Friday, March 15, 2024

DeWolff, with Silveroller - Voodoo Rooms, Edinburgh, 14 March 2024

“In a statement tonight, the police have warned members of the public about an outbreak of flared trousers in the Edinburgh area. They say the issue seems to have been imported from the Netherlands by the Dutch rock group DeWolff, but has quickly spread to encompass the young British band Silveroller. More information will be available in due course.”
Crackerjack Pablo van de Poel
BLAM!
“Hello Edinburgh!”
BLAM!
“We are DeWolff, and we have come all the way here tonight to ask you something!”
BLAM!
“Are you ready to rock’n’roll?”
BLAM!
“Are you ready . . .
BLAM!
“ . . . for the NIGHT TRAIN?”
 
The roared response makes it clear that the healthy crowd here tonight – me included - are all on board the DeWolff musical locomotive, and ready for a magical mystery tour that smashes together blues-rock, super bad James Brown funk, gospel ecstacy, snippets of jazzy fusion, and sweet soul music.
And so we’re all off on the ‘Night Train’, an original from their album Love, Death & In Between mark you, and not a cover of the Godfather’s tune.  And believe you me, the trio are kicking ass from the outset.  Guitarist and singer Pablo van de Poel is a jack-in-the box front man, delivering some face melting guitar (well, it certainly looks like it’s melting his face), while his Robin Piso sets about wrenching the guts out of his Hammond organ, and younger brother Luka van de Poel is giving his drum kit a right-in-the-pocket hammering, and adding on-the-nose vocal harmonies on a regular basis.
‘Heart Stopping Kinda Show’ lives up to its title, not least because it is a totally banging soul tune straight outta Memphis, though it’s also ramped up by a short and sharp blast of organ soloing and a screaming wah-wah solo from Pablo, who also embarks on a mid-song bout of infectiously
Harmonious drummer Luka van de Poel
hammy patter about how this is about more than the show they’re putting on, but about the choices we make that make life worth it – like coming out in the pouring rain on a Thursday night to see this gig.  These guys don’t take themselves too seriously, as their very 70s embroidered brown outfits attest, all flares and aeroplane collars.
They cool things things off with ‘Will O’The Wisp’, a chilled blues with filigrees of jazzy guitar and organ, and some falsetto soul vocals en route to a swirling organ interlude that’s not so much psychedelic as the Phantom of the Opera – and no, I don’t mean Iron Maiden, or Andrew Lloyd bleedin’ Webber either.
‘Tired Of Loving You’ is a dynamic blues ballad that takes in a lengthy, now and then classically tinged guitar showcase until Pablo wigs out good and proper and they head down the highway propelled by a surge of hair-flailing organ that Brother Robin then dials down into a soul-classical mash-up en route to a bone-crunching finale.
They take another detour with the 70s style funky blues rock of ‘Double Crossing Man’, before letting loose with a throbbing, gristly riff on ‘R U My Saviour?’.  DeWolff don’t sound much, if anything like The Who, but on songs like this there’s a similar Pop Artiness sensibility in the electrified air I reckon – at least until they put the hammer down with a spell of hectic guitar/organ interplay. Does this sound a bit like those other Dutch masters Focus? Well yes, it does a bit. Just a little. Sorta.
But before we have time to dwell on that they’re cueing up ‘Treasure City Moon Child’, with a
Study in brown Robin Piso
strutting start featuring some Santana-like guitar tones before it explodes into three-piece havoc of pummelling hard rock.  There’s still light and shade though, including a scat singalong led by drummer Luka, a nod to Little Richard’s ‘Keep A’Knockin’’, and ultimately a scorching guitar/organ face-off before they take their leave.
At this point it would be fair to say that DeWolff have gone down a storm with the assembled throng.  Except they’re not done yet, oh no.  For an encore they uncork a 20-plus minute version of their multi-section soul rock suite ‘Rosita’, into which they chuck the kitchen sink, the taps, and all the crockery within reach. There are swooning soul sounds, southern rock guitar inflections, Latino flavourings, and a whole of gospellation peaking in a hands in the air walkabout by Pablo, delivering a jittering testament to the “Mighty Power Of Love” (back in 2019 Pablo witnessed a sermon by the Rev Al Green in Memphis), all culminating in a manic, howling guitar promenade in which he stretches his corkscrew guitar to the limit. To encore with this magnum opus might seem like a daring, high risk gambit, but by the time they’re done there are Cheshire Cat grins all around the room.
Once upon a time there was an Aussie band called Mental As Anything. I can’t tell you a damn
thing about what they sounded like, but I can tell you that DeWolff deserve to inherit that mantle. In the best possible way.
 
Jonnie Hudson struts his front man stuff
Oh yeah, there was a support band too, by the way – and Silveroller garnered plenty of cheers for their half hour set.  They serve up a meaty starter of British blues rock with opener ‘Black Crow’, featuring a taut riff, pistoning Hammond organ, and skelping drums.  Then singer Jonnie Hodson whips out a harmonica for the bluesier rocking groove of ‘Trouble Follows Me’, with Aaron Keylock adding slippery slide to the crunching chords.
Hodson, with his shaggy hair, scarf and flares – I did warn you – is a strutting, mic-stand waving front man of the old school, to the point where I half-expect him to announce “’Ere’s a song for ya!”, but in a Scouse accent.  The thing is, he carries this off effortlessly, and looks destined to play bigger stages.
As do Silveroller as a whole, I should emphasise, as they deliver some mighty appealing material in fine style. ‘Ways Of Saying’ changes gear from a blue ballad intro into raucous rock’n’roll recalling the Faces, while ‘Other Side’ opens with gritty slide playing from Keylock and suggests Bad Company getting good and heavy, with bubbling bass from Jake James Cornes and whacking drums from Joe Major bringing a bucket of groove.  There’s soulfulness in ‘Come On, Come In’, and Keylock weighs in with a properly blues-rocking solo. But they kick things up to another level with the crackling closer ‘Hold’ and its turbo-charged riffing, plus a wild organ solo from Ross Munro, who sounds like he’s passed a Diploma in Jon Lord-ism with flying colours.
Silveroller look and sound like the real deal to me.  They’re bright and fun, and whatever their influences they still have their own sound, while Hodson and Keylock have a bit of a Glimmer Twins brothers-in-arms thing going on. Go see ‘em ASAP, and make up your own mind.

Thursday, March 14, 2024

The Wicked Lo-Down - Out Of Line

I’ll say this right out of the gate. The Wicked Lo-Down are not here to change your life.  But they are here to show you a rabble-rousing damn good time.  I mean shit, you’ve gotta love a band who take Britney Spears’ ‘Toxic’ and turn it into the kind of slurring, woozy, accusatory grind it was always meant to be.  Yes, you read that right.
The Wicked Lo-Down are based in New England, and to these ears their brand of Chicago blues is infused with a spirit similar to those other rock’n’rollin’ New Englanders the J.Geils Band, before they got all glossy with their 80s hit ‘Centerfold’.  As soon as they get let off the leash here, with ‘Kill Me Or Keep Me’, we’re talking about harp-wailing, guitar-jangling chugga-boogie, with some ear-bending blues guitar to get you on the edge of your seat.  And by the time you get
Paul Size and Nick David get wicked
to ‘Out Of Line’ itself, with its hard-charging, competing guitars over a crisp beat, your butt should be well and truly outta that seat.  With a clever bridge that they let loose a couple of times just because – well, why not? – and a rollicking guitar solo from the guesting Mike Zito, it packs a fair amount of goodies into less than four minutes.
The tunes are good too.‘Marchin’ On’ finds David squawking away enthusiastically that “Nobody gets out alive, keep marchin’ on” over churning guitar from Paul Size and his six-string buddy Jeff Berg, amid the emphatic, solid but swinging rhythm section of Brad Hallen on bass and drummer Nick Toscano - who also likes to give a cymbal a good whack on a regular basis. Meanwhile ‘Action Woman’ is driving, pounding and urgent, with David making it damn clear he wants an “action woman, a satisfaction woman” as if when the Stones sang “I can’t get no satisfaction” they didn’t have a goddamn clue what desperation was.
Paul Size – where have I heard that name before?  Oh yeah, he played with those cult blues heroes The Red Devils.  And so here we have ‘The Wildest One (Lester’s Boogie)’, a fitting tribute to the Devils’ wild man singer and harp player Lester Butler. It’s nagging, insistent and raucous, with singer Nick David referencing Red Devils song titles in a bullet mic-distorted vocal, and blasting out a howling harp solo, natch.
They dial things down in the middle, with the slow blues of ‘If I’, which has a touch of ‘I Put A Spell On You’ about it, but with a mood that’s guitar-twinkling lonesome rather than possessive. ‘Dime Store Darling’ is easy-going and melodic in a Dave Edmunds and Rockpile kinda way, with a nifty twiddly turnaround and a catchy as hell chorus. But the mid-paced ‘You Don’t Know Me’ is a slice of less juicy fat that could have been trimmed.
They get back on track down the straight though. ‘Vanna Be’ is a sock-it-to-ya rock’n’rolling instrumental, with wasp-in-a-jar buzzing guitar from Size, and Hallen’s bass bopping like a noddy dog on speed.  ‘Put Up With You’ is from a different bucket of blues, with its low-twanging guitar and pattering rhythm, while David groans away about having discovered that “I don’t have to put up with you” in dark and bitter tones that suggests you shouldn’t believe a word of it. Then closing track ‘I Just Can’t Make It’ is an affectionate slap around the chops to say good night - hard-riffing and slide-scything, over clattering drums and pneumatic drill bass.
The Wicked Lo-Down sound like the house band in some club where the walls are sweating and you’re part of a well-oiled crowd that’s bouncing to some good rockin’ tonite. They may not be world-beaters, but you’re still going to pick up a copy of Out Of Line at the merch stall on the way out. Damn right you are.
 
Out Of Line
 is out now on Gulf Coast Records.

Tuesday, March 12, 2024

AEGTESKAB - AEGTESKAB

I don’t much like referring to PR bumf in reviews, but in this case it’s worth mentioning that AEGTESKAB, the trio of Danish musos Eddi Jarl (drums), Mike Andersen (guitar and vocals) and Michael Bilcher (sax and bass) apparently constitutes a “supergroup”.  Well, maybe in Copenhagen, though I have to say I’ve never heard of any of ‘em.  But here’s the thing – that’s all irrelevant.  Quite simply, this is a remarkable album.
Opening track ‘How Do You Do It’ combines tip-tapping drums and minimalist acoustic strumming, while Bilcher’s smouldering baritone sax drifts in and out of a motif before Andersen picks up with an immaculate, plaintive vocal on a simple, gorgeous melody.  And then some luminous electric guitar falls out of the heavens, flickering and pulsing to add a whole other
Mike Andersen, Eddi Jarl and Michael Blicher - a marvellous ménage à trois of talents
Pic by Rasmus Bundgaard

dimension, while Jarl gradually shifts the percussion into more syncopated mode, quite possibly using a cajón.  It really is something else – and they're only getting started.
If I say that there are echoes of Sean Costello to tracks such as ‘My Long Time Lover’, ‘Out Of My Head’ and ‘Waste Of Time’, the thought is prompted mostly by the fact that vocally Andersen is frequently a dead ringer for Costello – though their blues and soul sensibilities are also worthy of the comparison, even if their sound is a world away in execution.  ‘My Long Time Lover’ opens with a halting guitar refrain, and then ambles along at a mind-bogglingly slow tempo, with little going on beyond a simple beat, low moans of sax, and a wonderful, reflective vocal.  Call it soul, call it blues, call it the Great American Songbook for all I care, it’s evocative stuff, suddenly illuminated by flutters of bluesy guitar, while Bilcher adds some singular sax playing.  For me there’s a real vibe of Costello’s ‘Cuttin’ In’ to ‘Out Of My Head’, with its funereal beat, late night jazzy sax, and a perfectly pitched go-slow blues guitar solo by Andersen. And ‘Waste Of Time’, with its handclaps and sax intro, is soulful and swinging – once again, slowly.  There’s tickling guitar over a skipping rhythm, and a bloody marvellous guitar break complemented by jittery, St Vitus Dance drums from Jarl.
They explore some different avenues too though, as on the two minutes’ worth of twitchy modern soul on ‘Checking Out’, with its sax riffing and a simple beat that lands in the perfect place and then trips itself up to create a groove, embellished by a bright, danceable instrumental section. ‘This Morning’ is spikier fare, with tense, ticking guitar and a doomy, kinda martial rhythm interrupted by chunky sax and guitar chords, while a grumpy Andersen agitatedly demands that “If you no longer love me, for god’s sage say it out loud,” before embarking on a squealing, discordant, but still restrained solo. (It’s worth knowing that “aegteskab” is Danish for “marriage”, and that, ironically, two of the three band members went through marriage break-ups around the time the trio came together.)
There are a couple of instrumentals in different styles too. ‘Laura Lee’ introduces curious synthy beeps’n’bleeps’n’beats, while Andersen lays out some fluid guitar that, with sazy echoes in the background, could be Mark Knopfler performing some ‘Private Investigations’, except, well, it isn’t.  ‘Headlights’ is more moody, a sax-led jazzy affair with prickling guitar that doesn’t seem to have the resonance of other tunes – until 3 minutes in when it all goes a bit ‘In The Air Tonight’ with clanging chords and thunderous peals of drums.
That slow and sensitive vibe is the backbone of the album though. ‘World Gone Wrong’ is sad and elegiac, with Andersen singing “Meet me there when we transcend this world gone wrong” in another perfectly pitched vocal, and Bilcher adds a contemplative, spaced out sax interlude. And album closer ‘The Storm’ paints a picture in slow, slow, no quick slow fashion, with Andersen delivering a languorous, sparse guitar solo over rising drums to signal the impending storm, whether literal or emotional.
So they may not really be a “supergroup”, but hell’s bells these guys are imaginative, distinctive, and seriously talented. And in AEGTESKAB they’ve produced a really, really good album. What more can I say? Go give it a spin and see what you make of it yourself.
 
AEGTESKAB
 is out now, and can be ordered here.

Friday, March 8, 2024

The Bonnevilles, with Mudlow - Legends, Edinburgh, 7 March 2024

Lately I’ve been exploring some raunchy sounds and bands. Unadorned stuff. Retro stuff, some of it. The punk road less travelled, a bit. Honest kinda stuff. And when The Bonnevilles get on stage and crack into the plunging rhythm and ringing guitar of ‘Machine Born To Think’, those lines converge to a fiery point.
They fairly thrash away at ‘Good Suits’, smashing Chris McMullan’s clattering drums into scything slide playing and distorted vocals from Andy McGibbon, who channels the tumult in kinetic style. Oh yeah, and I like his emphatic grunt of  - “Wheugh!” - punctuation too.
The Bonnevilles - getting down to business and channelling the tumult

With their white shirts and black ties, top buttons undone and shirt sleeves rolled up above the elbow, they look like a couple of fellas ready to get down to business at a post-funeral booze-up, and there is indeed some very Irish to-ing and fro-ing banter between them now and then. But with a hard curfew of 10pm they’re not inclined to waste time.
There’s more to them than just feral punkishness though, as ‘Long Runs The Fox’ demonstrates, with a strong, ear-catching tune driving through the maelstrom of stop-time riffing, swoops of slide guitar, and McGibbon’s hoarse, rat-a-tat vocals.  They throw some different ingredients into the mix with the staccato riff and falsetto vocal of ‘Reflex Liar’, then ‘Dirty Photographs’ manages to bring some soul inflections to their garage rock sensibilities. On songs like these I hear a lot of early Black Keys in their sandpaper-rough blues grooves, which is right up my street whatever their own direct influences may be.
‘My Dark Heart’ is an upbeat, shake, rattle’n’shuffling animal, albeit with a downbeat bridge to add some dynamics.  Then they unveil new song ‘Awaken From Slumber’ – “ripped off Scott H. Biram", McGibbon says.  Biram’s name is only vaguely familiar to me, but given he’s known as an exponent of both punk and outlaw country, it’s maybe not surprising that ‘. . . Slumber’ sounds like nothing so much as a slice of galloping, hurtling Western swing in ragged, punkish garb.  Their take on ‘Parchment Farm’, though, is a pummelling, driven thing that has more in common with the Blue Cheer version than Mose Allison, crashing its way down a rock’n’roll strewn canyon on the way to a coordinated assault of an ending.
McGibbon introduces ‘Panakromatic’ as “Junior Kimbrough meets Flann O’Brien’s The Third Policeman” – a novel which is indeed, as he says, a bit like purgatory on acid.  Well, the Junior Kimbrough vibe is certainly there in the repetitive, juddering riff – “Wheugh!” – which here gets
Mudlow - groove-digging darkness
extended into a scuzzily insistent groove, en route to the Diddley-esque rhythm of the set closer ‘10’000’, which is infectious enough to have a group of women start dancing.   And who can blame ‘em?  This lean, fighting fit set by The Bonnevilles is just what the doctor ordered.
Brighton trio Mudlow are a very good fit to partner The Bonnevilles on this tour, taking some similar influences and heading off at their own tangent with them.  I arrive just as they're getting going with ‘Flesh And Blood’, which sounds like the moody overture to some Tom Waits jukebox musical, all brushed drums, rumbling bass and pinpricked guitar.  But they pick up the pace a bit on ‘So Long Lee’, whipping it good while guitarist Tobias Tester, seated on his stool, blends picking and strumming in singular, plectrum-free style.
They continue to mix up light and shade throughout their set, from the grinding, gutbucket boogie of ‘Codename Toad’, through ‘Drunken Turkey’ with maraca-infused drumming from Matt Latcham, spiky guitar, and comical turkey gobbling noises, to ‘Lower Than Mud’ with Tester’s growling, cackling vocal over a dirty, lipsmacking groove.
‘Crackling’ is atmospheric and crepuscular over restrained snare drum tapping from Latcham, and ‘Red Ribbon’ is a very Waits-ian sleazy noir tale about getting shot in the stomach.
They finish up with a medley of ‘Further Down The Road’ and ‘Red Rock’, centering on a blisteringly grimy solo from Tester over increasingly animated drums, while poker faced bassist Paul Pascoe gets down and gets with it like an agitated stick insect.  Mudlow are never going to be big stars, but catch ‘em live if you can for a groove-digging, unsettling spin through the darkness on the edge of town.
 
The Bonnevilles and Mudlow continue their Age Of Monsters tour until 17 March, details here.

Thursday, March 7, 2024

Bex Marshall - Fortuna

A funny thing happened when I first came to listen to Fortuna – the running order of my download copy was all wrong.  This, in fact, turned out to be a good thing, because it meant my first exposure to Bex Marshall was track 4 on her latest album, ‘5AM’, an atmospheric blues ballad that she delivers with considerable style. Marshall may not be a singer in the class of her heroine Tina Turner, but she’s still expressive, and her smoky voice is perfect for the early hours heartbreak vibe of the song. And expressive is the right word for her guitar work too, from the subtle remarks that capture the mood with an undertow of organ colourings, to the fluid solo that she delivers with superb tone.  Lovely stuff – albeit in the wrong place.
In fact Fortuna is an emporium well-stocked with appealing goodies.  Sassier fare comes along
Bex Marshall - here's looking at you, girl.
Pic by Blackham Images
in the form of ‘I Can’t Look You In The Eye’ and ‘Lay Down N Die’, the former a bump’n’grind outing with some ear-catching interleaved guitar from Marshall on slide and the guesting Scott Coopwood, and the latter a grittily rocking tale of determination with a neat riff and a fizzing guitar solo to close.
There are shades of Clapton in JJ Cale mode in a couple of places.  Well, maybe.  ‘Fortuna’ itself is a brisk instrumental that provides a showcase for some entertaining Texas bluesy guitar, with extra percussion and a couple of tumbling bridges adding to the fun.  ‘Jungle’ is a bright and breezy shuffle, with a fun conversational vocal, jangling piano from Toby Baker, and some fittingly fun slide playing from Marshall.  And the closing ‘When It’s Gone’ is similarly free’n’easy, acoustically based but with added Dobro seasoning courtesy of BJ Cole to go with some suitably Spring-like acoustic soloing from Marshall.
Other favourites include the ‘Dirty Water’, with its subtle organ and slinky vocal intro, progressing to nifty, tastefully toned guitar licks counterpointing Marshall’s occasionally quivering voice, and an easy groove to underpin some expressive – there’s that word again – soloing, with some congas from Danny Bryan adding a Latin flavour to the mix.  ‘Scrapyard Dog’ may be a tad overlong, but it hits the mark too.  It's a languid underdog tale, with a delightfully woozy guitar motif, a bundle of amusing lyrical metaphors, and a sparkling guitar solo.
The opening ‘Preaching To The Choir’ is a grower, with a loose and lazy rhythm perked up by bubbling bass and a neat piano groove.  ‘Table For One’ is a relaxed, but smart and saucy statement of intent from a woman who’s happy to dine alone - all wry lyrics, hip-swaying groove and rinky-dink ivories.
Now, I’m not saying you’ll get socked in the jaw by the brilliance of Fortuna.  But I am very much saying that these songs are delivered not just with satisfying arrangements and musicianship, but with charm and a plenty engaging air of poise and balance, showing off all concerned in a good light, most certainly including Bex Marshall and her – yes, I’ll say it again - expressive singing and guitar work.  Nicely played Bex.
 
Fortuna is available now on Dixiefrog Records, and can be ordered here.

Monday, March 4, 2024

Quickies - Silveroller, Black Cat Bone, and Today Was Yesterday

Okay readers, it’s time to catch up on three new releases in different flavours, ranging from British blues-rock to sleazy rock’n’roll to some new prog that features Alex Lifeson of Rush as a guest.
 
Silveroller – At Dawn EP
 
Well, this is fun. Old-fashioned kinda fun, sticking on Silveroller’s new 6-track EP and hearing echoes of British rock from the early Seventies reverberating down the ages.
But Silveroller aren’t some bunch of greybeards who’ve assembled to churn out the same old same old.  No, they’re a young,  gallus five-piece doing their own thing and doing it in ear-catchingly good fashion.  All the same, when they whack into 'Black Crow', with its stick-and-
Silveroller - cheer up lads!
move riff and some blaring organ from Ross Munro, it feels like some Purple-ish musical paint has been splashed around.
But they’re not copyists of anyone, as the following ‘Hold’ demonstrates, with its crisp drums and a gutsy, fuzzy riff that’s chased along by the organ, paving the way for the strong, confident vocals of Johnnie Hodson, which do plenty to establish their distinctive personality.  Oh yeah, and a neat drop down into an organ break providing some light and shade then crashes into an all-action guitar solo from Aaron Keylock, a one-time youthful solo artist who sounds much more at home in this band setting.
There are more dynamics evident in ‘Ways Of Saying’, which combines downbeat verses – nicely piano-dappled on the second time around - with a pounding chorus full of jabbing chords, and some fizzing guitar work.  And by now another pleasing aspect of the Silveroller identity is coming over: they sound very British. They may listen to the Black Crowes, but when they do rootsy rock’n’roll of their own it leans towards Faces-like rough and tumble, underlined by some shoutalong backing vocals.
They go up and down through the gears smoothly on ‘Turn To Gold’ with its sweetly melodic intro, satisfying harmonies, and rootsy guitar break en route to a dramatic crescendo on which Joe Major earns his drum-thrashing corn.  Keylock shows off some buzzsaw slide guitar on ‘Other Side’, to go with a bustling riff and suspenseful Morse Code-like bridge, and another emphatic Hodson vocal.  Then they close with ‘Come On, Come In’, with a bluesy intro before some whacking guitar ramps it up into demi-epic mode. Keylock cracks out another impressive solo too, and the song glides soulfully to a close with an outro carrying echoes of Etta James and ‘I’d Rather Go Blind’.
Fingers crossed that this first release doesn’t turn out to be a false dawn, because with quality writing, smart arrangements and bang-on delivery, Silveroller are mint-fresh and show bags of promise.

The At Dawn EP is out now, and can be ordered here.
 
 
Black Cat Bone – Tales Of The Amplified
 
Anyone who responded positively to previous examples of Black Cat Bone’s greasy, grungy rumble’n’roll is going to be happy with the likes of ‘Shake It’ and ‘Freak Machine’ on their new album.  The former kicks off with interstellar warbling noises, but with its grinding riff and Ewan Mackenna’s subterranean bass it’s definitely more to do with dark matter than starlight.  The latter is is driven by rolling, thumping drums from Kai Wallace and ringing guitar from Jamie
Black Cat Bone - they like it subterranean
Beaton, and conjures up hints of the Yardbirds with its anthemic backing vocals and, after a breather in the middle, an explosive rave-up segment. And with its trampolining riff, interrupted by siren-like bursts of guitar and wails of harp, ‘Loose Juice’ is also emphatic fare, like roaring down the highway on the back of a Harley, until rather too soon it somewhat fizzles out.
But there are outbreaks of subtlety evident elsewhere.  The opening ‘Undertone’ opens with a piano refrain, courtesy of the guesting Andy Barbour, and if it develops into a mid-paced chug it’s still moody rather than turbo-charged, even though the guitar and Ross Craig’s harp get a bit anguished.  But ‘Let It Breathe’ is even more startling, a long, romantic swoon of a song even with the grit of Craig’s croaking vocals.  It’s not a one-off either, as ‘Pick Yourself Up’ is another slowie, a simple song with a dreamy, Achtung Baby vibe, right down to Craig’s aching voice.
The closing combination of ‘Blue For You’ and ‘Whoa’ pull in different directions.  ‘Blue For You’ starts off rootsy, with low key sprinkles of guitar over restrained drums, but then changes gear for the chorus thanks to some slamming guitar chords from Beaton.  ‘Whoa’ is a trippier kinda animal, a hypnotic, fuzzy riff occasionally overlaid with slide guitar remarks, while Craig’s vocal is a moaning, mantra-like repetition of the title until the track slowly fades out.
So yeah, BCB’s trademark grimy rock’n’roll is still the backbone of Tales Of The Amplified, but there are also some more mind-expanding explorations that go well with the Hipgnosis-like album cover.  Still not music for meditation though!
 
Tales Of The Amplified is available digitally now, and will be released on vinyl and CD on 5 April.
 
 
Today Was Yesterday – Today Was Yesterday
 
American duo Ty Dennis and Angelo Barbera have served a fair bit of time as sidemen, often together, and have now combined on the prog-leaning project Today Was yesterday.  To be honest though, my prime motivation for giving the album a listen is that six of the tracks feature Rush guitarist Alex Lifeson as a guest.
And there is in fact, a hint of a late period Rush tinge to the opening track ‘GRACE’, with its booming, discordant chords bouncing all over the place, counterpointing some mandolin-like sounds.  Angelo Barbera is a very different kinda vocalist to Geddy Lee though, echoing around
Today Was Yesterday in arty camera angle incident
in a lower register. The melody isn’t a killer, but the song maintains interest through the intricate riff and rhythms that swing into action three minutes in.
Lifeson’s handiwork is more obvious on ‘A Louder Silence’, as he adds squalls of guitar texture to the off-kilter rhythm and stuttering bass that form the foundation of the track, creating something that’s less song than sound picture, perhaps.
Tunes like ‘On My Own’ and ‘Faceless Faraway Song’ are suggestive of Peter Gabriel.  The former is light and sweet, with sparse offbeat drums and scintillations of acoustic guitar.  The latter is languid and downbeat, like swimming in a dark pool, with buzzes of guitar and distorted background vocals adding colour.
A couple of guest-free tracks offer useful diversions.  On ‘I Take All’ Barbera’s twitchy bass combines in funk fusion fashion with Dennis’s drums amid some electropop-ish bleeps and squirls of synth, and Barbera chucks in a tasty guitar injection as well as a good old-fashioned organ break towards the fade-out.  Meanwhile ‘Rukus’ edges into more modern prog stylings, à la Porcupine Tree maybe.  There are some wonky synth notes, and snappy drums that certainly aren’t about dance grooves, then it shifts into a steadier trot to underpin bubbling bass and edgy guitar, creating an oddball atmosphere. Dunno what the muffled spoken word snippets are meant to add though.
Robby Krieger turns up to add a brief burst of low-slung, fuzzy guitar to the swooning ‘If I Fall (Silly Games)’, with its swooshing keys and halting drums, and to make some slower, sweeter-toned but off-kilter intrusions towards then end.  The closing ‘My New Low’, which has probably the best melody on the whole album, with Barbera’s yearning, occasionally double-tracked vocal living up to it, while Lifeson returns to the fray with a romantically styled guitar break that fades away to leave a quiet piano outro.
It's evident from the execution that Dennis and Barbera know their onions as musicians, but the songs mostly fall a bit short in the hook department, and Barbera’s voice isn’t that arresting either.  Today Was Yesterday is an interesting enough exercise, but not strong enough to warrant multiple listens.
 
Today Was Yesterday is out now on Music Theories Recordings, and can be ordered here.

Thursday, February 29, 2024

Ten Top Tracks from . . . Ian Siegal

Roll up, roll up, for the second edition of Ten Top Tracks, a non-definitive, non-ranked overview of tunes by a Blues Enthused favourite – on this occasion the estimable roots troubadour Ian Siegal.
Ordinarily I might go for a vaguely chronological selection of an artist’s material.  But that ain’t so easy with Siegal, because you won’t find all of his output available on YouTube, my channel of choice for these here things.  So we’re going to be ducking and diving a bit, alighting on
Ian Siegal - sharp dressed man and guitar
renditions of certain tracks whenever happens to be convenient.  Watch out for the links to the various tracks on YouTube (or find the link to a playlist of all 10 at the bottom), and we’ll make a start with the first Ian Siegal album to cross my path – 2007’s Swagger.
 
‘Curses’ is a classic example of Ian Siegal’s love of word play – and his penchant for black humour.  It trundles along like a cart on a backwoods track, with flutterings of piano  and pluckings of banjo, fired up by sparks of slide guitar.  Meanwhile Siegal delivers a spoken, basso profundo character assassination of some fella, that evolves into a wish list of inventive curses to be brought down on him. "May he dig up his own father by moonlight, and make soup from his bones,” he suggests before drily concluding “I just don’t like that guy”.   There are several great songs I could have picked from Swagger, but ‘Curses’ demonstrates very nicely that Ian Siegal ain’t just a “my baby done left me” lyricist.
 
‘Sugar Rush’, from 2005’s Meat And Potatoes, finds Siegal getting down to business on a traditional brand of swingin’ R’n’B.  There’s nothing complicated about it, but Siegal and his buddies Matt Schofield on guitar, Jonny Henderson on organ, Andy Graham on bass and Nikolaj Bjerre on drums, inhabit the rhythmic groove brilliantly, while his vocal delivery and phrasing is as expressive as you could wish for.  Little wonder maybe, that he assembled the same gang to record Swagger.
 
Siegal likes to get around though, and at some point touched down in North Mississippi, which produced a series of collaborations starting with the 2011 album The Skinny, under the moniker of Ian Siegal and The Youngest Sons.  The sons in question were the Dickinson brothers, Luther and Cody, of the North Mississippi Allstars, plus other North Mississippi Hill Country scions Garry Burnside and Robert Kimbrough.  And ‘The Skinny’ itself does hint at the deeper, more hypnotic grooves typical of the hill country - without becoming derivative - while Siegal stirs some serpentine slide guitar into the mix.
 
Siegal sometimes likes to stir up a dollop of funk though, of which ‘Hard Pressed’ is a prime example.  It first popped up on his 2009 album Broadside, surfaced again on his collaborative outing Candy Store Kid with the Mississippi Mudbloods, and has been a mainstay of his full band
repertoire over the years.  Here’s the classic version that was available as a bonus download with his live album One Night In Amsterdam, recorded with his long-time band (who perform on their own account as The Rhythm Chiefs).
 
‘Hard Times (Come Again No More)’ represents a different side of Siegal’s repertoire.  He’s a regular “curator” of other people’s songs, of which this is a very old example, written by American folk composer Stephen Foster in 1855.  Musically it may not be a blues song, but it’s absolutely one in spirit.  Siegal often includes this in his solo acoustic shows, just “man and guitar” as one of his album titles has it.  But this version is my favourite, from the acoustic album The Picnic Sessions that he recorded with the Dickinsons, Jimbo Mathus, and Alvin Youngblood Hart, and which I picked up when it was originally available at gigs in Britain when he toured as a duo with Mathus.
 
As much as Siegal is a bluesman – and now and then he’s prone to deny it – he also has a soft spot for Americana, or country music if you prefer.  ‘Sweet Souvenir’ was co-written with Jimbo Mathus, and eventually cropped up on his 2018 full band album All The Rage.  But it’s well suited to a solo acoustic treatment, and here he is giving it just that in a 2019 performance.
 
All The Rage also found Siegal curling his lip at the state of the world on several tracks, and on the album cover too as if to underline the point.  ‘Ain’t You Great’ is a patient tune, with some Hispanic leanings and guitarist Dusty Cigaar digging out some big twanging.  But Siegal’s brooding vocal goes well with lines like “The asylum doors are open and we’re downupon our knees / They’ve found the biggest lunatics and handed them the keys”.  Released in2018, mid-Trump presidency and in the face of post-Brexit vote wheeling and dealing, there was plenty going on to encourage Siegal’s acidic wordsmithing.
 
Faced with the lack of live work created by the Covid pandemic and associated lockdown, Siegal combined with a bundle of other musicians under the quirky banner Birdmens, remotely
Life is too short to smoke bad cigars.
recording a one-off album titled Lockdown Loaded to try and keep the home fires burning, as it were. Given the circumstances, it’s a remarkably creative album, but one of the highlights is the back-to-basics blues stomp ‘Cat Drugged Up’, with Siegal digging out his patented Howlin’ Wolf-esque growl.
 
On his most recent album, Stone By Stone, Siegal got together with Robin Davey and Greta Valenti of Beaux Gris Gris & The Apocalypse, and managed to shake things up again, getting into a gospel/spiritual/work song groove on several tracks, interspersed with some seriously dark and downbeat Americana outings. But as an example of how to make roots music sound fresh I’d submit that the opening track, ‘Working On A Building’, is a masterclass. A work song sorta thing, given a loose and rhythmic treatment that sounds like a bunch of beer buddies having a good time, it’s irresistible.  
 
Siegal loves a good story, methinks. So for the final slot in this selection I’m going for ‘Gallo Del Cielo’, an atmospheric Mexicano-flavoured tale of a fighting rooster and his owner written by American songsmith Tom Russell. Siegal has been carting this pair of tragic heroes around in his set for years, whether he’s doing an acoustic set or playing with a band. Once again, it shows Siegal exploring a different vibe in evocative fashion.
 
Ian Siegal ain’t a predictable artist, trotting out the same sound year after year.  He’s a great songwriter in his own right, but also a terrific interpreter of other people’s songs.  And whether he’s serving up originals or covers, live or on record, you can bet he’ll deliver a characterful performance.

You can find a playlist of all 10 of the above tracks on the Blues Enthused YouTube channel, here.

Check out the Gimme 5 feature with Ian Siegal, in which he shares some of his inspirations with Blues Enthused, here.

Friday, February 23, 2024

Walter Trout - Broken

Broken is Walter Trout’s 31st album.  That’s a whole lotta guitar notes under the bridge.  Now, I must admit that I’ve really only cottoned on to Walter in the last ten years or so, so I can’t really comment on the quality of all his stuff.  But hell, he can still uncork some eye-popping tunes.
Take ‘Courage In The Dark’, for example, the third track on Broken.  It’s a moody blues, built around low key, hypnotic guitar notes and a hesitant beat, and it’s simple but utterly convincing. The lyric contemplates the fear of bad times, and the need for courage to get through them, and Trout delivers it with real sensitivity, while elevating the song and creating a light in the black by means of some wonderfully expressive guitar work.
Walter Trout - out of the black, and into the blues
Pic by Leland Howard
So ‘Courage . . .’ ticks the “sophistication” box, and then the following ‘Bleed’ confirms that ol’ Walter sure as hell still knows how to rock.  A
 song about the importance of stickability and going the extra mile in order to achieve success, it's a hard-hitting blast of raunch, with pulses of organ brightening Trout’s chugging, fuzzed-up guitar, interspersed with howls of harp from Will Wilde. And there’s a casual wit about Walter’s paternal nudge of “Play your harmonica, son” to Wilde before the latter lets loose on a skating solo.
At the other end of the album, the surging ‘Heaven Or Hell’ is given an original twist by the declamatory, spoken vocal with which Trout embodies the fiery preaching of a blind man he encountered on the street, complemented by a fizzing guitar solo and then an anthemic outro over Michael Leasure’s thumping drums.  And the closing ‘Falls Apart’ offers something distinctive, with an epic vibe triggered by spangly guitar strumming and reverb-treated vocals. Trout has made a tongue-in-cheek comparison with Pink Floyd, but in truth this is always more unconstrained than the pink ‘uns would ever be, even with the embellishment of some stylish, wordlessly soaring harmonies.  But there’s a still a dreamy quality as the refrain of “It falls apart” accompanies Trout’s piercing guitar through to the end.
There’s plenty of solid interest in the middle of the album too, from the electric sitar propelling the melodic ‘Talkin’ To Myself’ to the quasi-talking blues of the loping ‘No Magic (on the street)’, on which it seems Trout has a bash on harmonica himself while reflecting on a lack of connection to the modern world. Meanwhile Dee Snider turns up to partner Trout on the snarling, out-and-out rocker ‘I’ve Had Enough’. Feel the electrical charge in the riffing folks, and if no-one’s around then let yourself go and bang that head!
There’s romance to be had in the instrumental ‘Love Of My Life’, with its string-like keys and liquid, sustain-heavy guitar work, and in the light-touch love song ‘I Wanna Stay’.  And there’s wistfulness too, in the deliberately Faces-evocative ‘Breathe’.
In fact the only songs that don’t hit the bullseye for me are the opening pair of ‘Broken’ and ‘Turn And Walk Away’, and with both it’s down to personal taste.  Beth Hart guests on the subdued opener ‘Broken’, and promptly unwraps the heavy vibrato that always grates on me – she may have toned it down successfully on some recent outings, but sadly not here.  The slowly revolving ‘Turn And Walk Away’ which follows is tidy enough, with a tasteful closing solo, but it’s essentially a cowboy-style blues, and a little of that goes an awful long way for me, pardner.
But never mind my quibbles.  Broken don't need fixin'.  It's top drawer blues-rock, with several imaginative highlights along the way, and a reminder that at 72-years old Walter Trout is still cutting it, still as relevant as any of the young pups that garner all the hype.
 
Broken is released by Provogue Records on 1 March, and can be ordered here.