Southern Rock – Zachary Mule

HEADHUNTING FOR FUN AND PROFIT: THE KENTUCKY HEADHUNTERS LIVE PREVIEW

They’re a little bit Donny and a little bit Marie… and a little bit James Brown and a little bit McKinley Morganfield… maybe even a little bit Woody Guthrie. The music of the Kentucky Headhunters is permeated with an amalgam of everything that is American music. The boys from the heart of Kentucky are a lean and not-too-mean Rock and Roll machine, hitting on all four cylinders. Like the rest of the world, Greg Martin, Fred Young, Richard Young and Doug Phelps found themselves with jobs that they couldn’t go to and, in a couple of cases, they were put low by the virus that held us all prisoners for nearly 30 months. Guitarist Martin said that the band was just “crawling out of the wreckage” in 2021, reconvening in February to record what became the album THAT’S A FACT JACK! and somehow managing to play about forty-five dates through the end of the year. Now, the Headhunters are back on the road and coming to the Effingham (Illinois) Performance Center, just a few hours up the road from Greg’s adopted home of Glasgow, Kentucky. With opening act Confederate Railroad in tow, he has guaranteed a good time for all. When asked what can be expected on April 2 in Effingham, Martin said, “It’s gonna be like somebody opened the corn crib and let a bunch of hogs in. It’s gonna be a frenzy of Rock and Roll, Country and Blues. Naw, man… we’re gonna have a great time. We always love playing that part of the state; it’s always a blast. We got a lot of fans. Yeah. I think you’re gonna see some guys just happy to be out playin’ music again.”

THE KENTUCKY HEADHUNTERS (Greg Martin) (photo credit: CHRISTIE GOODWIN)

As excited as the guitarist was to get back to playing live, he was just as excited to tell us about his other career and, naturally, our conversation eventually ambled into a discussion about Greg’s LOWDOWN HOEDOWN program on WDNS radio out of Bowling Green. The three hour Blues-intensive show airs Monday nights beginning at 7:00 Central time and streams at wdnsfm.com. Brother Greg is a true musicologist and traditionally delves into the roots and the seedy underbelly of the beast we call Rock and Roll… don’t expect any type of genre segregation with this show as the man was raised on AM radio when it didn’t matter what kind of music was being played as long as it was good. You can expect the same type of show from the Headhunters. What a great way to spend a Saturday night! For ticket information, head over to the Performance Center’s site, the-epc.org.

NO VALENTINE: KNOCK KNOCK

(SELF-RELEASED EP; 2019)

The should-be-signed-immediately New York trio, No Valentine, live by the old Punk credo of “Loud, Fast Rules!” Their latest release, an EP called KNOCK KNOCK, features five songs clocking in at an impressive thirteen minutes. The group is fronted by songwriting force, guitar-slinger and powerhouse vocalist Cindy Pack; Pack is quite ably supported by the rhythm section of Laura Sativa (who has played bass with legendary punks Sylvain Sylvain and Jayne County) and versatile sticksman Mike Linn.

NO VALENTINE (Cindy Pack, Mike Linn, Laura Sativa) (uncredited photo)

Things are off to an ominous start with “Down Down,” a tune so dense that you could caulk an entire house with the riffs alone. Guitar, bass and drums all meld together in a thick soup of awesomeness, while Cindy relays a spiraling mental anguish, climaxing with this final verse: “Sometime I feel like a walking train wreck/An epidemic, a viral agent/A bad narcotic/A hopeless neurotic/But mostly, I just feel psychotic.” Even the backing vocals sound somehow wounded. “Barnyard Apocalypse” sounds brighter, a rollicking type of Rock ‘n’ Roll, kinda like Unknown Hinson or Reverend Horton Heat on a bender. Still, the lyrics belie the jaunty feel of the music, with such poetic gems as, “Hallelujah, motherfuckers/Pass the mashed potatoes.” Ms Pack is apparently on a mission to prove that she is the manifest destiny queen of snotty punk music; she gets my vote! Yeah, I know that with a monarchy, you ascend to the throne (or take it in a most brutal fashion); she still has my full support. Sounding very much like a shorter version of “Halo of Flies,” the classic Alice Cooper track, “You’re Sick” grinds, grooves and hisses along ‘til the charging beast simply comes to a sudden end, as if felled by a shot from a master huntsman. The number – undoubtedly my favorite here – is the longest on the EP, coming in at an economical 3:52, besting its predecessor by a full second.

“Lemon Pie” features a spry bassline, some nimble drumming and a wickedly fuzzed-out guitar delivering a decidedly whacked approximation of a classic Country tune. If you listen closely, you can even hear Cindy’s sly vocal twang, offered, as usual, with her tongue firmly implanted in her cheek. It’s probably the most upbeat song you’re ever gonna hear from No Valentine but, it in no way sounds out of place nestled amongst the harder, punkier fare on display with KNOCK KNOCK. “Detour” is a meaty slice of early ‘70s proto-punk heaviness, sort of a bookend of dismay and misery with the opener, “Down Down.” Still looking for answers on a trip to nowhere, Pack intones her dilemma with lines like, “Ran out of gas/Ran out of oil/Can’t pay the tax/Can’t pay the toll/And now I’m stuck in the slow lane of life/And I can’t get over.” All I can say is, “And who hasn’t been there?” All in all, KNOCK KNOCK is one of the best indie releases I’ve had the pleasure of listening to in quite some time. I just wish there was more to it! Full-length, anyone? Until then, KNOCK KNOCK and No Valentine’s three previous EPs can be acquired through the group’s website or Bandcamp page.

DO THE ARCHITECTURAL WATUSI Music Reviews | Darren Tracy | August 27, 2019 | Alternative Rock Bandcamp Blues Rock Cindy Pack EP Garage Rock Hard Rock Laura Sativa Mike Linn Music No Valentine Post-Punk Music Punk Rock Rock and Roll Roots Rock Self-Released Southern Rock

UPCOMING: THE VANDOLIERS

(12 July, 2019; OLD ROCK HOUSE, Saint Louis MO)

Two of my favorite things converge on Friday, July 12: Bloodshot Records and Old Rock House. The former is represented by the self-proclaimed “Converse cowboys,” the Dallas-Fort Worth band, the VANDOLIERS; the latter is one of my favorite places in the Lou to experience live music. The band is opening for PARKER MCCOLLUM, an artist of some repute in his own right, and touring in support of their third album and Bloodshot debut, FOREVER. As if you’re gonna need another reason to head out to the super-cool Old Rock House for this show, here’s a brief description from the band’s bio: “It’s twang and tattoos, grit and guitars, honky-tonk and horns, Tejano and Telecasters.” What more could you ask for on a Friday night?

DO THE ARCHITECTURAL WATUSI Live Music Preview Streaming Video | Darren Tracy | July 9, 2019 | Acoustic Music Bloodshot Records Bluegrass Music Blues Rock Country Music Country Rock Folk Music Music Music Preview Old Rock House Parker McCollum Rock and Roll Saint Louis Southern Rock Streaming Video Tejano-Punk Music The Vandoliers

ZZ TOP: LIVE GREATEST HITS FROM AROUND THE WORLD

(SURETONE RECORDS; 2016)

ZZ Top are like an old friend… you just want to hang out with them and have a good time. After four-and-a-half decades (and counting), they have the distinction of being the longest running rock band with ALL its original members still going strong. That in itself is great, much less that they are still rocking as hard as ever. Their new live album, with songs recorded at tour stops all over the world (thus, the name) sounds great and is as fresh and as fun as the Tops have ever been… even after all this time. “Got Me Under Pressure,” “Cheap Sunglasses,” “Legs,” “Sharp Dressed Man, “La Grange,” and “Tube Snake Boogie” are all here and, so is guitar legend Jeff Beck, who joins the trio for “Rough Boy” and “Sixteen Tons” (yes… the Tennessee Ernie Ford song). Billy Gibbons and Beck have known each other for quite a long time and the former Yardbird has been a touring companion with the “Little Band From Texas” on more than one occasion.

ZZ Top (Dusty Hill, Frank Beard, Billy Gibbons) (uncredited photo)

Bassist Dusty Hill, the great stickman Frank Beard and Gibbons still rock with an unbridled wit and vigor and some of the coolest licks you’ll ever hear. Personally, I find Billy to be one of the finest axemen around, taking a backseat to no one. Frank Beard (the only member of ZZ Top without a beard!) is just fine, a powerful meat-and-potatoes type of drummer… steady as a rock. They, like any band that has been around as long, will have their ups and downs, but they still manage to record some new stuff on occasion (their last album, LA FUTURA, came out in 2012). I‘m so glad they are still around – just the three of them – still blasting out their own style of rockin’ Blues and still having a blast doing it. This new LIVE GREATEST HITS FROM AROUND THE WORLD record should serve as ample proof of that. Long live the ultimate party band, that little ol’ band from Texas, ZZ Top!

DO THE ARCHITECTURAL WATUSI Music Reviews | Bill Winer | November 1, 2016 | Billy Gibbons Blues Rock Classic Rock Dusty Hill Frank Beard Hard Rock Jeff Beck Live Music Live Recording Music Rock and Roll Southern Rock ZZ Top

REVEREND HORTON HEAT WITH UNKNOWN HINSON/NASHVILLE PUSSY/IGOR AND THE RED ELVISES

(February 6, 2016; READY ROOM, Saint Louis MO)

What a wonderful, bizarre night this was. Reverend Horton Heat have always been one of my favorite live acts; I vaguely remember seeing Nashville Pussy somewhere about fifteen years ago… they didn’t do a lot for me but, well, things change; for me, there were two wild cards: the enigmatic Unknown Hinson, who did a short set toward the end of the Reverend’s show, and the goofball antics of Igor and the Red Elvises. Let’s start things off – as we always do – at the beginning with…

Igor and the Red Elvises (Natalie John; Igor Yuzov; Dregas Smith) (photo credits: DARREN TRACY)

The wild and wonderful women who make up the current incarnation of the Red Elvises (shouldn’t that be “Red Elvi?” Just wondering) and their Commissar of Jocularity, Igor Yuzov. With shaking hips and thrusting pelvis eliciting visions very much like that of a certain ’50s teen idol, sporting a head of “Elvoid”-based follicles and dressed in what can only be described as a lame’ jungle print zoot suit, the larger-than-life singer exhorted (extorted?) the crowd to sing along, clap along, dance along, surf along and pretty much any other “along” he could think of as he built a set from the ground up, randomly calling out – Zappa-style – the next tune. At one point, he even cajoled a good portion of the audience to “spontaneously” erupt into a shimmying, snaking conga line. Is there any wonder why this rockin’ teenage combo is “your favorite band?”

Igor and the Red Elvises (Dejah Sandoval; Igor Yuzov; Jasmin Guevara) (photo credits: DARREN TRACY)

Well, yeah… all of that over-the-top lunacy is as cool as it sounds, but this band is so much more: Musically, Igor and his ever-revolving, evolving group of Elvises play a hip, retro brand of Rockabilly and early rock ‘n’ roll, laced with enough updated alternative grooves to keep even the most jaded of youngsters’ heads bobbing and butts shaking; the band, especially the rhythm section of Dejah Sandoval and Jasmin Guevara (on bass and drums, respectively), are first rate musicians and, obviously, are having just as much fun as Igor and the fans. Aside from her bass-playing abilities, Sandoval proved improbably adept at remaining upright while sporting stacked boots that would give Gene Simmons a nosebleed, while Guevara was virtually a perpetual motion machine, bobbing and shaking her head like Ringo and pounding her kit like a miniature Bonzo. Keyboard player Dregas Smith showed herself capable of laying down a wicked boogie woogie piano one minute, a fuzzy, grungy garage Farfisa the next; as Igor – more often than not – neglected his guitar, Natalie John took up some of the slack on trumpet and various horned instruments, as well as the occasional funky solo. When Igor did play his chosen instrument, he mixed James Burton-style Rockabilly with Dick Dale or Link Wray-like tremolo-laced Surf guitar. The fact that he sounded like Boris Badanov fronting a band of KGB operatives only added to the man’s charm and mystique on songs like “Closet Disco Dancer,” “Surfing In Siberia,” “I Wanna See You Bellydance” and “She Works For KGB.” The aforementioned conga line took shape at the beginning of “Sad Cowboy Song,” which also featured an incredible (as in, not boring) drum solo from Jasmin; the solo actually started with the other three ladies surrounding the kit and joining in on the percussive fun. I could probably write a novella filled with superlatives about Igor and the Red Elvises, but then I would never get to the rest of the show. Suffice to say that a Red Elvises show is pretty much like watching Frank Zappa’s Mothers eat Madness and then throw up Link Wray; that’s kinda my way of saying that a good time was had by all.

Nashville Pussy (Jeremy Thompson; Blaine Cartwright, Ruyter Suys; Bonnie Buitrago) (photo credits: DARREN TRACY)

Nashville Pussy, the hard-rocking, four-headed Blues beast may seem – on the surface, at least – an odd choice as tour-mates for the Heat boys, but they’ve been traveling the highways and by-ways together for nearly twenty years. If you’re not familiar with this outfit, they play a drug-fueled, beer-soaked Southern boogie… kinda like early Lynyrd Skynyrd laced with liberal doses of Motorhead, as well as a little bit of Hank, Senior. Up top, I mentioned that the only other time I saw them live, Nashville Pussy really didn’t trip my trigger; a few months back, I saw vocalist Blaine Cartwright play an acoustic set two doors down, at the Demo. Cartwright mentioned that he’d been working on his vocals and, obviously, in that stripped down environment, the melodies and the wickedly funny (and equally perceptive) lyrics weren’t so easily lost in the sheer decibels of a Pussy show and, guess what… somewhere in between that show and this one, I went back and listened to last year’s TEN YEARS OF PUSSY compilation and, well, I like ’em… I really like ’em! And, for the record, Blaine’s vocals ARE stronger and clearer than ever, kinda like Uncle Ted or Alice gargling with the ashes of Wolfman Jack and Bon Scott. In fact, with the addition of bassist Bonnie Buitrago a few years back (and, just maybe, the seasoning that comes from almost constant touring), the band has definitely taken on a more cohesive sound since I first saw them, lo, those many years ago.

Nashville Pussy (Blaine Cartwright; Blaine and Ruyter; Ruyter Suys) (photo credits: DARREN TRACY)

Though the band has, indeed, coalesced into a well-oiled machine, the songs maintain their inherently lewd and rude lyrical bent, while each of the four musicians appear ready to go into the crowd for a bit of a throw down at the drop of a black cowboy hat (or, at the very least, to go into the crowd to throw back a drink or two with their rabid fans). Buitrago and drummer Jeremy Thompson laid down a thunderous rumble over which Cartwright and his wife, Ruyter Suys, worked their six-string magic. Don’t think that because Blaine has concentrated on improving his vocals that he’s neglected his guitar playing… he hasn’t; true, Ruyter still does most of the lead work and soloing in her inimitable style, but I believe that Cartwright’s newfound confidence in his voice has allowed him to just let go on guitar. An example of both appeared in the unexpected form of a cover of the classic Marshall Tucker Band ballad, “Can’t You See.” Don’t think for a second, however, that that means this group has mellowed… they are still as cantankerous and debaucherous as ever; classics like “Pillbilly Blues,” “Struttin’ Cock,” “Hate and Whiskey,” “Rub It To Death” and the ever genteel “Go Motherfucker Go” tells you that this is a buncha folks that would’ve made Caligula blush. Well, most of ’em, anyway; it was kinda funny watching Ruyter, Blaine and Bonnie sweating and thrashing and knocking back shots (or, more often, taking a slug straight from a bottle of Jack) while Jeremy just goes about his job with as little exertion as possible, but still – somehow – managing to sound like two drummers. While Suys’ guitar seemed to occasionally fall out of tune as she throttled the the neck, abused the trings and writhed about the stage, it just didn’t matter; what did matter and what came across from the time Nashville Pussy took the stage was the passion that these people (and their ravenous fans) have for the MUSIC. In a world where electronic beats and auto-tuned voices are becoming the norm, it is refreshing to hear real music played by a band that isn’t afraid to mess up from time to time.

Reverend Horton Heat (Jim Heath) (photo credits: DARREN TRACY)

For over thirty years, guitarist Jim Heath has fronted the band Reverend Horton Heat… to most of his fans, he IS the right Reverend Heat. The band’s sound (a melding of Western Swing, Rockabilly, Rhythm and Blues, Surf Music, and pretty much any other genre that they can work into the stew) really began to come together when bassist Jimbo Wallace came onboard in 1989; many, including Heath himself, consider Jimbo to be the heart and soul of the group. Spanning two different tours of duty, Scott Churilla is the trio’s longest-tenured drummer, having served from 1994 to 2006 and coming back into the fold in 2012. As you can imagine, these guys have become a well oiled live machine and, this show was certainly no different. Proving their staying power – and the continued popularity of their music – the band ripped into the fairly straight-forward Surf instrumental “Big Sky” coupled with the wild hillbilly honk of “Baddest of the Bad,” both from 1994’s breakthrough album LIQUOR IN THE FRONT, before sending the sold-out crowd into a feeding frenzy with “Psychobilly Freakout,” a fan favorite from their debut album, SMOKE ‘EM IF YOU GOT ‘EM.

Reverend Horton Heat (Jimbo Wallace; Jim Heath; Jimbo Wallace) (photo credits: DARREN TRACY)

From there, the boys dipped into the earliest years of Rockabilly with “School of Rock ‘n’ Roll,” a 1958 single from fellow Texans Gene Summers and His Rebels; not only are these guys celebrating their own history, but they continue to celebrate their roots, as well as turning their fans on to music they may not have otherwise heard. In most instances, an upright tends to get lost in the mix… not Jimbo‘s; he prompted pops and thrums out of his instrument like no other could. Scott’s excellent stickwork proved why Jim and Jimbo brought him back into the fold after six years away; many of the Reverend’s best albums feature Churilla mounted on the throne (actually, he plays on all but the first three albums and 2009’s LAUGHIN’ AND CRYIN’ WITH THE REVEREND HORTON HEAT). And, of course, what can you say about Jim Heath? He’s never been a flashy guitarist, but he makes what he does seem so easy; it’s the same with his vocals… rock solid from start to finish. With his eyes in perpetual squint-mode (lights, I would guess) and his face either wearing an all-knowing, world-weary smirk or a mile-wide smile, Heath is one of the most unassuming rockers you’ll ever see. The set list looked like the back of a “Best of… ” album, with such fan-pleasing entries as “I Can’t Surf,” “Bales of Cocaine,” the hard-driving Psychobilly paean to Mister Wallace, “Jimbo Song,” as well as Chuck and Johnnie’s “Little Queenie.” Toss in the instant-classic “Zombie Dumb” from the group’s most recent release (2014’s REV) and a few more selections from an impressive catalog and you’ve got a rock ‘n’ roll show to remember. However, the boys were just getting started and… we hadn’t even seen their special guest yet!

Reverend Horton Heat (Unknown Hinson; Jim Heath; Unknown Hinson) (photo credits: DARREN TRACY)

As the houselights came back up after “It’s a Dark Day,” Heath had this to say by way of introduction about Unknown Hinson (the special guest, if you haven’t been following along), “This man scares me to death. Not only because of all that vampire shit, but because of the way he plays guitar… he’s better than any of us could ever hope to be.” Sporting the suit he was buried in (I’m not positive, but I’d bet it cinched in the back) and a pompadour from Hell, the vampiric Hinson lumbered to center stage, still wearing the black gloves so important to his evening wear as he sates his murderous predilection; he removed the gloves only to pick up his guitar. Like the music of the Heat lads, Hinson is sorta all over the place: Everything from surfin’ Gothic Country to metallic hillbilly punk. Hinson’s wide palette included hardcore Western swing, Carl Perkins-style Rockabilly, fuzzed-out slabs of pure psychedelia, old-school Rhythm and Blues and his own twisted take on Southern honk; if you close your eyes just the right kind of tight, you’d swear it was Early Cuyler hisself serenading you. Unknown’s short set-within-a-set included the misogynistic “Silver Platter,” as well as such delicately titled little ditties as “I Ain’t Afraid of Your Husband,” “Fish Camp Woman” and “Your Man Is Gay.” Hinson proved to be as good advertised on guitar, moving from Heavy Metal power chords and manic Country pickin’ to mind-expanding psychedelic soloing and mournful Blues licks. The whole thing was rather like what would happen if the legendary George Jones were to hook up with Brian Warner at a Satanic mixer hosted by the ghosts of Jimi Hendrix, Frank Zappa and Minnie Pearl… in short, everything a true music lover hopes for in a live experience.

Reverend Horton Heat (Scott Churilla; Jim Heath; Scott Churilla) (photo credits: DARREN TRACY)

As Hinson exited the stage, Jimbo, Scott and Jim charged into the salacious “Let Me Teach You How To Eat” and its thinly veiled lyrical innuendo. One of Heath’s earliest (from THE FULL-CUSTOM GOSPEL SOUNDS OF THE REVEREND HORTON HEAT, released in 1993), heaviest and funniest tunes, “400 Bucks,” led into a sort of gear-head finale, with the divorce settlement classic “Galaxy 500” and the Surfabilly couplet about fast cars and faster women, “Victory Lap” and “Smell of Gasoline,” the latter featuring solos from both Scott and Jimbo. The encore brought Unknown Hinson back to the stage for an extended jam on “The King of the Country Western Troubadours,” including a very Trower-esque solo from Unknown. I’ve seen Reverend Horton Heat several times since 1996 or so and they just keep getting better; throwing Hinson into the mix just upped their game even more. I can’t wait to see what they bring next year… I know it’ll be killer.

DO THE ARCHITECTURAL WATUSI Live Music Reviews | Darren Tracy | February 9, 2016 | Alternative Rock Americana Blaine Cartwright Blues Rock Bonnie Buitrago Classic Rock Country Music Dejah Snadoval Dregas Smith Elvis and the Red Elvises Garage Rock Hard Rock Horror Rock Ivan Yuzov Jasmin Guevara Jeremy Thompson Jim Heath Jimbo Wallace Live Music Music Nashville Pussy Natalie John Pop Music Psychedelic Music Punk Rock Reverend Horton Heat Rhythm and Blues Rock and Roll Rockabilly Roots Rock Ruyter Suys Saint Louis Scott Churilla Southern Rock Surf Music The Ready Room Unknown Hinson Western Swing

AMARANTHE/BUTCHER BABIES/LULLWATER

(November 17, 2015; POP’S, Sauget IL)

Amaranthe Chris Adam Hedman Sorbye with Danielle) (photo credit: DARREN TRACY) — Amaranthe (Chris Adam Hedman Sorbye with Danielle) (photo credit: DARREN TRACY)

From the outset, standing in line and listening to the various comments, it was obvious that the majority of the people at Pop’s on the evening of November 17th were there to see Butcher Babies; I even heard comments and questions like, “I have never heard of this Amaranthe band. Do you know anything about them?” I can kinda understand that… while both acts play metal, they take very different approaches: Amaranthe play a symphonic, well-orchestrated and choreographed style of progressive metal, while Butcher Babies blur the line where punk and metal meet. I am all for diversity and can and have enjoyed bills featuring several different musical styles. Unfortunately, I tend to be part of an ever-shrinking fan base that enjoys listening to a myriad of genres and styles in the course of an evening of live music. So, with that as a backdrop, here’s how this night shook out.

Lullwater (Brett Strickland; Roy Beatty) (photo credits: DARREN TRACY)

Opening act Lullwater was a total surprise. The Athens, Georgia quartet play the type of hard rock that I grew up on, though steeped in the early 1990s sound of the Seattle scene; there are touches of Alice In Chains and Nirvana, as well liberal doses of Stone Temple Pilots (yeah, I know they weren’t from Seattle, but… ) and Soundgarden. As Southern boys, there’s plenty of good ol’ Lynyrd Skynyrd and Seven Mary Three style rock and roll. With their new album, REVIVAL, barely a month old, they were determined to make an impression. And, make an impression they certainly did! It didn’t take these guys (vocalist/ guitarist John Strickland, bassist Roy “Ray” Beatty, drummer Joe Wilson and lead guitarist Brett Strickland) long to win over an early crowd hyped to see Butcher Babies.

Lullwater (Joe Wilson; John Strickland) (photo credits: DARREN TRACY)

The Strickland’s imaginative guitar licks are certainly hard to ignore, particularly on the stinging “Oddline,” from the band’s 2013 self-titled debut, as well as its cousin, “Evenline,” from the new record; the pair’s biting style is further enhanced by Beatty’s bass, which is tuned to a higher register (a trick also used by the Who’s John Entwistle), adding to the buzzsaw tone. Roy’s style also lends itself well to the Southern rock “guitar army” feel on songs like “Broken Wings,” allowing Brett and John to soar on an extended harmony part. Wilson’s playing demands attention, though it is never overbearing or dominating… as has been said many times before, it ain’t always the notes you play, sometimes it’s the spaces between that make a performance special; make no mistake, though, when he hits those notes, it is with power and precision. John’s chameleon-like vocals draw from most of the bands listed above, though mostly, he tends to sound like a tasty three-meat stew of Layne Staley, Scott Weiland and Seven Mary Three’s Jason Ross. From front to back, Lullwater delivered the type of high energy, flat-out rock ‘n’ roll show that you very rarely get a chance to see anymore… I just wish they could have played a longer set.

Butcher Babies (Carla Harvey; Heidi Shepherd) (photo credits DARREN TRACY)

Honestly, though I’ve heard quite a bit – both pro (usually from avid fans) and con (usually from music journalists like myself) – about Butcher Babies, this was my first time to experience the live bludgeoning. The band are obviously fans of the Plasmatics and their enigmatic vocalist, Wendy O Williams; I mean, the group’s name is an homage to the Plasmatics’ very first single from way back in 1978. You can also plot the progression of Williams’ band from anarchic punk noisemongers to heavy metal behemoth through Carla Harvey’s near-gutteral screams and Heidi Shepherd’s more melodic, sultry wails. And, even though the ladies’ stage attire was rather tame on this night, most images and videos show they have a proclivity for, at least, a mildly titillating form of exhibitionism. Shepherd and Harvey are twin balls of kinetic energy, in motion virtually from the time they hit the stage for “Monsters Ball” until their final exit during “Magnolia Boulevard.” The three-piece band – guitarist Henry Flury, bassist Jason Klein and drummer Chrissy Warner – are a well-oiled, if predictable, industrial punk metal machine; their sound falls somewhere between the Plasmatics’ NEW HOPE FOR THE WRETCHED punk overload and COUP D’ETAT metal mayhem, with more than a touch of Nu-Metal around the edges.

Butcher Babies (Henry Flury; Chrissy Warner; Jason Klein) (photo credits: DARREN TRACY)

The group highlighted material from their latest release, TAKE IT LIKE A MAN, including their approximation of a power ballad, “Thrown Away.” As well received as tunes like “Monsters Ball,” “Jesus Needs More Babies For His War Machine” and “Gravemaker” were, when the ladies introduced “They’re Coming To Take Me Away, Ha-Haaa!,” a cover of a fifty-year-old pop hit by Napoleon XIV, the crowd erupted. I will say that, even though I was a tad under-impressed, this group must be doing something right to have such a loyal following (a couple of guys – one sorta laid back and cool, the other more of the rabid “Hey… look at me! I know their bus driver! Wooo!” kind of guy – were in from Kansas City for the Tuesday night show). Considering the solid musicianship of Lullwater and the symphonic sheen of Amaranthe, it may have been a case of Butcher Babies being the wrong band at the wrong time; as such, I’m willing to hold further opinions until I can see them in their natural habitat, with more like-minded groups (and, yes, I realize that goes against everything that I said in my opening paragraph but, like everything else in life, there are exceptions to the rule).

Amaranthe (Johann Andreassen and the offending cap)) (photo credit: DARREN TRACY)

I was actually pleasantly surprised when it became apparent that a large number of the folks on the floor remained there for Amaranthe, although there was considerable turnover at the front of the stage. This, of course is where I get all curmudgeonly and tell you how much I dislike being around drunks; as I bid adieu to the laid back guy from KC, a couple of excitable drunks pushed in front of my spot and began documenting EVERY freaking moment of their time at the front of the stage with their phones… all with me trying to shoot pictures either over or through them. I usually let people around me know that I’m working and that I am only allowed to take pictures (I use an actual camera, for which I have obtained a photo pass, as well as permission from the band’s management to use) for the first three songs of any set and they’re usually cool and let me work, trying to avoid getting in my way or obstructing my view; these two were having none of that… I took close to 150 shots of Aramanthe, a hundred of them starring either at least one of the pair’s phones or the gentleman’s cap. If that weren’t bad enough, they compared notes on virtually every image or video they captured in an approximation of the English language that I can only refer to as trailer park rustic (my apologies if I’ve offended any of the millions of fine people who live in trailer parks but, I’m sure you know what I mean), loud enough to annoy more than just this humble cameraman. Okay… with that out of my system and, as I’m sure you didn’t come here just to hear me vent about my job, let’s talk about the real reason you’re here: Amaranthe.

Amaranthe (Henrik Wilhelmsson Englund; Chris Adam Hedman Sorbye; Elize Ryd) (photo credits: DARREN TRACY)

At first, I couldn’t fathom what the heck was taking place on stage; there were no amplifiers, there were no monitors. It definitely made it easier for the band’s three-pronged vocal attack to maneuver around the stage but… it just looked SO weird! All six band members wore ear monitors, something that is generally only done by the singer; as mentioned above, I am usually at the front of the stage, which means that most of what I hear comes from the stage monitors. Without those monitors, those of us situated up front, between the speakers on either side of the Pop’s stage had kind of a muffled sound, especially on the vocals; I’m sure that to those a little farther back on the floor, the sound was as pristine as the stage looked. This was merely a minor annoyance and, other than louder-than-they-shoulda-been pre-recorded keyboards and having to strain to catch some of the lyrics (especially from Elize Ryd), did not hinder my enjoyment of this highly technical (not to mention high-tech) Swedish outfit. The group was obviously enjoying themselves, as well, mugging for the legions of I-phones and I-pads, posing for the occasional selfie with a fan; at one point, Henrik Wilhelmsson Englund (the “dirty” vocalist) took the phone away from a young man behind me and began videoing himself and the other members of the group before handing it back to the excited fan. These moments are the things that I’ll remember long after Jethro and Minnie have been forgotten.

Amaranthe (Olof Morck; Morten Lowe Sorensen; Johann Andreassen) (photo credits: DARREN TRACY)

So, here’s where I’m gonna talk about the audience again, okay? Two of the new faces that joined me at the front of the stage before Amaranthe’s set included a young woman with a face that had me thinking that I should know her from somewhere and her daughter; as it turns out, while we had never actually met, we do frequent some of the same stores and shops in our respective home towns (we live in two small communities, eight miles apart). Anyway, I noticed that, not only was the daughter (eleven year old Danielle) thoroughly enjoying herself, she was singing along to ALL of the songs. Eventually, all three singers (the other clean singer – aside from Elize – is Smash Into Pieces vocalist Chris Adam Hedman Sorbye, who was filling in for co-founder Jake E Lundberg) noticed her, as well, and began coming over to take her hand or make eye contact. After a set that began with “Digital World” and included “Invincible,” “Massive Addictive,” “Afterlife” and “Electroheart,” the band – which also features musicians Olof Morck (guitarist and chief music-writer; Lundberg and Ryd handle most of the lyrics), Johann Andreassen (bassist and encore break MC) and Morten Lowe Sorensen (drums) – kicked into their theme-song, “Amaranthe.” After singing a verse and a chorus, Elize came over to Danielle and asked her if she knew the song; Danielle answered in the affirmative and sang the next verse into Ryd’s microphone. After a final song, “Call Out My Name,” the group left the stage.

Amaranthe (Olof Morck; Chris Adam Hedman Sorbye with Danielle; Elize Ryd) (photo credits: DARREN TRACY)

But, of course, Amaranthe weren’t finished yet. After a brief break, Andreassen was back to pump up the crowd (allowing the others to towel off – it was HOT in the venue and even hotter under the stage lights – and for Elize to affect a costume change). The rest of the band joined Johann, charging into “The Nexus,” the title track from their second album. The night ended, three songs later, with Englund asking Danielle, “If I were to say, ‘Drop Dead,’ what would you say?” Without hesitation, she replied, “Cynical” and the band tore into the very danceable, heavy pop of “Drop Dead Cynical.” Before leaving the stage, the three vocalists and Olof took time to greet, not only Danielle, but just about everybody in the first couple of rows. Amaranthe is a band that gets it; they understand that without fans like Danielle and her mother (and even the overbearing couple in front of me), they wouldn’t be able to do what they love to do. I enjoyed the set more than I thought I would; I just hope that before I see them again, they figure out that sound system.

DO THE ARCHITECTURAL WATUSI Live Music Reviews | Darren Tracy | November 20, 2015 | Amaranthe Brett Strickland Butcher Babies Carla Harvey Chris Adam Hedman Sorbye Chrissy Warner Classic Rock Elize Ryd Glam Rock Gothic Music Hard Rock Heavy Metal Heidi Shepherd Henrik Wilhelmsson Englund Henry Flury Industrial Music Jake E Lundberg Jason Klein Joe Wilson Johann Andreassen John Strickland Live Music Lullwater Morten Lowe Sorensen Music Nu-Metal Olof Morck Pop's Nightclub Post-Punk Music Progressive Rock Punk Rock Rock and Roll Roy Beatty Sauget IL Southern Rock Symphonic Metal Theatrical Rock

OLD 97S/BANDITOS

(October 29, 2015; READY ROOM, Saint Louis MO)

It’s kinda funny how things tend to run in cycles in this business. Earlier this year, it seemed that I was in the Grove more often than not to review a show at either the Demo or Ready Room; then, for a long stretch, most of the action seemed to be taking place at Off Broadway. Now, the last three shows I’ve reviewed have been at the two Grove venues. I have no explanation or theory regarding this phenomenon… I just go where the music is. This night, the music was at the Ready Room, where twenty year veterans Old 97’s and rookie upstarts Banditos presented two very different styles of Americana for a packed house.

Banditos (Stephen Pierce; Mary Beth Richardson; Corey Parsons) (photo credits: DARREN TRACY)

Improbably, Nashville’s (by way of Birmingham, Alabama) Banditos have only been a band for about five years and have been touring extensively for only the past three. Why is that improbable? Well, the six member conglomerate exhibit the sound and the easy stage presence of a much more seasoned band. Though the group features three lead singers, the spotlight seemed to shine the brightest on Mary Beth Richardson, whose sultry wail immediately brings to mind Janis Joplin, with just a bit of Tracy Nelson and Dale Krantz-Rossington (the latter’s gravelly purr comes to mind on the more ballady fare). The band’s co-founders, Stephen Pierce and Corey Parsons, are the other two vocalists, both with a buttery smooth style capable of delivering on anything from real-deal Country music to rowdy Rock ‘n’ Roll and rough-edged Southern Soul. Pierce also plays banjo, though if you’re listening and watching him pick, his playing has more of a classic Rock guitar sound; Parsons plays guitar – primarily handling the rhythm but, he also takes the occasional lead or offers up a tasty solo run. Jeffrey Salter, the other guitarist, does most of the heavy lifting, with lead and solo work; the rhythm section of Danny Vines on bass and drummer Randy Wade are rock-solid animals, providing a beefy bottom-end. Before delving into the “meat-and-taters” of their set, it should be duly noted that Banditos are, by far, the wooliest band I have ever seen; there is enough head and facial hair on display to supply toupees and wigs for the entire populace of a balding third-world country.

Banditos (Jeffrey Salter; Randy Wade; Danny Vines) (photo credits: DARREN TRACY)

Musically, the group hit the stage running with “Golden Grease,” one of eight songs on display from their self-titled debut. The tune highlighted the talents of Wade and Vines, as well as some nice guitar from Salter but, when Richardson sang that first note, it was obvious to everyone that she was a force to be reckoned with. According to Parsons, that and a handful of other songs from the evening’s set have been around since nearly the beginning of the band, and those tunes have kind of taken on a life of their own, with the band tweaking them on a nightly basis to keep them interesting for the players; the group, by this point, are working as a well-oiled machine on these numbers (and, in some instances, are straining at the bit to write and record new material so certain tunes can be “retired,” at least temporarily). This night, those tunes included “Long Gone, Anyway,” “Cry Baby Cry” and “Old Ways.” Alongside those original numbers, other highlights were Corey’s cover of an old Waylon Jennings B-side, “Waymore’s Blues”; a rockin’ new tune, sung by Stephen, called “Fun All Night”; Mary Beth hitting all the right notes on a frantic cover of Screamin’ Jay Hawkins’ “I Put a Spell On You.” Just like their album, Banditos live is a hard animal to nail down; they move and slide in and out of genres as easily as most of us change our clothes. “Cry Baby Cry” has a certain New Orleans flair while “Still Sober (After All These Beers),” despite the obvious Country title, is more of a surf tune with a lot of Dick Dale/Link Wray reverb-style guitar and “Waitin’” wouldn’t have sounded out of place as a June Carter/Johnny Cash duet. Some bands have success almost immediately and are gone almost before anyone even notices; Banditos is one of those groups that – like tonight’s headliners, Old 97’s – looks to have the staying power for a long career.

Old 97's (Rhett Miller; Murry Hammond) (photo credits: DARREN TRACY) — Old 97’s (Rhett Miller; Murry Hammond) (photo credits: DARREN TRACY)

Amazingly enough, as much as I like their music, this was the first time that I have seen Old 97’s play live. Not that I haven’t had plenty of opportunities, they have played everywhere from Mississippi Nights (a moment of silence, please) to the Pageant; the band loves Saint Louis and Saint Louis definitely loves them. The quartet’s sound still retains a certain NO DEPRESSION-Americana vibe though, with their propensity for a harder-edged punk rock esthetic, they come across more like their contemporaries in Wilco than the shared ancestral linkage of Uncle Tupelo. On this night, they started slow and (purposefully?) a little sloppy with “Give It Time.” All four players seemed somehow distracted, particularly frontman Rhett Miller; they soon found their groove, with bassist Murry Hammond (looking very much like a younger, more dapper Phil Lesh) and drummer Philip Peeples reigning in the wandering guitarists (Miller and lead player, Ken Bethea) and tightening up the arrangements on a set that was long on material from the latest album, MOST MESSED UP, and chock full of fan favorites from the band’s catalog. By the time they got around to the third number, “King of All the World,” the band was firing on all cylinders and Rhett was back to his usual acerbic self. The new tunes – including “Wasted,” “Longer Than You’ve Been Alive” and “This Is the Ballad” – fared quite well, while the classics – “Big Brown Eyes,” “Niteclub,” “Murder (Or a Heart Attack” and “Over the Cliff” among them – bristled with a renewed energy that, more than once, seemed to border on some type of “angry young man” passion.

Old 97's (Murry Hammond; Philip Peeples) (photo credits: DARREN TRACY) — Old 97’s (Murry Hammond; Philip Peeples) (photo credits: DARREN TRACY)

Miller, as expected, supplied the majority of the lead vocals, though Hammond lent his rather world-weary voice to a handful of tunes, including the Country stomp of “West Texas Teardrops” and the tear-drenched ballad, “Color of a Lonely Heart Is Blue.” As the group moved seamlessly from Country to Alternative Rock to Punk to flat out, steamrolling Rock and Roll, guitarist Bethea had a lead or a solo for every occasion, never faltering in his quest for the perfect guitar part for each song; likewise, Peeples and Hammond laid down the perfect groove, no matter what the style demanded. Rhett, though he continued to seem distracted by something at the back of the room (the monitor mix, mayhap?), tore through his songs like a man possessed, delivering the lyrics in a passionate, matter-of-fact style; he had worked up quite a sweat very early into the set, which seemed to fuel his zeal to give the crowd everything he had to offer. Much of the new material is a little… let’s just call it off-color, shall we? Miller delivered every F-bomb and every mention of booze or allusion to various body parts with a wink and a grin that had the faithful either laughing or singing along. By the time they got to the rollicking set closer, “Most Messed Up,” which ticked off all sorts of offenses, with Miller virtually screaming the refrain, “I am the most messed up mother fucker in this town,” both band and audience were ready for a breather.

Old 97's (Philip Peeples; Ken Bethea) (photo credits: DARREN TRACY) — Old 97’s (Philip Peeples; Ken Bethea) (photo credits: DARREN TRACY)

After a short break, Rhett returned to the stage for a solo rendition of the ballad “Most In the Summertime” from his latest release, THE TRAVELER; the song has a nice melody lurking behind the humorous, self-deprecating lyrics and you have got to love a guy that manages to work the term “barometric pressure” into a love song. Murry rejoined Miller for a lead vocal on the old-timey Rock and Roll of “Valentine,” which reminded me of a Buddy Holly tune with the Jordanaires singing back-up (and, yeah, I know that there were only two people singing, but the analogy is still valid). Ken and Philip took up their places and the foursome charged into what may be the coolest, funniest sing-along party song of all-time, “Let’s Get Drunk and Get It On.” After the quick Cowpunk of “Timebomb,” the group left the stage again; with the crowd demanding more, the lights came up, reminding me of the old showbiz axiom, “Always leave ’em wanting more.”

Old 97's (Ken Bethea; Rhett Miller) (photo credits: DARREN TRACY) — Old 97’s (Ken Bethea; Rhett Miller) (photo credits: DARREN TRACY)

It is obvious – and rightly so – that Old 97’s own Saint Louis; the band, Rhett Miller in particular, may have been slightly off but, the energy and enthusiasm of the packed Ready Room audience urged them on to a riotous good set. The one-two punch of the headliners and openers, Banditos, made for one of the best nights of flat-out great music to come through the Lou. If you missed this one, you certainly missed a good one.

DO THE ARCHITECTURAL WATUSI Live Music Reviews | Darren Tracy | November 4, 2015 | Alternative Rock Americana Banditos Blues Rock Corey Parsons Country Music Danny Vines Garage Rock Jeffrey Salter Ken Bethea Live Music Mary Beth Ruchardson Murry Hammond Music Old 97's Philip Peeples Pop Music Punk Rock Randy Wade Rhett Miller Rock and Roll Roots Rock Saint Louis Southern Rock Stephen Pierce The Ready Room

BLACKFOOT GYPSIES/BROTHER LEE AND THE LEATHER JACKALS

(October 11, 2015; THE DEMO, Saint Louis MO)

I am continually dumbfounded by this area’s music fans; things like Taylor Swift, Ariana Grande and Bruce Springsteen can sell out arenas, sometimes multiple nights in a row and everybody seems willing to turn out for a cover band playing in the corner of a bar somewhere but, a band like Blackfoot Gypsies plays to a nearly empty club on their first trip to Saint Louis in over a year. Yeah… I’m talking about you. You know who you are and so do I… ’cause you weren’t at the Demo last Sunday to catch what turned out to be one heck of a show!

Brother Lee and the Leather Jackals (Josh Eaker; Danny Blaies; Sean Kimble) (photo credits: DARREN TRACY)

The Gypsies hand-picked some old friends, locals Brother Lee and the Leather Jackals to open. The now-three piece have somehow managed to elude me to this point but, what a great band! Guitarist Josh Eaker hit the distort pedal before charging into the first song, “Outlaw Revival,” and didn’t touch it the rest of the night; the effect was a dense, late ’60s-early ’70s hard rock/boogie sound… think Leslie West during his Mountain-eering days, the Groundhogs’ Tony McPhee or that dirty sound Tony Iommi had on the first Black Sabbath record. The same era seemed to reference Eaker’s dress and facial hair; at first I was thinking of Lemmy in Motorhead’s early days but, it suddenly occurred to me that I was looking at a Duane Allman/Eric Clapton kinda hybrid. But, the question is… can the guy play? The short answer is, “Yes!” Give a listen to something like “Waltz Upon a Time In Mexico” or “Xanax and Cigarettes” or the drunken revelry of the bluesy Country sing-along, “Boredom Leads To the Bottle” and tell me that this sludgy, seemingly sloppy style doesn’t evoke the heavy psychedelic sound of the time period and the players listed above. By the way, Josh also acts as the power trio’s singer, with a voice that is a ragged approximation of George Harrison with a bit of John Lennon’s growl. As impressive as Eaker’s performance was, I haven’t even mentioned the rhythm section. Sean Kimble’s bass rumbled underneath, occasionally pinning the melody of a number, allowing Eaker to solo over the top; to call Kimble’s playing “gymnastic” in style would not be an exaggeration. Drummer Danny Blaies is so much more than a time-keeper, pummeling his kit like Keith Moon on steroids one minute, finessing it like the great Uriel Jones or Richard “Pistol” Allen of the legendary Motown backing band, the Funk Brothers. The give-and-take between Danny and Sean, as mentioned above, allowed Josh to take off on his incredible flights of fancy, knowing that when he needed them, they could draw him back into their miasmic groove. I know that, in Rock and Roll, no one player is irreplaceable, but I have a hard time imagining this group in any other configuration than Danny Blaies, Josh Eaker and Sean Kimble. Having found Brother Lee and the Leather Jackals, I cannot wait to hear where they go from here, either live or in a studio.

Blackfoot Gypsies (Matthew Paige) (photo credits: DARREN TRACY)

As ramshackle as the opening act was, the first couple of tunes of Blackfoot Gypsies’ set was even more chaotic and disheveled. With bassist Dylan Whitlow stalking in the shadows, stage left, harp blower Ollie “Dogg” Horton hiding out in the corner, stage right and Zack Murphy furiously attacking his drum kit behind him, vocalist and guitarist Matthew Paige is the consummate front-man, his strange, stream-of-consciousness banter and introductions the perfect match for his manic footwork and brilliant slide playing; he also bears a striking resemblance to both Slade’s Noddy Holder and the “Sunshine Superman” himself, Donovan Leitch, right down to Donovan’s hippy-chic couture. Paige also possesses a high, kind of nasally vocal style that is more than a little reminiscent of a very young Bob Dylan. Even as the music began to gel on stage, Matthew remained purposefully oblique regarding his stage patois, leaving the entire room feeling that he was playing and goofing just for them… a rare talent, not often seen with today’s disposable, cookie-cutter singers. Gypsies co-founder Murphy, a Hawaiian-shirted caveman, laid down a ferocious backbeat that never seemed to lose that Stonesy, bluesy groove no matter how hard he hit; Whitlow matched Zack’s groove, falling into that pocket that only the best rhythm section duos can find (in fact, while Murphy is more of a powerhouse style drummer than the Stones’ Charlie Watts, he and Dylan locked into what the other was doing in a way very similar to the way Watts and Bill Wyman did during their late ’60s-early ’70s heyday). Ollie offered a welcome change of pace on harmonica, never overpowering the other players, as can often happen, especially when soloing (I know that Blues Traveler and John Popper is a completely different animal, but listen to that band and listen to what Horton does with the Gypsies and you’ll understand what I’m talking about).

Blackfoot Gypsies (Zack Murphy) (photo credits: DARREN TRACY)

The band didn’t seem to have an official set list (none were visible onstage, anyway), with either Zack or Matthew suggesting a song, giving the key to Ollie and Dylan and charging into whatever tune was named. The set included several numbers from HANDLE IT, the group’s new record; those tunes included “Spent All My Money,” “Scream My Name,” “Dead On the Road,” “Pork Rind” and “Under My Skin,” all of which bristled with an urgency that you just don’t get from a studio recording. Another newish tune, “Everybody’s Watching,” is an infectious stomper with a Memphis soul groove that can be found on a split compilation called PIZZA PARTY, VOLUME 1 (three tracks each from four different bands); the call and response vocals between Paige and Whitlow add a nice layer to the group’s already solid sound. It seemed as though, whether he was rolling around the stage or on his knees or prancing around like a demented Mick Jagger, Matthew was capable of delivering spot-on solos, mostly – but not confined to – of the slide variety… there’s just something about the sound of a slide guitar or dobro that really gets to me and, Matthew’s affected me more than most.

Blackfoot Gypsies (Dylan Whitlow) (photo credits: DARREN TRACY)

My favorite moments of the show came when the band covered a song called “Charlie’s Blues” by a band called Denny and the Jets, as well as an unrecorded (and as yet, untitled?) Gypsies number about the insanity of celebrity. “Charlie’s Blues” is a wicked funny kinda drunken Country Blues that enumerates the lifelong string of events and misery that has given Charlie such a bad case of the blues, including Charlie’s wife driving the family pick-up (three kids included) into the lake and Charlie’s rodeo clown brother meeting his demise in the arms of another woman; the crowd response was rather like the song itself, with drunken hoots and hollers to match the depressing revelry coming from the stage. The other song features a chorus that goes “I wanna be famous/For bein’ famous/For bein’ famous/For nothing at all,” which turned into a great sing-along as the sparse but energetic crowd began to loosen up and appreciate what was happening on stage.

Blackfoot Gypsies (Ollie Dogg Horton) (photo credits: DARREN TRACY)

Speaking of what was happening on stage, Paige’s unwavering enthusiasm seemed almost to wear down the audience, rather than infect them; a shame, really, as these guys left everything they had on that stage. Please, Saint Louis, don’t be the kind of town that bands like Blackfoot Gypsies scratch off of their tour itineraries because you can’t be bothered to get out on a beautiful fall Sunday to be entertained by live music in a great setting… it’s already happened with bigger, more established bands, who will play Chicago and Kansas City and, if they play a show in between, it’s usually in Springfield (IL or MO) or Columbia. That’s just sad!

DO THE ARCHITECTURAL WATUSI Live Music Reviews | Darren Tracy | October 16, 2015 | Americana Blackfoot Gypsies Blues Rock Brother Lee and the Leather Jackals Classic Rock Country Rock Danny Blaies Dylan Whitlow Folk Music Garage Rock Hard Rock Josh Eaker Live Music Matthew Paige Music Oliver "Ollie Dogg" Horton Psychedelic Rock Punk Rock Rhythm and Blues Rock and Roll Saint Louis Sean Kimble Southern Rock The Demo Zack Murphy

DOUBLE THE PLEASURE: THE ZACK MURPHY INTERVIEW

BLACKFOOT GYPSIES AT THE DEMO, OCTOBER 11

Having been introduced to the Nashville band Blackfoot Gypsies, via their recently released second long-player, HANDLE IT, I have been on the lookout (begging their publicist, actually) for a Saint Louis date. That date has arrived! The newly engorged group will be playing at the Demo – on Manchester, in the Grove – this Sunday, October 11, 2015. For tickets, directions and everything you need to know about the show, check out the Demo’s site.

Founding members guitarist and vocalist Matthew Paige and drummer Zack Murphy have added bassist Dylan Whitlow and harmonica player Oliver “Ollie Dogg” Horton to the mix, freeing the duo up to concentrate on their instruments of choice (Matthew has added the fiddle to his instrument list) without sacrificing the larger, fuller sound that they are known for. The ten tracks on HANDLE IT range from Country to New Orleans Blues, Nashville Soul to straight out Rock ‘n’ Roll… sometimes, all within the course of one song. “Scream My Name” opens the album with a dose of RAW POWER-era Stooges punk; Paige’s fiddle and over-dubbed harmony vocals give “Spent All My Money” an authentic Country feel, while “In Your Mind” is a Stonesy “Gimme Shelter” rocker. There are Steve Marriott/Humble Pie hard rock tunes (“Dead On the Road”), a pop ditty that I find rather reminiscent of PET SOUNDS-era Beach Boys or, believe it or not, early Sonny and Cher (“So Be It”) and a slice of punky Americana (“Too Bad”), all of which I’m certain will sound great in a live setting. In anticipation and preparation for a night of bluesy, rockin’ Country hippified honky-tonk, I sent a few questions to the band via e-mail; Zack Murphy replied. Here’s that interview, wherein Murphy discusses the new dynamics in the band and what we can look forward to on a Sunday night in the Lou.

THE MULE: One of the biggest recent changes has been the doubling of the band, going from a duo to a quartet. What prompted the change?

ZACK MURPHY: Nothing other than finding the right people. We wanted to have a full band all along. At first, it just meant Matthew and I. After we found Dylan and Ollie Dogg, it was a perfect and natural fit, so there was really no reason not to add them. They have enhanced our sound so much, we would’ve made a mistake not to add them.

THE MULE: Discuss how the change in the band’s make-up has impacted the over-all sound of the group’s performances, both in the studio and in a live setting.

ZACK MURPHY: Matthew and I don’t have to worry about filling out the sound as much. We can play what we would normally want to play for each of our parts instead of having to also worry about if the sound is too sparse or not full enough. Also, Dylan plays better bass parts than either of us would, and Ollie Dogg plays better harmonica than either of us would, so that definitely helps in the studio.

THE MULE: How has your approach to writing changed since the additions of Dylan and Ollie? Is there more of a group approach with the new songs on HANDLE IT?

ZACK MURPHY: Definitely. Matthew writes the lyrics and such and then the band kinda shapes the song after that with all of our parts and we arrange and change and figure out a good foundation for the song. The songs never stop changing and growing cuz we like to play them at least a little, if not a lot, differently each time. But yeah, they have helped change what we would normally play, write, think of, et cetera.

Blackfoot Gypsies (Matthew Paige, Dylan Whitlow, Zack Murphy, Oliver "Ollie Dogg" Horton) (photo credit: JON MORGAN) — Blackfoot Gypsies (Matthew Paige, Dylan Whitlow, Zack Murphy, Oliver “Ollie Dogg” Horton) (photo credit: JON MORGAN)

THE MULE: The new music has sort of a very modern feel and sheen, production-wise, but the lyrics and the vibe are very much based in traditional Blues and Country. Can you give us a bit of insight into the things that have been most influential in giving Blackfoot Gypsies their sound?

ZACK MURPHY: Real music made by real people. We aren’t going for a vintage or modern vibe, we’re simply trying to be our own natural selves. Rock ‘n’ Roll, Country and Blues… it’s all there and it pretty much is the same stuff. It’s what we do best. We aren’t trying to reinvent the wheel, just make it move and groove.

THE MULE: Plowboy Records is a relatively new label run by veteran musicians and long-time industry insiders. What considerations went into the thought process of signing with a small indie label? How did the past experiences of Don (Cusic, who has worked in virtually every aspect of the music industry in a career spanning more than forty years), Shannon (Pollard, a thirty year music veteran and grandson of Country great Eddy Arnold) and Cheetah (Chrome, a co-founder of Cleveland’s legendary punks, the Dead Boys, as well as a producer and solo artist) influence that decision?

ZACK MURPHY: They just seemed really cool and laid back. Obviously they all knew the business, which has helped a ton, but they weren’t looking for a bunch of stuff that they could take from us and it seemed like a real natural and easy fit. Each one of those guys brings a lot of good experience to the table, so it’s nice to have them on our team.

Blackfoot Gypsies (Oliver "Ollie Dogg" Horton, Zack Murphy, Matthew Paige, Dylan Whitlow) (photo credit: JON MORGAN) — Blackfoot Gypsies (Oliver “Ollie Dogg” Horton, Zack Murphy, Matthew Paige, Dylan Whitlow) (photo credit: JON MORGAN)

THE MULE: When was the last time you played Saint Louis? Can you give us an idea of what we can expect when you play the Demo on Sunday night?

ZACK MURPHY: To shake your ass. We haven’t played STL since summer of 2014, so we’re pumped like Arnold to be back. We’re playin’ with some friends, Brother Lee and the Leather Jackals, so it’ll be nice to see those guys. Bring the confetti, we’ll bring the pinata. It’s gonna be a real good time, so treat yo’ self.

THE MULE: The tour runs through just before Christmas. What’s next for Blackfoot Gypsies?

ZACK MURPHY: Currently, we’re planning a European tour for 2016 and working on the next album. We are writing, rehearsing, and recording songs for the new album as we speak.

Thanks, Zack, for taking the time to answer these few questions. We look forward to seeing Blackfoot Gypsies at the Demo on Sunday!

You can order a copy of HANDLE IT on vinyl or CD at the band’s site, at Plowboy Records’ site or you can probably pick one up at the show. Come up and say “Howdy” if you make it out… I’ll be the guy right in front of the stage, drooling like an idjit.

DO THE ARCHITECTURAL WATUSI Music Features/Interviews Streaming Video | Darren Tracy | October 9, 2015 | Americana Artist Interview Blackfoot Gypsies Blues Rock Brother Lee and the Leather Jackals Classic Rock Country Music Dylan Whitlow Folk Music Live Music Matthew Paige Music Oliver "Ollie Dogg" Horton Pop Music Psychedelic Music Punk Rock Rhythm and Blues Rock and Roll Saint Louis Southern Rock Streaming Video The Demo Zack Murphy

HEARTLESS BASTARDS/ALBERTA CROSS

(September 29, 2015; OFF BROADWAY, Saint Louis MO)

Waiting on line for the show (photo credit: DARREN TRACY)

A couple of notes regarding life waiting for a show (and this show in particular) to start… specifically, a bit about the above picture, as well as the randomness of meeting and interacting with other music lovers before the doors to the venue are opened. The gentleman in the picture above happened to be in front of me, just hanging out in front of Off Broadway. I watched this mantis for quite awhile before deciding to take the photo; he didn’t move, didn’t twitch… nothing. I was beginning to think that the critter was dead or, mayhap, it was a plastic toy placed there by a demented prankster; there were, of course, a couple other options: The mantis was, in fact, lost deep in prayer or, he was inscrutable as all get-out. Curiosity eventually got the better of me and I tapped the wall about an inch from his perch. The bugger was very much alive and quite annoyed that I had disturbed his meditation; his head swiveled in my direction and his glare seemed to bore into my very soul for the next twenty minutes. Boys and girls, you have no idea the depth of the despair one experiences when being stared down by such a creature. Now, in this line of work, I don’t usually have too many opportunities to talk to a lot of people (or soul-devouring giant green beasts) before a show. Sound check for the show pushed doors back about twenty minutes, so there was a lot of hanging around waiting for them to open. Things can get a little goofy (to wit, my encounter with the praying mantis) when a group of strangers are standing about with nothing to do. Usually, though, everyone is genial, cracking jokes, asking where everyone else is from… that sort of thing; tonight was no different. One of the more humorous exchanges took place between myself and another man… a man much larger than me: I was leaning against the wall, close to the door; he asked, “So… are you a security guard?” “No. Why? Do I really look that imposing?” “Uh… no. Not really.” We all had a good laugh. Eventually, things got around to, “Who are you here to see?” I told the little group that I really liked Heartless Bastards, but I was really looking forward to seeing Alberta Cross. Apparently, I was the only one familiar with the group, as the questions then became, “What do they sound like? Why do you like them?” Shortly after guaranteeing everybody that they would love Alberta Cross, the doors were opened and our little group scattered to our various vantage points for the show.

Alberta Cross (Dave Levy; Petter Ericson Stakee; Rene Villanueva) (photo credits: DARREN TRACY)

Over the past couple of years, Alberta Cross has undergone a transformation; the duo (guitarist and vocalist Petter Ericson Stakee and bassist Terry Wolfers) has been halved, with Stakee becoming – for all intents and purposes – Alberta Cross. With a new, self-titled album still a little over two weeks away, Stakee and “friends” brought the new show to Off Broadway, leaning heavily on music from the new album. Petter’s new band featured a childhood friend from Switzerland, drummer Fredrik Aspelin, guitarist Dan Iead (who also played a bit of pedal steel), trumpeter/keyboardist (at the same time, by the way) Dave Levy and bassist Rene Villanueva, on loan from the band Hacienda. Most of them have been playing together live since earlier this year, honing the new material to a rock and roll sheen and giving the tunes an overall tougher sound than the studio versions.

Alberta Cross (Fredrik Aspelin; Petter Ericson Stakee; Dan Iead) (photo credits: DARREN TRACY)

A couple of things were evident from the beginning: Petter’s voice, while a bit reedy on record and during acoustic performances, has a huskier – dare I say – a heavier rock quality that fits this band and this material quite well; likewise, his guitar playing takes on a bluesy quality (amidst a few insane rave-ups) that brings to mind such players as Keith Richard and, yes, even the late ’60s trinity of Eric Clapton, Jimmy Page and Jeff Beck. The rhythm section more than held their own, with Aspelin proving to be an adept timekeeper, as well as delivering some well-placed, occasionally adventurous fills and Villanueva’s sonorous bass lines holding everything together nicely. Levy added his trumpet (and synth-produced brass parts) primarily to the newer material, which has a soulful, Memphis feel about it. With Iead matching Stakee in the intensity market on guitar and adding the occasional plaintive strains of the pedal steel, the Memphis vibe was even more evident. The material from the ALBERTA CROSS album – “Western State,” “Ghost of Santa Fe” and “Isolation” among them – has set a new standard for Stakee and Alberta Cross (in whatever form) to build on for future live appearances, while the new, beefed up sound has also infused songs like “Money For the Weekend (Pocket Full of Shame)” with a renewed vitality. This show was everything I had envisioned it would be… and more! Though I would certainly have preferred a longer, headlining set from Petter and his group, I must admit that they were the perfect opener for Erika Wennerstrom’s rampaging Heartless Bastards.

Heartless Bastards (Kyleen King; Erika Wennerstrom; Mark Nathan) (photo credits: DARREN TRACY)

The Bastards took the stage with Jesse Ebaugh on pedal steel, Mark Nathan on bass and super-utility player Kyleen King on second guitar for a hard-hitting version of “The Mountain.” Nathan and Ebaugh returned to their “natural” positions (Jesse on bass; Mark back to guitar) with Wennerstrom taking up an acoustic guitar for the first of several tracks from the recently released RESTLEES ONES, “Gates of Dawn,” which has a bluesy, sloppy, occasionally glammed-out Pretty Things meet Mott the Hoople vibe. Erika’s vocal style has been likened to Grace Slick but, I also get a touch of Bonnie Raitt… maybe that has more to do with her bluesy guitar and the strong Midwestern ethos she evokes through her lyrics. Whether she’s strumming or picking a beautiful melody or blasting jagged shards of noise and feedback, it is obvious that Erika Wennerstrom is a guitar player to be reckoned with… a force of nature, barely restrained by the confines of a simple pop tune; the fact that she makes it all seem so effortless merely adds to the mystique of Heartless Bastards‘ live sound.

Heartless Bastards (Dave Colvin; Erika Wennerstrom; Jesse Ebaugh) (photo credits: DARREN TRACY)

Erika’s bandmates proved they were no slouches themselves, as evinced by their beefy, Zepplinesque playing on “Got To Have Rock and Roll,” with drummer Dave Colvin and bassist Jesse Ebaugh adopting the heavy, funky groove of Bonham and Jones and Mark Nathan delivering monster power chords and a brilliantly conceived solo. New music, including the atmospheric “Pocket Full of Thirst,” the sludgy hard rock of “Wind Up Bird” and the fragile balladry of “Into the Light,” dominated the set to great effect; generally speaking, veteran bands are lucky to be able to incorporate two or three new songs into a set of old favorites without causing undo anxiety among their fans. It is a compliment to the Bastards and their fans that at least half of the evening’s set comes from an album that is barely three months old. The show ended with an incredible version of the anthemic “Parted Ways,” from 2012’s ARROW release, which, as the tune morphed into the pseudo-psychedelia of “Tristessa,” saw the band lean their guitars against their amps before exiting the stage, leaving Erika alone at her microphone amid the throbbing feedback. With emotions running high throughout the set, this finale was like an emotional bloodletting, like a launderer ringing out the last vestiges of dampness from a favored shirt. And, that, dear friends, is what a night of great music should be like, with artist and audience investing every ounce of their beings into a performance, drawing off the emotions emanating from both the stage and the floor.

DO THE ARCHITECTURAL WATUSI Live Music Reviews | Darren Tracy | October 4, 2015 | Alberta Cross Blues Rock Classic Rock Dan Iead Dave Colvin Dave Levy Erika Wennerstrom Fredrik Aspelin Hard Rock Heartless Bastards Jesse Ebaugh Kyleen King Live Music Mark Nathan Music Off Broadway Petter Ericson Stakee Pop Rock Rene Villanueva Rhythm and Blues Rock and Roll Saint Louis Southern Rock

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