According to the PR bumf, The Cold Stares’ singer and guitarist Chris Tapp reckoned that “When it came time to record this album, I thought about everybody giving us this Southern rock tag, and decided to intentionally write songs that explore that.” The results though, don’t sound like yer typical Black Crowing or countrified “Southern rock” peddled by many a band nowadays. As Tapp tells it, this is because during their Kentucky youth, he and drummer bandmate Brian Mullins used to sit in with some old geezers who spent their time playing the likes of Free, Bad Company, Robin Trower and AC/DC.
So when the metaphorical needle drops on opening track ‘Horse To Water’, what you get sounds like a mash-up of a Lizzy-like stick-and-move riff with a tune redolent of, say, King King. Which to these ears makes for a pretty good start, and with icing on the proverbial courtesy of a sizzling solo from Tapp.
Tapp has quite the way with a soulful blues-rock vocal, as evidenced by ‘Blow Wind Blow’, where it’s paired with a muscular cowboy-style riff. It’s a well-assembled thang, with a strong chorus, and an FX-treated solo from Tapp that matches the mood well. And later he’s equally soulful on the chorus of ‘Woman’, with its Coverdale-esque melody rubbing up against a grinding riff that almost suppresses a wailing, barbed wire guitar solo – almost, but not quite.
Their ear for a whackingly good rock riff is readily apparent. There’s the turbo-charged affair that features among the loud/quiet, fast/slow dynamics of ‘Looking For A Fight’, before a square-cut, fuzzed up animal emerges midway to bolster the third verse, and then they hit gas pedal again. ‘Seven Ways To Sundown’ may open with some inventive low key percussion from Mullins, along with subtle, spaced out, low slung chords, but it’s not long before they drop another big riff to go with Tapp’s delivery of an earnest chorus. It’s another good song, and sports a restrained, trippy solo that at its end has me ready to hear Hendrix saying “Comin’ to get ya”. Then next up ‘No Love In The City Anymore’ dives into earshot with an impressive zig-zagging riff to go with pattering percussion and a sturdy chorus, before Tapp knocks out a tasty, twirling solo.
They can get down to the blues roots too though, as on ‘Coming Home’ where Tapp’s jangly acoustic sounds like banjo or mandolin. Then it gets electrified as it progresses, and the repeated refrain worms its way into you skull. ‘Level Floor Blues’ has a reverb-soaked, contemplative vocal over a sparse arrangement of tapping drums, glittering guitar, and bell-tolling bass from Bryce Klueh. It creates a hypnotic mood, made more atmospheric when Tapp unwraps some moaning, groaning bluesy chords. And final track ‘Mortality Blues’ lives up to its title, with good story-telling to go with more Resonator-like backing. It’s simple and effective, with maybe a whiff of early Bonamassa – except Tapp is a better, more natural singer.
They show off more stylistic strings to their bow with ‘Confession’ and ‘Giving It Up’. The former kicks off with choppy SRV-like funkiness, building into a punchy melody with more echo on the vocal. Then Trap gets to work on an intergalactic transmission of a solo, with Mullins’ drums ramping up and Klueh’s bass grooving busily. They get so into this, stirring up a spooky, storytelling ambience, that it begins to sound like they’ve been transported – I kid you not – from ‘By-Tor And The Snow Dog’ territory. Meanwhile on ‘Giving It Up’ the choppy urgency again put me in mind of Stevie Ray to begin with, though with a harder edge than ‘Confession’ – or is it a distant descendant of the aforementioned Trower in upbeat mode? We could trade comparisons all night, but whatever – it’s another winner.
You can take a horse to water, but you can’t paint it pink. The Cold Stares may have set out to explore their Southern heritage, but on The Southern they sound like a band with honest-to-goodness classic Seventies blues-rock in their DNA. And hey, that’s just dandy by me.
The Southern is out now on Mascot Records, and can be ordered here.
So when the metaphorical needle drops on opening track ‘Horse To Water’, what you get sounds like a mash-up of a Lizzy-like stick-and-move riff with a tune redolent of, say, King King. Which to these ears makes for a pretty good start, and with icing on the proverbial courtesy of a sizzling solo from Tapp.
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| The Cold Stares, badly in need of a good decorator Pic by Alex Morgan |
Their ear for a whackingly good rock riff is readily apparent. There’s the turbo-charged affair that features among the loud/quiet, fast/slow dynamics of ‘Looking For A Fight’, before a square-cut, fuzzed up animal emerges midway to bolster the third verse, and then they hit gas pedal again. ‘Seven Ways To Sundown’ may open with some inventive low key percussion from Mullins, along with subtle, spaced out, low slung chords, but it’s not long before they drop another big riff to go with Tapp’s delivery of an earnest chorus. It’s another good song, and sports a restrained, trippy solo that at its end has me ready to hear Hendrix saying “Comin’ to get ya”. Then next up ‘No Love In The City Anymore’ dives into earshot with an impressive zig-zagging riff to go with pattering percussion and a sturdy chorus, before Tapp knocks out a tasty, twirling solo.
They can get down to the blues roots too though, as on ‘Coming Home’ where Tapp’s jangly acoustic sounds like banjo or mandolin. Then it gets electrified as it progresses, and the repeated refrain worms its way into you skull. ‘Level Floor Blues’ has a reverb-soaked, contemplative vocal over a sparse arrangement of tapping drums, glittering guitar, and bell-tolling bass from Bryce Klueh. It creates a hypnotic mood, made more atmospheric when Tapp unwraps some moaning, groaning bluesy chords. And final track ‘Mortality Blues’ lives up to its title, with good story-telling to go with more Resonator-like backing. It’s simple and effective, with maybe a whiff of early Bonamassa – except Tapp is a better, more natural singer.
They show off more stylistic strings to their bow with ‘Confession’ and ‘Giving It Up’. The former kicks off with choppy SRV-like funkiness, building into a punchy melody with more echo on the vocal. Then Trap gets to work on an intergalactic transmission of a solo, with Mullins’ drums ramping up and Klueh’s bass grooving busily. They get so into this, stirring up a spooky, storytelling ambience, that it begins to sound like they’ve been transported – I kid you not – from ‘By-Tor And The Snow Dog’ territory. Meanwhile on ‘Giving It Up’ the choppy urgency again put me in mind of Stevie Ray to begin with, though with a harder edge than ‘Confession’ – or is it a distant descendant of the aforementioned Trower in upbeat mode? We could trade comparisons all night, but whatever – it’s another winner.
You can take a horse to water, but you can’t paint it pink. The Cold Stares may have set out to explore their Southern heritage, but on The Southern they sound like a band with honest-to-goodness classic Seventies blues-rock in their DNA. And hey, that’s just dandy by me.
Check out the Blues Enthused reviews of The Cold Stares' 2023 album Voices here.
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