Connor Selby - Connor Selby

Connor Selby is a talented young fella.  There’s plenty of evidence for that on this self-titled album, which was first released in 2021 and is now coming out in a Deluxe edition via Provogue Records, with four bonus tracks.  But there’s also evidence of room for further development.
Let’s start with the positives.  The kid – he’s only about 23 – has evidently immersed himself in some of the legends of bluesy, jazzy and soulful sounds from a young age, and come out the other end capable of writing some decent tunes in that vein.  Among the best things here are ‘Hear My Prayer’ and ‘Waitin’ For The Day’, both of which carry echoes of Van Morrison in their melodies, their soulfulness, and the easy-going piano elements.  The former features conversational verses, and tasteful female backing vocals helping Selby to give a lift to the chorus, plus a good

Connor Selby does some open air woodshedding

Pic by Rob Blackham

example of Selby’s pitch perfect guitar soloing, while the latter is one of the strongest songs on the album.  Elsewhere, ‘If You’re Gonna Leave Me’ has a bluesy guitar intro, but then leans into a Nina Simone-like jazzy feel, most particularly through its piano part, before Selby comes up with an interestingly squelchy solo towards the end.  And ‘I Shouldn’t Care’ brings to mind BB King, or maybe Sean Costello in mellow mood, with a good quick-quick-slow guitar solo and a mild surge of energy via the organ as it progresses.
The best thing here though, is ‘Emily’, and for a variety of reasons.  It kicks off with a fuzzy riff that incorporates an intricate little twirl, and has more energy about it than anything else on offer.  There are waves of organ, bigger drums than are to be heard elsewhere, and more female backing vocals to help create a big sound that its chorus deserves.  Selby comes up with a stinging guitar solo, and one of his stronger vocals, and the sense of a crescendo late on justifies its six minute running time.
But a few more helpings of that kind of snap, crackle and pop wouldn’t go amiss.  For one thing, there’s a tendency for songs to be overstretched, as on ‘The Man I Ought To Be’ and ‘Anyhow’ to name just two examples.  Both songs have some good elements, but they’re both slow, and subdued, and with the former in particular I’ve had about enough after four of its seven minutes.
What’s more, it often feels like Connor Selby’s middle name could be ‘Languour’.  It’s not just that several songs drag on too long, but that Selby’s preference is to be mellow, laid back and reflective, a tendency underlined by his vocal style. The opening ‘I Can’t Let You Go’ typifies the way his singing leans towards a smooth drawl, to the point where sometimes he lapses into a half-singing, half-speaking approach that’s prone to dilute the melody.  To be fair though, his phrasing is always good, and as the album progresses there are numerous examples of him rousing himself to offer a bit more vocal energy and soulfulness.
But then maybe this vocal torpor is a product of the lyrics, because on that score Selby’s default setting seems to be “lovelorn”.  I mean, I know songs shouldn’t always be regarded as autobiography, and just as well, because otherwise you’d have to reckon Connor Selby has a very unfortunate time with girls.
So yeah, it would be good if young Connor could cheer up a bit, and order a stack of extra beats per minute from Amazon as well.  But still, the musicianship, arrangements and sound in evidence here are all impressive.  And the boy can and does play some damn fine guitar too, with an excellent sense of how to serve the song.  Connor Selby is a decent calling card, and I look forward to more balance and variety next time around.
 
Connor Selby (Deluxe Edition) is released by Provogue Records on 3 March, and can be ordered here. 

Robert Jon & The Wreck - Voodoo Rooms, Edinburgh, 13 February 2023

Are you ready to rock?  You’d damn well better be, if you’re going to see Robert Jon & The Wreck.
The Californian five-piece assemble on the stage, count themselves in, and BLAM!  Right from the off these guys make a big, big sound.  And they also make it look very easy, as befits a bunch of workaholics honed by countless gigs every year.

Robert Jon Burrison gets a bit worked up

Take a song like ‘Do You Remember’.  Crunching into life with slamming chords, it goes on to harness sparkling, Allmans-like guitar harmonies, clobbering drums, spot on vocal harmonies, and some blazing lead guitar.  Oh yeah, and it has a cracking, Seger-like tune too.  This is not an isolated example.  This is not an accident.  These guys know how to write a barnburner, and they knock ‘em out with frightening regularity.
‘Waiting For Your Man’ opens up with a kit-thrashing intro from drummer Andrew Espantman, and brackets gut-wrenching chords and a Morse Code riff around another solid hook.  Late in the set they crack open ‘Oh Miss Carolina’, and if the fact the audience waste no time belting out its anthemic chorus indicates that it’s a real earworm of a song, I’m here tell you they have even stronger songs that don’t even make the set list tonight.  But ‘Shine A Light On Me Brother’ does, on which all and sundry have a rock’n’rollin’ blast right through to its drum-hammering ending.
But it’s not all wham-bam-thank-you-mam melodic rockers.  They get funky on ‘High Time’, with lead guitarist Henry James finding a new guitar tone to match the squelchy keys solo from newbie Jake Abernathie.  And ‘Who Can You Love’ is a cooler, country-ish affair, with James pulling another style of solo out of the hat.
Even more to the point, their mastery of dynamics means that they can grab your attention and keep it when they stretch out on songs like the bluesy epic ‘Rescue Train’, which brings together a towering vocal from Robert Jon Burrison and a dizzying slide solo from James before they take things right down for an organ solo from Abernathie.  They’re smiling all round, in readiness for

Henry James and Warren Murrel get the lead out

the guitars of Burrison and James to plough back in, and for the latter to deliver an eyeballs-out solo.  ‘When I Die’ is slower, with lots of romantic, shimmering piano from Abernathie, and James wrapping his spidery fingers around a spidery solo.
But it’s at the end of the night that they really pull out all the stops, with ‘Cold Night’.  There are more of those vocal harmonies, more of those guitar harmonies, and then James goes nuts on guitar, fingers dancing feverishly on the neck as the band ramp it up behind him.  He hands over to Abernathie for a barroom piano segment, and then the two of them get into a guitar and piano call-and-response jam, before all concerned dive into a final headlong slalom down the rock’n’roll mountainside, with Burrison, James and gangly, ever-grinning bassist Warren Murrel gathered together and rocking out centre stage.
And that might seem to be that.  But no.  With the crowd baying for more, the Wreck re-emerge, and with rippling guitar, mellow organ and hushed vocals they embark on – Hallelujah! - the stunning ‘Last Light On The Highway’.  Big chords, a big motif, and sparkling piano combine on this tour de force, a dramatic affair on which they reach their absolute peak.
Robert Jon Burrison’s name may be out front, and wiry little dude Henry James in his 1981 Blue Öyster Cult t-shirt (the guy has excellent taste) may be a Premier League guitar wrangler, but the Wreck are yer gen-yoo-wine, more than the sum of their parts rock’n’roll band.  Miss ‘em at your peril!
 
In case you’ve missed them, check out the Blues Enthused reviews of the Wreck’s albums Last Light On The Highway, Shine A Light On Me Brother, and Wreckage Vol.2.

And you can read a 'Gimme 5' feature with Robert Jon Burrison, selecting songs that have crossed his radar, key influences, and the people he'd love to lunch with, here.

Alice Armstrong - Voodoo Rooms, Edinburgh, 10 February 2023

Before tonight my only previous acquaintance with Alice Armstrong was her impressive guest vocalist appearance on the Stevie Watts Organ Trio album Mission To The Moon, an outing that leaned towards jazzy soul.  Well, this ain’t that – or at least, not often.
What becomes absolutely clear in the course of this show is that Armstrong is no one-trick pony, stylistically.  Or to put it more bluntly, she’s a singer so damn good that she can do absolutely anything that takes her fancy.  Blues, soul, funk, jazz – you name it, this girl can sing it.  Heck,

Alice Armstrong leans into the groove

on ‘Auto Assassin’, a weird and warped epic kinda thing about being loved near to death, she even uncorks a totally on point quasi-operatic passage.
Now, this kind of all-round vocal brilliance is undoubtedly a blessing, but can it also be a curse?  Reason I ask is that at times this set felt a bit unfocussed, as it flitted from the chunky and funky, sashaying ‘Head To Toe’, to the work song vibe of the dramatic ‘Graveyard Shift’, to the slightly flimsy soul-funk of ‘Motel’, and later the oddball jazz-funk of ‘Boomerang’.  Perhaps the absence of aforementioned keys professor Stevie Watts, who shoulda been here but couldn’t make it, accounted for the sense of a missing ingredient, some Hammond colourings that would have pulled things into a more coherent whole.
Whatever, let’s accentuate the positive, because there’s still plenty of that.  The avowedly Aretha-influenced ‘Better Late Than Never’ is a crackling torch song, and the cue for an intense Armstrong vocal full of power and dynamics.  She hits another sweet spot on the BB-styled ‘B-Side’, complemented by guitarist Matt Long (yes, he of Catfish) going off the deep end with a squealing solo.  ‘Upbeat Baby’ is a bump’n’grind blues on which our Alice digs in deep to add pleasing heft, while Long delivers a Stratocastic solo before Armstrong really lets rip at the end.  And ‘Love Song’ is a stunning ballad involving just Armstrong’s voice and Long’s guitar, as she
sings that she “can’t write a love song when I ain’t got no one” – forget genre labels, this is sheer quality whatever you call it.
They deliver a cracking take on BB King’s ‘How Blue Can You Get’ too, to crown the set, inviting Leo from support band Blue Milk up to inject a star turn harp solo, and his buddy Jonny Mac to add a delicate guitar solo on the way to a wild conclusion.  Debut single ‘Speed Dial’ makes for an enjoyably funky, where-have-I-heard-that-riff-before set closer, though personally I could have done with a bit less of the solos-all-round padding.
It's early days for Alice Armstrong, but she’s already good enough to have garnered a UK Blues

Blue Milk - Mac'n'Whyte, not Mac'n'Cheese

Award nomination, and I have every confidence that she and her amigos will hone their sound to make even more impact before very long.
And the same may be true of Glasgow-based opening act Blue Milk.  It’s four years since I last saw them in a similar support slot, and at that time I thought they had a certain something, raw as they were.  Tonight they feel tighter and more confident, but still edgy.
They kick off with the brisk blues of ‘Street Corner Man, with tub-thumping drums and squawking harp contributing to a Yardbirds-like rave-up vibe.  ‘Take Me There’ features a twangy intro, a coolly meandering bass line from Ike Malinki, and a  satisfyingly rambling slide break from Mac.   Then drummer Taylor Whyte lays down an enthusiastically snappy beat on a rumbling reading of ‘Shake ‘Em On Down’, embellished by some good interplay between Jonny Mac’s slide guitar and Leo Glaister’s harp.
‘Coal In The Fire’ serves up more driving Delta blues, while ‘River’ (I think) witnesses some smart finger-picking from Mac and a drumming wig-out from Whyte.  It’s no great surprise that ‘Come Back Around’ explores a North Mississippi hill country sound, given their stated love for the likes of Junior Kimbrough and R L Burnside, and their latest single ‘No Sleep Blues’ provides a suitably punchy conclusion to a punchy set.
Blue Milk’s straightforward electrified blues went down well with this audience.  They may still be rough diamonds - and in a way that's a good thing - but they clearly enjoy what they’re doing, and they have the potential to develop further.

Savoy Brown - Blues All Around

As most readers here will know, Savoy Brown main man Kim Simmonds passed away last December, succumbing to the cancer with which he was diagnosed in September 2021. Blues All Around, the final album that he and his bandmates completed shortly before he died, bears witness to him sticking to the blues roots that inspired his career for over 50 years, if maybe in simpler and less heavy fashion than on recent releases like Ain’t Done Yet and City Night.
Simmonds plays a lot of slide guitar on Blues All Around, a response to chemotherapy deadening the nerves in his fingers and making single-string playing difficult.  But hey, he

Kim Simmonds - Music is energy

Pic by Arnie Goodman

doesn’t half make a virtue out of necessity.  Take ‘My Baby’ for example, a simple enough little blues excursion with, it has to be said, a pretty hackneyed lyric, but which lays down a crunking groove, with Simmonds demonstrating that he absolutely knows how to generate a magnificently grinding slide guitar sound, backed up by walking bass by Pat DeSalvo.
That grinding slide sound is the backbone of Blues All Around, whether on the ‘It Hurts Me Too’ Elmore James throwback of the slowish ‘Winning Hand’, with its strong, atmospheric slide solo, or the swing’n’sway of ‘Hurting Spell’, its heavier riff offset by some curly Wurly organ sounds en route to a gritty solo. Meanwhile ‘Black Heart’ riffs away fuzzily, veering between stinging and guttural over a rock steady beat as Simmonds groans out a tale of a betrayal by a woman.
‘Blues All Around’ itself is brighter fare, with distant echoes of Fleetwood Mac’s ‘Stop Messin’ Round’ and some rhythmic variations as a shaker and even a cowbell are thrown into the mix, while Simmonds wends an impressively lick-strewn path through proceedings, counterpointed by the bright splashes of organ that add colour to several tracks.  ‘California Days Gone By’ is one of the more interesting tunes, a shuffling groove with bumpalong bass to which Simmonds brings ringing slide chords, over plonking, Morse Code-like piano notes, as he sings of some personal West Coast memories.  And ‘Can’t Go Back To My Hometown’ is a bit sweeter, Garnet Grimm’s drums hinting at a Latin feel while Simmonds serves up some call-and-response between his vocal and piercingly toned guitar remarks.  The song feels over-stretched, and the words are a bit thin again, but really it’s all about the guitar work, peaking with a lyrical solo.
The album opens with the brief guitar-and-voice vignette of ‘Falling Through’, a very old-sounding fragment of basic blues, given some electrification.  It’s a mood Simmonds returns to at greater length with the closing ‘Falling Through The Cracks’, backing himself with just two (I think) intertwining guitars.  Ostensibly about giving up on a woman (again), it naturally has something of a valedictory feel, as Simmond’s patient vocal perhaps implies a broader sense of acceptance.
Blues All Around could have done with some judicious trimming and stronger wordsmithing – ‘Texas Love’ is a bit lightweight and clichéd, for example.  But as a final chapter in the Savoy Brown story, it still speaks convincingly of Kim Simmonds’ love of the blues.  As he says in the sleeve notes, "Life is energy.  Music is energy."
 
Blues All Around is released on 17 February by Quarto Valley Records, and digital versions can be ordered here.

DeWolff - Love, Death & In Between

I can’t claim to be a long-time devotee of DeWolff, though I did enjoy their 2020 album The Tascam Tapes.  But I do admire the air of don’t-give-a-shit independence that emanates from the Dutch trio.  For one thing, the guitar, keys’n’drums combo don’t sound like some cookie-cutter blues-rock outfit, but march to the beat of their soul-blues-rock-and-whatever-else-they-fancy beat.  And they do it their own way, whether it’s recording The Tascam Tapes with the most rudimentary set-up you can imagine, or in the case of Love, Death & In Between, retreating to an entirely analogue studio in Brittany and recording the whole shebang live to tape, no overdubs, with a crowd of pals contributing additional musical chops to the enterprise*.
Oh yeah, and on Track 5 here, titled ‘Rosita’, they knock out a 16-minute plus extravaganza of

DeWolff pull their finger out

Pic by Satellite June

 soul, gospellated testifying to “the Mighty Power of Love” (their delivery compels me to capitalise that phrase), a blast of uptempo Latino stylings, and even a bout or two of ‘Aquarius’-like vocal uplift.  Or if you prefer, you could focus on the slaloming guitar segments, the hurtling Hammond organ, the affirmative bursts of horns, or the sense of Joe Cocker getting by with a little help from his friends.  There are plenty of elements to choose from in this magnum opus.
But if all that sounds a bit overwhelming, they offer rather more disciplined fare elsewhere.  The opening ‘Night Train’ may not be the James Brown toon, but they do set the tone with a snippet of JB hollering “Ah ya ready for the night train?”  They set off with a suitably locomotive rhythm from Luka van de Poel, parping organ from Robin Piso, and an urgent guitar riff from his brother Pablo who also delivers a confident, expressive vocal, backed up by female interjections.  It all adds up to something upbeat, pulsating and fun, and they reinforce that vibe with the following ‘Heart Stopping Kinda Show’, celebrating the simple things in life in steadier but still thumpingly catchy fashion, full of horns tooting high and low alongside barrelling piano.  Later too, ‘Wontcha Wontcha’ combines snapping drums, brash horns and rollicking keys, plus a trumpet solo and an uptempo Santana-like bridge and guitar break, in an increasingly fevered, and maybe overlong, soul-funk wig-out.
They can cool things off too, whether with the Steely Dan-like subtleties of ‘Jackie Go To Sleep, with its tripping rhythm, jazzy guitar and silvery organ solo, or the Al Green delicacy of the swaying ‘Pure Love’.   ‘Mr Garbage Man’ has a yearning bluesy sensibility, stripped down and with a romantic soul bridge as it hints at the influence of Sam Cooke.  And there’s a spookier aspect to the closing ‘Queen Of Space And Time’, with its minimal percussion, swirls of Wurly organ, and interjections of flute and piano.
But they balance things in the opposite direction too, as they let rip halfway the bouncing, witty ‘Counterfeit Love’ and turn it into an organ-powered rock beast.  And just in case you think that’s an aberration, they follow it up with ‘Message For My Baby’, on which hooting and hollering in the background gives way to an intro of powerful guitar and organ chords.  They back off a bit to provide Pablo van de Poel with more room for a squealing, screaming vocal akin to Ian Gillan crossed with James Brown, before Piso gives it some serious welly on organ, over syncopated percussion, while van de Poel runs some busy interference on guitar – a combination they redouble after another burst of ecstatic church-like hollering, before chucking in a wailing sax solo for good measure.
After over an hour of this fervent soul-fuelled celebration I feel a bit of musical indigestion coming on, even with the periodic palate cleansers of the more laid back tunes.  But the DeWolff boys and their amigos really know how to put this distinctive sound together, and by god they do it with conviction.  I like ‘em.
 
Love, Death & In Between is released by Mascot Records on 3 February, and can be pre-ordered here.

*Sadly at the time of writing I have no information about the various supporting musicians, who make significant contributions to the album's sound.

The 2:19 - We Will Get Through This

Back in 2021 Belfast band The 2:19 released their debut album Revelator, a collection of very satisfying, meat-and-two-veg blues originals that showed a bit of potential.  Their new album We Will Get Through This isn’t as good as that.  It’s better.  Much better.
Let me begin at the very end, with the title track.  After a mournful flutter of harmonica 'We Will Get Through This' opens with just voice and acoustic strumming, as singer Chris Chalmers gently lays out a message of personal reassurance and encouragement in response to a shared moment of doubt and fear.  An undertone of organ emerges, then some sensitive electric guitar

The 2:19 play musical chairs

remarks.  Then as the lyric grows in conviction, the band come in, but subtly. A female voice adds sighing backing vocals, alongside brushes of piano.  And gradually, as the lyric becomes more universal in intent, the song evolves into a marvellous, uplifting slice of soul – especially when that female voice, the property of guest singer Amy Montgomery, comes to the fore and counterpoints Chalmers’ own moans and groans.
‘We Will Get Through This’ makes for a bravura climax, no question about it.

But the really great thing is that it doesn’t stand in isolation.  The album builds to this peak from the start as The 2:19 go through the gears with confidence.  They grab things by the scruff of the neck with the opening ‘No Smoke No Fire’, all crunching staccato chords, steady thumping beat and declamatory vocal, plus an impressively barbed guitar solo from Paul Wilkinson, and they don’t let go.
They loosen up a bit on the likes of ‘Turn Out The Lights’, but in a good way. A twitching shuffle, it’s crying out for handclaps to underline its good-time feel and go with the on-the-money harp solo from Andrei.  ‘Best Suit’ goes back to their roots, a slice of straight-up blues, with the bass and drums laying out a toe-tapping groove, and some rinky-dink piano and slide guitar as garnishing for a brisk tale of crime and punishment.  ‘Hey Carolina’ suggests they’ve supped at a similar Southern well to Robert Jon & The Wreck, horns and all, while ‘The Reach’ shows that they can get funky too.  And as a livener before the finale, ‘Seven Wonders’ is a cheerful chunk of Frankie Miller-style R’n’B, replete with rootsy harp and slide, on which the hero’s global sight-seeing always ends up back with his bewitching baby.
These songs all make for solid, impressive foundations.  But along the way they also detonate the fierce, surging ‘Ready To Go’, a stand-out propelled by some serious tub-thumping from Monty Sneddon, throbbing bass from Marty Young, and some ripped out, resonant rhythm guitar from Ady Young, as the underpinning for Chalmers’ edgy, semi-distorted vocal and a knife-edge guitar solo, also this time from Ady Young.
And they continue to demonstrate their potential down the stretch.  ‘Radio Smiles’ is laid-back and soulful, well-suited to Chalmers’ rich voice, a story of drive-time radio listening as a vehicle for personal reflections, with mellow organ from guest ivory-finagler John McCullough (who adds excellent brush strokes throughout) and similarly subtle horns from Barry McCrudden and Linley Hamilton, the latter also furnishing a well-placed trumpet solo.  There’s some evocative word-smithing too, as in “an old song sweet enough to make a radio smile”, and if it’s a song that doesn’t hit the absolute heights, it’s still reaching for them.
‘Broken Harmony Blues’ is another matter though.  It’s a slow, sensitive duet, again featuring the alarmingly good Amy Montgomery, whose voice blends perfectly with Chalmers on a beautifully simple piano and voice arrangement that illustrates how less can be much, much more.
When I reviewed their debut album, I suggested The 2:19 had hinted at a spirit of adventure they hadn’t quite fulfilled.  On We Will Get Through This that spirit has flowered.  They’ve written some songs that stretch beyond the basic blues framework, been bold enough to bring in session musos to help them fully realise those songs, and been well-served by the engineering and mixing of Michael Mormecha.  Salutes and high fives all round folks – this is a damn good album.
 
We Will Get Through This is released on all major digital platforms on 23 January.
 

Speedbuggy USA - Sonic West

Eighties cowpunk, garage rock, rockn’roll.  Mash up that little lot, and some other stuff besides, and the end result might sound a bit like Speedbuggy USA.  They’re rootsy, raunchy, and do their thang with a decent helping of attitood on Sonic West, an album that came out last August, but which only crossed my path the other week.
‘Sonic West’ itself leads the way, introduced by an echoing, ‘One Step Beyond’ style call to arms, before rolling out of the station with an intriguing, Clash-like rhythmic interweaving of Steve Kidwiler’s guitar and Patrick Dennis’s bass as a prelude to a surf-rockish guitar excursion. Then before you can say “Dick Dale” they dial it down again for an atmospheric spoken interlude that’s the track’s sole vocal component.

Speedbuggy USA - not the usual country suspects

There’s a garage rock raunch to ‘Bad Reaction’, with its blasts of harp and distorted vocals on the edgy verse, and moaning backing vocals on the pre-chorus as they hint at the 60s likes of ‘Psychotic Reaction’ and early Yardbirds R’n’B, underlined by a pleasingly scratchy guitar solo that I'd have liked to get scratchier still.
“I wanna hear some country music, crank it loud,” demands singer Timbo on ‘Burn’, and they do, to the extent that Greg McMullen actually manages to make his pedal steel sound respectably gutsy, instead of that godawful snivelling sound it contributes to a lot of old-fashioned country music.  We’re in the realms of Lone Justice here, with a mucho catchy chorus and a smattering of wiry guitar breaks for extra rock’n’roll credits.  They crank things up even further on the following ‘Run With The Wolves’, which has moments of restraint but is really all about the ringing, charging chorus, with an increasingly feverish vocal from Timbo, runaway drums from Mike McNamara.
They really can write a good chorus, as ‘Just Give Me A Reason’ demonstrates.  There may be a Stonesy, stuttering quality to the verses, but it’s the chorus that dominates, yearning and enhanced by some sweet harmonies supplied by Cindy Wasserman of Dead Rock West.  Their skill in this department is underlined by the slowish ‘Don’t’, on which the verses are kinda inconsequential next to the call and response hook.
‘Left All Alone’ is more energetic fare, a harem scarem blast of country garage that puts me in mind of the Raelyn Nelson Band, with a twangeroonie guitar break and a borderline bluegrass burst of gymnastics towards the end.  ‘(One Tough) Son Of A Bitch’ explores a different kinda country angle, with “oh-woah-ho-oh” singalongs and pedal steel trimmings bracketing a Johnny Cash-like bit of storytelling, delivered in suitably assertive fashion by Timbo.
The Smiths’ ‘How Soon Is Now’ pops up [careful with the video if you're averse to strobes], and as incongruous as that may sound they do a damn good job of making it work.  Kidwiler retains Johnny’s chiming, swooning guitar vibe, while Timbo ditches Morrissey’s fey, mannered stylings in favour of a more in-yer-face, finger-jabbing assertiveness.
They get more expansive on the closing ‘Hitch My Wagon’, which sets out with big fuzzy chords over a leisurely beat, gradually developing an out-in-the-desert-night openness to go with the romantic melody and Timbo’s aching vocal.  Kidwiler gets to wig out with a big, squealing guitar solo, and the epic feel is completed by his guitar bleeding all over the slow fade-out.
I may have mentioned country numerous times in this review, but this ain’t no Nashville sound.  This is country given a rock’n’roll shot of in the arm by a bunch of urban punks who like the twang and the tunefulness, but aren’t up for any sentimentality.  A few of the songs are a bit slight, truth be told, but I’ll let ‘em off because of their no messing, get on with it approach.  Sonic West is a pitcher of something fresh to wet your musical whistle.
 
Sonic West is out now on Rare Bird Records.

Eddie 9V - Capricorn

If you’re going to live up to a nom de musique like Eddie 9V, it pays to have a bit of chutzpah. And listening to Capricorn, it’s crystal clear that said Eddie – born Brooks Mason - ain’t in need of any booster shots of charisma.
When opening track ‘Beg, Borrow And Steal’ springs out of the speakers, brightly soulful horns and snapping snare giving way to a bass-popping, finger-snapping groove, it makes for a pretty darned engaging start. But things really take off when Eddie’s personality-laden, near-squawking vocal bursts into earshot, like a new buddy taking you by the elbow and hurrying you along to

Eddie 9V - no retreat baby, no surrender!

catch the vibrant chorus waiting just down the road.  He adds a couple of nifty little guitar breaks along the way for good measure, and alto sax man Noah Sills steps forward to play around with the melody to add some extra seasoning.  This, I’m thinking, sounds good.
And that’s the review right there, really.  Capricorn is a collection of songs that thwacks into the bullseye. It's delivered in style, and it’ll loosen your lumbago and make you wish you had a dance floor and a partner at your immediate disposal.  But let’s give you a bit more info to chew on, huh?
The album takes its name from the Capricorn Records studio in Macon, Georgia where it was recorded.  But while Capricorn Records is possibly most strongly associated with the Allman Brothers, the soul vibe here is more akin to that of Macon’s most famous son, Otis Redding.  Oh yeah, and judicious helpings of young Eddie’s blues sensibilities are folded into the mix too.
Slide guitar offers a signature refrain and a closing solo amid the horn punctuation of the swampy, offbeat ‘Yella Alligator’, which serves up another simple but damn good hook, the 9V fella singing about the bayou but sounding very like a creature of the streets.  ‘It’s Going Down’ has a woozy, bluesy feel, mucho relaxed and laid back, with flutterings of flute and pinging gutiar adding a summery flavour.  But ‘Down Along The Cove’ is brisker blues-rooted fare, peppered with Eddie’s slide guitar alternating conversationally with his vocal, until the slide has its moment on a gritty but playful solo, followed by a blast of rockin’ piano from Chad Mason.  The avowed influence of Sean Costello, who was raised in 9V’s home town of Atlanta, is evident here and elsewhere.
But songs like ‘Bout To Make Me Leave Home’ are delicious regardless of the blues quotient involved.  “We're trackin’ in history now,” Eddie drawls, and then they kick off a funky, rhythmic groove, simple and loose but fit to turn you to rubber, while the main man yelps out his frustrations.  There’s a classic soul vibe to the all-too-brief ‘How Long’, which comes buttered in Fender Rhodes piano and organ from Mason, with a sizzling little guitar solo as the cherry on top.  And ‘Tryin’ To Get By’ is another meltingly good song, perfectly delivered, bouncing along till it reaches a swooning pre-chorus to tee up its sunny, good-time refrain.  The multi-instrumentalist 9V is responsible for both the bass and drums here, and locks them into the pocket in swaying fashion.
There are more contemplative moments too, such as ‘Missouri’ (that's as in "Misery"), with its slinky bass and tapping drums.  And they cap off proceedings with the lazily shuffling, hypnotic groove of the dreamy ‘I’m Lonely’.  Once again, the instrumentation is woven together perfectly – bass, drums, keys, horns, guitar, everything – while Eddie, Mr Personality to the end, crafts another distinctive, soul-steeped vocal.
Capricorn is just the ticket to kick off the year.  This is a stylish, sassy, individual album, well-conceived, and well captured by Eddie 9V’s brother Lane Kelly in the producer’s chair.  Eddie 9V is the real deal – don’t say you haven’t been told!
 
Capricorn is released by Ruf Records on 20 January.