Sunday, March 31, 2024

Ten Top Tracks from . . . King King

Welcome back my friends, for the third instalment of Ten Top Tracks, surveying the repertoire of an artist favoured by Blues Enthused, but without any of that ranking nonsense - and bearing in mind that tomorrow I might choose several different tunes!
This time around I’m featuring British blues-rock stalwarts King King, and once again following a roughly chronological path.  Keep your eyes peeled for the links to the tracks on YouTube (or follow the link to a playlist of all ten tracks at the bottom), and when you’re sitting comfortably we’ll begin – not at the beginning, but with something from the band’s second album, Standing In The Shadows.
King King react to being told it's their round
Pic by Graham Milne

The first time I ever heard anything by King King was on a covermount CD that came with the (now defunct) Blues Magazine, offering a selection of the ‘Best or 2013’. I may already have encountered them via an advert in said magazine, featuring a picture of a burly guy giving a guitar some wallop while apparently spraying sweat in umpteen directions – and wearing a kilt. Being a Scot, I was intrigued, even though it’s scarcely our everyday attire.
Actually hearing King King for the first time though, playing ‘A Long History Of Love’, was something else. Up above I tagged them as blues-rock, but this was more blues-soul.  It’s patient and subdued, with gentle strokes of organ and subtle guitar chords, and reflective, emotional lyrics that main man Alan Nimmo delivers like a man who’s spent a whole lot of time listening to Paul Rodgers.  They rouse themselves a bit, then take a breather before Nimmo sets out on a lengthy, spell-binding guitar solo that spins new ideas and directions out of the melody, perfectly weighted and with exquisite use of sustain.  It was a real “Holy Shit!” moment.
When I then got a hold of the album Standing In The Shadows, I discovered that maybe six of the album's ten tracks were in this slow-to-mid tempo soulful vein - a bold thing to do, it seemed to me.  But it worked like a charm, so to underline the impact it had on these ears, here's another of those tracks, 'Taken What's Mine', which rolls along on a hypnotically steady beat, with long restrained organ chords and a subdued guitar figure as the backing for Alan Nimmo's sensitive vocal, plus another guitar solo that's full of feeling, perfectly fitted to the song.
Turning back to the band's debut album Take My Hand then, many long-time fans might expect me to pick the Eric Clapton/Robert Cray cover ‘Old Love’, another soulful epic that was a cornerstone of the King King live show for years.  But no, I’m going for something that justifies the “rock” aspect of
Alan Nimmo - an introspective kind of chap
Pic by Adrian Hextall
the blues-rock label, with ‘Broken Heal’.  Bennett Holland may bring some swing with injections of organ, but it’s the gritty riff and big tense guitar chords that set the real tone, while Alan Nimmo barks out an urgent vocal about a young woman’s street-walking, drug-dependent existence. Oh yeah, and he digs out not one but two scything wah-wah solos, a bit reminiscent of Lizzy’s Brian Robertson, to reinforce the mood.
Both of the above facets of King King continue to be evident on third album Reaching For The Light, with soulfulness on the likes of ‘Lay With Me’, and hard rocking on opening track ‘Hurricane’.  But they also explore a different kind of epic mode on ‘Rush Hour’.  It opens with twinkling guitar and a contemplative vocal from Nimmo in which an introspective sense of being swamped by the busy-ness of everyday life is more arresting than the “You believe in me” emotional rescue provided by a partner.  But it’s also gripping because of the dynamics, as it’s punctuated by pounding drums, surging organ from new boy Bob Fridzema, and charged-up guitar from Nimmo.  A stinging guitar solo releases some pressure, allowing it to ease off again, but soon enough the tense power returns, with a forceful grunt of “Huh!” from Nimmo heralding a climactic section that discharges the batteries fully.
But they also take that epic sensibility, that tension between sensitivity and power, and apply it to a quintessential blues-rock number in ‘Stranger To Love’, which doesn’t half channel Bad Company, with quiet sections giving way to Wayne Proctor whipping up a storm on drums, Fridzema leaning hard into his Hammond organ, and Nimmo letting loose some howling guitar.  The end result was something ripe to be turned into a tour de force in their live set - and it duly was.
It's something of a surprise that to date King King have only released five studio albums.  But that handful is bolstered by a barnstorming live album on which ‘Stranger To Love’ wasn’t the only song deserving of that tour de force label.  King King Live, released back in 2016, also includes an extended version of ‘A Long History Of Love’ that somehow manages to transcend the original, while ‘Rush Hour’ is also given fresh energy and is the focus for an exuberant singalong.  But ‘You’ll Stop The Rain’ undergoes one of the most ear-catching transformations. Already a corker of a track on Reaching For The Light, the song that Alan Nimmo wrote about his brother Stevie suffering cancer becomes a searing, impassioned classic here, peaking with an explosive Nimmo guitar solo.
But another King King quality that’s punched home on . . . Live is less to do with drama and more to do with getting your butt moving.  To wit, the boys could get funky!  Not that this was a revelation, but it’s brilliantly captured here.  Early on they roll out a cover of the Fabulous Thunderbirds ‘Wait On Time’ that’s irresistibly swinging R’n’B.  Then towards the end they retrieve ‘All Your Life’ from their first album, and spend ten minutes getting seriously groovy, with Hammond organ wrangler Bob Fridzema being “turned loose on ya”, as Alan Nimmo puts it, to pump up the hip-shake quotient.
The live album turned out to be the high point for the line-up of Nimmo, Proctor, Fridzema, and bassist Lindsay Coulson. Their following studio album Exile & Grace didn’t quite have the consistency to match the career-spanning . . . Live, and the band were prevented from touring it
The live and dangerous Nimmo brothers
immediately on release – and perhaps bringing the material properly to life – by Alan Nimmo suffering vocal problems that required an operation and prolonged rest.  But there are still numerous bright spots on E&G, especially when they’re cranking it out in a blues-rock vein.  The opening ‘(She Don’t) Gimme No Lovin’ is bright and box-fresh, serving up the wonderful tongue-in-cheek line “Stone cold devil woman foolin’ around” and a delicious key change.  But my pick for this piece is ‘Long Time Running’ – a Whitesnake-ish good time rocker with gutsy guitar chords, jangling piano from Fridzema in addition to waves of organ, and a gotta-join-in hook of a chorus.
Which brings us to the most recent King King album, Maverick, featuring a new line-up with 
Zander Greenshields on bass and Andrew Scott on drums. And just as I thought the slow tempo soulful blues emphasis of Standing In The Shadows was a bold move, they set another brave course on a couple of tracks here.  ‘Whatever It Takes To Survive’ may be a blues-tinged power ballad, but ‘By Your Side’ and ‘When My Winter Comes’ are piano-led, less bluesy, and more subtle.  ‘By Your Side’ features a passionate, piercing guitar solo, but my pick from the pair is the stunningly unadorned ‘When My Winter Comes’.  Originally written for a proposed film, it relies on just Jonny Dyke’s piano, Alan Nimmo’s lead vocal – and some sumptuous harmonies thanks to a cameo appearance from brother Stevie, who joined the band after the album’s release.
In these songs there’s something of a tilt away from a blues focus to a broader melodic rock style. It’s not a definitive shift, but it’s discernible in other tracks on Maverick.  For my last selection though, I’m going with the opening track, ‘Never Give In’, a tough and gritty blast of blues-rock that confirms the blues is still in the KK boys’ DNA – though perhaps a bit more glossy than in the past.  It’s an apt note to close on lyrically too, because King King have had to be resilient in the face of a few vicissitudes down the years, from Alan Nimmo’s vocal issues, to regrouping around new line-ups, and management changes.
It's now over three years since Maverick was released.  Surely the time has come for King King to bring us their next musical chapter, and deliver a rocking new album!

You can find a YouTube playlist of all ten tracks here.

Tuesday, March 26, 2024

Cedric Burnside - Hill Country Love

I really like North Mississippi Hill Country blues.  I like the often hypnotic grooves, the edgy drumming that’s always liable to undergo an eruption, and the real sense of heart that’s often discernible in the music. But to be honest, this album by Cedric Burnside has me in three minds, as it were.
There are tracks on Hill Country Love that hit the nail on the head.  ‘Juke Joint’ for instance, is a song about the pleasure of getting on down which sports one of the more low down, gritty guitar parts on the album, which seems to get doubled up as the song progresses.  The drums are simple but snappy, and there’s a tricksy dot-dot-dotting guitar break.  My only complaint is that it rather fizzles out when it’s begging for some kind of incendiary finish. ‘Coming Real To Ya’ works too.  It’s simple/borderline simplistic - a bit more languid, with rolls around the
Cedric Burnside - coming real to ya!
Pic by Jim Arbogast
drum kit and two guitars intertwining to good effect and getting into stinging, stabbing mode, and some really squeaky slide playing at the end.
‘Love You Music’ is another example, weaving prickly, sitar-sounding guitar into a guitar figure that could come from some sub-Saharan outfit like Songhoy Blues and weds it to rolling tom-toms that suddenly flip into paradiddling snare and back again, before getting seriously agitated in support of the central guitar break.  And the following ‘Toll On They Life’ is slower, the guitar initially just following the melody as it builds a mantra-like vibe for the head-shaking commentary, before a warmer guitar tone triggers the chorus, and a twanging guitar break offers more variety.
But on the other hand ‘Closer’, a prayer to get closer to god, may be lean and bright with its tootling guitar, but really is too simplistic.  ‘Thank You’, with its stumbling guitar line, squawks of harp and basic rhythm, just feels sonically thin and really doesn’t amount to much. And I can’t quite make my mind up about the brief and winsome ‘Strong’, which belies its title with its musing vocal, pattering drums and sugar-spun guitar remarks.
The third element I’m juggling with here is the inclusion of three old classics in ‘Shake Em On Down’, ‘You Got To Move’ and ‘Po Black Mattie’.  ‘Shake Em . . . ‘ is kept primitive, with acoustic slide guitar and a near incantated vocal, but doesn’t develop much – though to be fair there’s an argument that’s in its Hill Country nature. The take on ‘You Got To Move’ is atmospherically spare, its plinking guitar moving with the melody and reinforced by some conversational harp.  But the most convincing cover is the closing ‘Po Black Mattie’, which is given a loose but popping treatment, with lightly jogging guitar and bass nagging away like a toothache against a backdrop of pushy, insistent drums that get all action at times, like they’re trying to escape. But do these oldies -especially the first too – actually add much to the equation, or are they just pleasant padding?
But to close on a positive note, 'Hill Country Love' itself has a sunny vibe with its hipwiggling rhythm and low down riff. And ‘Funky’ is properly engaging with its jangling guitar backed up by syncopated drums and burbling bass, and our Cedric’s repeated exhortations to “get funky, get funky, get funky”. And he even gives an entertainingly James Brown-esque introduction to a spanking drum break.  It’s one of the tracks here with the most personality.
Hill Country Love runs to 14 tracks, but should have been trimmed. And while Burnside suggests that the ad hoc recording space he and producer Luther Dickinson used “made the sound resonate like a big wooden box”, I’d have liked a bit more muscle to be on display.
Still and all, Cedric Burnside has got the Hill Country sound in his blood, and there are a couple of fistfuls of those idiosyncratic grooves on offer here.
Hill Country Love is released by Provogue Records on 5 April, and can be ordered here.

Tuesday, March 19, 2024

Elles Bailey - Live At The Fire Station

It was a year ago yesterday that I wrote a review of Elles Bailey playing live in Edinburgh, and since Live At The Fire Station is a document of the same tour, one might wonder what more there is to say beyond what I wrote then.  But as it turns out, the album provides the opportunity for a deeper appreciation of certain aspects of her live show.
For one thing, it may be Elles Bailey’s name on the backdrop, but she ain’t doing this alone, and Fire Station absolutely justifies her calling on the audience at the end of ‘Sunshine City’ to “Give it up for this incredible band!”  It’s not that there are lots of jaw-dropping individual showcases
Elles Bailey - cooking up a perfect storm
being served up – though there are a few excellent solo spots.  But as an ensemble this gang absolutely click as they deliver some quality arrangements that allow the songs, and Bailey’s vocals, to shine.
A good example is ‘Perfect Storm’, which evolves in measured fashion over Matthew Jones’ tripping drums.  There are no displays of flashy virtuosity, but in addition to the fuzzy guitar stings from Joe Wilkins and dreamy organ from Jonny Henderson, Matthew Waer unwraps some delicious bass variations - having already found some tasty grooves on the preceding ‘Colours Start To Run’.  Meanwhile the soulful voice of backing singer Demi Marriner – who wasn’t available for last year’s Edinburgh gig – complement Bailey’s lead vocal beautifully.
This is not, by any means, an isolated example. ‘Stones’ is a simple enough song, but the arrangement is always interesting, with Wilkins’ angle-grinding slide injections and edgy solo, along with Marriner’s voice, adding some spice to Bailey’s own impressive delivery.  It is, mind you, one of numerous instances of Bailey’s fondness for “Ah-wooh-ah-ooh” type vocal interpolations, a tendency she could do with tempering in her future writing.  No such qualms about the aforementioned ‘Colours Start To Run’ though, which is really all about the melody and the vocals, peaking in a pre-chorus and chorus which are downright divine, and do justice to some superb lyrics.  And speaking of lyrics, the brooding, sophisticated and cleverly structured ‘Shining In The Half-Light’ is as good a bit of writing as you’re going to get about the alienation that comes with our modern online life.
Sophistication comes in different forms of course.  ‘Spinning Stopped’ is a delicate lullaby which is kept very simple, and is all the better for it.  Meanwhile the halting ‘Halfway House' comes over like a folk song that’s been bathed in soul, and is all about another marvellous chorus, elevated by the backing vocals of Marriner and, indeed, Wilkins.  Bailey may be an Americana award-winner, but to me these outings are far more convincing than the cowboy blues Americana arrangement of ‘Medicine Man’, which is in any case outdone in its own terms by the gripping ‘Cheats And Liars’, with its stronger chorus and better dynamics.  Basically, Elles Bailey has some better shots in her locker than ‘Medicine Man’.
Bailey and co can rock out too, in case you were wondering.  The inspired good-time cover of John Martyn’s ‘Over The Hill’ is upbeat from the off, but they don’t half whack out the latter part of it.  Meantime the revved-up ending of ‘Hole In My Pocket’ gives a big lift to the rather middle-of-the-road song, with Wilkins’ guitar scrabbling around like a Jackson Pollock painting.  But it’s with the set-closer ‘Riding Out The Storm’ and the encore ‘Sunshine City’ that they really hit rocking paydirt. The former is a great song, the verse drawing you in towards a chorus that’s sublime, with a great hook, and I do love a good false ending, especially when it allows Joe Wilkins to take the spotlight and dig out a sizzling solo. And ‘Sunshine City’ is a no-arguments barn-burner, a great tune with a crunking riff and swooping organ over Jones’ driving, swinging beat, and Bailey hollering away from the front as they make like a locomotive steaming down the track.
Those Americana awards are all very well, but for me Elles Bailey is really a crossover artist who puts the songs first, has bags of soul in her vocals, and with the help of her amigos is ready and willin’ to rock in pursuit a good time. And that’s a very tasty recipe for a live album.
Live At The Fire Station is out now and available here.

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
“Hello Edinburgh!”
“We are DeWolff, and we have come all the way here tonight to ask you something!”
“Are you ready to rock’n’roll?”
“Are you ready . . .
“ . . . 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


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.
 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.