I couldn’t resist.

But first let me talk about the openers for a minute. Sharon Little, who is a tiny person with a big beautiful voice, was first up:

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Followed by the Jon Batiste Band:

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This is only a small fraction of the band; they actually took up almost the entire stage. And they were incredible. Highlights of their set include a jazz-funk rendition of These Are A Few of My Favorite Things, the piano melody shining like a bright beacon amid the horns and drums; a stomp-along funk-heavy Iko Iko; and a sweet sad St. James Infirmary gliding into a tight, focused Hi Di Ho,  Batiste conducting them so gracefully that it was almost invisible.

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And  then it was time for the main event. The one, the only, the joyful ruckus, Cowboy Mouth.

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If you have not seen them before, you should know that there are some things that are not optional at Cowboy Mouth shows, including: putting your hands in the air and waving and/or clapping, screaming, jumping up and down, and otherwise rocking the hell out. Also, they open and close every show by asking each member of the audience to hug the person next to them, whether it is a friend or a stranger. They are totally committed to raucous positivity, and their set was basically a 90 minute celebration of the joys (and sorrows, but mostly joys) of being alive. Their motto is, essentially, Life is too short, let’s rock and roll.

I am terrible with setlists but I know they played Belly, Voodoo Shop, It’s So Sad About Me, Tell the Girl, Everybody Loves Jill (complete with a hail of red plastic spoons), Take Me Back to New Orleans, they closed down with a mash-up of I Believe and Jenny Says, and the encore was The Avenue. There was also a new song, which may have been called Enough Drama. Other highlights included the band leading the crowd in  an Amen chorus for This Little Light of Mine; a spontaneous between-songs burst of Who Dat?, the New Orleans Saints fight song from somewhere in the center of the crowd; and a punk-rock version of Iko Iko.

It was truly an epic evening. Their next tour starts tomorrow, June 16th, in Greensboro, SC, and after that they will be spending several weeks wending their way through the South and portions of the Midwest. If they come near you, go and see them. It will be a good time.

A few more pictures:

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Fred LeBlanc, gleefully drumming.

IMG_9145John Thomas Griffith (piano) and Cassandra Faulconer (bass)

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Cassandra Faulconer (bass) and Matt Jones (guitar)

 

IMG_9150And one more of Fred LeBlanc and the fleur-de-lis

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The Mad Caps: Goin’ Down

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Sometimes I wish the internet had never been invented.1 If not for a certain internet search engine (and my insistence on checking it for verification), I could have been blissful in my ignorance, believing I had coined the term garage-a-billy to describe the sound of the Mad Caps. But no, the internet brought me swiftly to task for my ego folly.

But the internet also brought me the Mad Caps in the first place (thanks to a tip from a Twitter friend), so I can’t stay mad.

The Mad Caps are a two-man outfit from Las Vegas, Nevada – Ted Rader on guitar and vocals, Jon Real on drums – who churn out some rockabilly-esque twang with volume, distortion, dirt and swagger. Check out what I mean on “Rosie and the Wolfman”.

 

 

Rader’s hiccuping delivery on “Kitty Kitty” is like the spawn of a love union between Buddy Holly and Lux Interior.

 

 

And they get into a sexy groove that ends too soon on the short instrumental “Interkitchen”.

 

 

If you like it as dirty as a pair of sorority girl’s panties drug through a back alley, get over to Bandcamp and get the Mad Caps’ self-titled release now.

 

The Mad Caps @ Bandcamp

The Mad Caps @ Facebook

 

1This is patently false; my love for the internet is deep and carnal.

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The Dead Exs at the Bowery Electric, New York City, NY, 6.8.11

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We’re very pleased to have a guest review from our good friend @Popa2unes.

 

 

The Dead Exs release their CD – Resurrection, and it’s a party!

By @Popa2unes and DJ Knucklehead

Photos courtesy Kristin Viens

 

We wandered into the Bowery Electric and walked down the steep steps to the basement with water pouring down the pealing brick walls from the torrential downpour taking place outside. Large chrome lights dangled from the high black ceilings; it was dark, dank and perfect for what was about to take place: raw, fuzzy roots rock and blues. “The Dead Exs CD release Party.” We found a seat on one of the large Group W benches that surrounded the stage, and planted ourselves. There was a nice size, enthusiastic crowd Hipnik’s, Hipsters, Rockers, Hobohemians and an abundance of beautiful women. I love NYC.

Bang Bang Boogaloo recording artists, The Dead Exs are David Pattillo (henceforth DP) on electric slide guitar and vocals with Wylie Wirth on the skins.

 

 

The Dead Exs bring a multitude of influences to their music from Albert King to ZZ Top. Every song seems to have a bluesy familiarity to it, but is original in its writing, delivery and style; it’s just good ole Rock n Blues and I love it. Their live performance is like being invited into their home for a night of hanging around with friends.

They started the show with “Whole Lot of Nothing” with DP alone on the stage with his axe, working slow and steady building up to a powerful crescendo that brought everyone to full attention and the ladies out onto the dance floor. Then BAM! Out of nowhere Wylie crept into his seat to join in with a thunderous beat.

 

 

 

They played “All Over You”, “La Grange/Come Down Easy” and “Gone” with Mark Grandfield on harp. At the end of “Come Down Easy” they released the Kracken in an electric, sonic-guitar-harp- blob of fuzzion that nearly blew the roof off the place.

 

 

 

They were joined by Shane Bozza on vocals and Jimmy Caps on bass from The Dirty Glamor for three Rock scorchers: “No Way To Go But Up”, “Shut Up and Love Me” and “Till It’s Gone” – delighting the crowd even more. When Shane sang “Shut Up and Love Me” I found myself nodding my head yes, yes, yes! …and I lost my heart for the umpteenth time that night.

 

 

 

At times DP seemed to transform into Ganesh playing four guitars at once, wrenching more from the instrument than seems humanly possible. He snarls, growls, wails, and screams his way through every song in a way that can provoke the savage soul in any human.

 

 

Like a ghost blending into the background with the kaleidoscope images projecting on his spirit, Wylie sat at his kit and was a powerhouse of drum beats. He is a solid drummer with an effortless style, laying down hypnotic drumbeats, and then suddenly he’ll crash those skins like Jacob Marley shaking his chains in the middle of the night, shooting you out of your skin.

 

 

The Dead Exs show, that yes you can still play the Blues today and still be new and exciting. There are no rules; their sound is modern yet classic, ruff and primal. They are a Rock N’ Roll band that seem to take ques from all facets of music from Blues, to Soul, to Jazz, and tie it together in a dirty, nasty, raw mass of sonic nuts and bolts meant for only one thing: to knock you off your feet.

The Dead Exs – Resurrection can be purchased from iTunes or here.

 

The Dead Exs on Reverbnation

The Dead Exs on Facebook

 

Also on the bill were Only Living Boy, The Fieros and Golden Animals from the Bang Bang Boogaloo NY Rock and Roll Compilation 1, which you can download for free here, which I highly recommend you do.

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Whitey Morgan & the 78s in Cleveland

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I don’t usually like to use PR blurbs, but I couldn’t get it better than Bloodshot’s PR already has it on Whitey Morgan.

Outlaw’s always been the rough-around-the-edges, tuff guy uncle at the country music family picnic. Denim and leather, not Stetson and Nudie. Hair by Pennzoil, not Pomade. But, in the right hands—Haggard, Paycheck, Junior, Willie and Waylon and now Whitey Morgan—Outlaw is more than beards and bandanas, ink and attitude, it’s goddamn folk music. It’s about doing the best you can, about getting by and about cold beer and colder women—everything that keeps the honky tonks full on a Saturday night. It’s about standing up when it’d just be easier to fall down.

Coming from Flint MI, the always forgotten civic little brother to Motown but no less a hard town with empty factories and emptier prospects, loaded Whitey Morgan & the 78’s with that survivors’ f.u. mentality. The self-titled debut Bloodshot album was recorded at Levon Helm’s studio in Woodstock NY, and while their antecedents are pretty clear, Whitey and the boys play with a muscular attack and energy that makes us think they HAD to learn to play it that way to be heard over the din of the stamping plant and its ghosts.

 

Here’s a taste of what Whitey does.

 

 

 

You can see Whitey Morgan & the 78s at the Beachland Tavern tonight for a 10-spot. Doors at 8, show at 9. Jason Patrick Meyers, Robbie Jay Band and Guggy’s Rock-n-Roll Party 101 open.

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Roosters on the Porch

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The Imperial Rooster returns to the porch where we first found them during Couch By Couchwest. Well, clearly, they were on the porch while the rest of us were on the collective couch. But we were all drunk, and that’s what matters.

The Imperial Rooster is going to sing you into the weekend with a selection of songs from their new album, Decent People. When you’re left wanting more, you can click that Bandcamp link at the end of the post and get you more.

 

Anything Goes At A Rooster Show (Rooster Anthem)

 

Korhn Sirup Sundae

 

McGinty’s

 

The Imperial Rooster @ Bandcamp

The Imperial Rooster @ Facebook