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Angry folk-country-punk-blues, whatever, banjo wielding showman Eller sings dark and ageless tunes. An excellent and highly intriguing singer/songwriter who is based in New York City, Curtis Eller has successfully brought a variety of influences to his unorthodox folk-rock vision. The banjo-playing Eller’s work has an old-time feel, drawing on an abundance of direct or indirect influences from the ’20s, ’30s, and ’40s (including country singer Jimmie Rodgers, cowboy icon Gene Autry, and Mississippi Delta bluesman Robert Johnson). But Eller’s material is far from a carbon copy of music from that era — there is plenty of rock bite and attitude in his rootsy work, which also contains elements of Bob Dylan, Neil Young, and the ballsy outlaw country of Johnny Cash and Merle Haggard. Eller, consciously or unconsciously, reminds listeners what Dylan, Cash, Son House, Pete Seeger, and Haggard have in common — they are all known for being effective storytellers, and storytelling is where Eller himself shines.
The Queens resident is clearly fascinated by American history; he has written about the American Civil War, silent film star Buster Keaton (who he considers a strong influence), and aviatrix Amelia Earhart. Quite often, Eller’s subject matter can be dark; “Alaska” is about a mining disaster, and “The Execution of Black Diamond” was inspired by a bizarre 1929 incident in which a circus elephant was paraded through the streets of a small Texas town and “executed” (the mayor took the first shot) after attacking and killing a local woman. Circuses, in fact, are a major interest of Eller, who studied juggling when he was a kid and calls his band Curtis Eller’s American Circus. Eller has often said that his goal as a performer is to “capture the spirit of the Hartford Circus Fire of 1944,” a tragedy that cost 167 people their lives and became the worst disaster in the Connecticut city’s history.
A circus inferno is a bizarre way to measure artistic or creative success, but then, Eller’s eccentricity is part of what makes his work so interesting. A website on the history of Hartford has posted the lyrics to “Hartford, CT,” an Eller song describing the World War II-era tragedy. Another unusual thing about Eller is the way he plays the banjo, his primary instrument. Instead of playing it in an exuberant, bluegrass-like fashion, Eller often makes the banjo sound moody, haunting, and dark — in Eller’s hands, the banjo becomes the perfect instrument for songs about mining disasters and circus tragedies.
Originally from Detroit, MI, Eller listened to a variety of music when he was growing up in the Motor City — everyone from Son House to Iggy Pop. After leaving Detroit, he spent some time in North Carolina, where he was the musical director for a local theater troupe. But Eller grew disenchanted with the theater and moved to New York City (where he made music his primary focus). His third album, Wirewalkers & Assassins, continues to explore and expand upon the themes and influences (both musically and lyrically) from his previous work. Overall, the music on the album is a little fuller and darker than his previous albums.
Jordan Block
01. After the Soil Fails
02. John Wilkes Booth (Don't Make Us Beg)
03. Hartford Circus Fire, 1944
04. Sugar For the Horses
05. The Curse of Cain
06. Sweatshop Fire
07. Plea of the Aerialist's Wife
08. Daisy Josephine
09. Firing Squad
10. Save Me Joe Louis
THE AMERICAN CIRCUS:
Curtis Eller: Banjo, Lead Vocal
Chris Moore: Drums, Percussion
Gary Langol: Lasp Steel, Upright Bass, Organ, Mandolin
Joseph "Joebass" DeJarnette: Upright Bass
Liisa Yonker: Harmony Vocal
Marilee Eitner: Squeezebos and Harmony
Gerald Menke: Pedal Steel
Amy Kahn: Accordion
Rima Fand: Violin, Harmony Vocal
Link
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"Nature's creepy. It seeps into your wounds and infects you; it covers your trees with ice, and it stalls your car. It's not climate-controlled and it doesn't live in your home entertainment center. And it coats with dust and peppers with age "Through the Trees," the third record by the Handsome Family, the husband-and-wife duo of Brett and Rennie Sparks (he writes most of the music; she writes most of the lyrics). Expanding their sound from the standard bass, guitar and drums to include a wider range of instrumentation -- softer guitars, autoharp, banjo, Dobro, violin, bass, melodica, piano, a quiet, unobtrusive drum machine and Brett's sturdy, beautiful voice -- the Handsome Family create a strange amalgam of pre-World War II country music and a more current, subdued, slightly twangy rock, with lush but simple arrangements. They write songs with a perfect narrative arc, and they seldom waste time showing off; they just set to music tangled, tense stories that sit like perfect little objects of nature -- like pine cones or something.
Entering "Through the Trees" is like passing through the threshold of a cabin door and into the woods on the first day of spring, or just after an ice storm, into a mysterious world, one where "worms circle like sharks" and "crickets are screaming." In these settings the Handsome Family create emotionally wrecked characters who are constantly battling dangerous impulses as they roam around the woods -- or sometimes, through the streets of Chicago, where the Handsome Family live. In "Giant of Illinois," two boys who chanced upon a swan sleeping in the woods "stormed it with rocks till it collapsed in the reeds." In "My Sister's Tiny Hands," a girl, mourning the death of her twin from a snake bite in the forest, "set the woods to burning and choked the river up with stones." These are old-school country songs, grotesque and brutal, and through these narratives they offer something dumbfoundingly magical -- something far removed from anything remotely meta or post.
"Through the Trees" is also about relationships -- birth, death and the in-between -- and because a husband and wife are creating and performing these songs, an immediate context is laid before us: In "Cathedrals," the Handsome Family move from a cathedral in Cologne that "looks like a spaceship" to icy Wisconsin: "Hoping to feel love under the icicles, all we did was drink in an empty bar. But, stumbling drunk we crawled back to our motel room and I fell against you and felt your beating heart."
Underneath it all flows a debilitating sense of dread and awe; a restless black fog floats in the record's stomach, the result of playing with dangerous emotions -- fear, regret, passion, sorrow, loss and a steady stream of foreboding. The Handsome Family poke at it from different angles. Also inside is a wicked sense of humor that cuts through the existential dread. "My Ghost," the closing song on the album, tells the true story of a stay in a mental hospital: "Here in the bipolar ward if you shower you get a gold star. But I'm not going far till the Haldol kicks in -- until then, until then -- I'm stuck in this fucking twin bed and I won't get any cookies or tea, till I stop quoting Nietzsche and brush my teeth and comb my hair." Like some form of clairvoyant madness, "Through the Trees" sneaks in faintly, as though a whisper from a secret world -- one that's always there right outside the door, waiting patiently for an opportunity to consume you."
01. Weightless Again
02. My Sister's Tiny Hands
03. Stalled
04. Where The Trees Lean
05. Cathedrals
06. Down In The Ground
07. The Giant of Illinois
08. Down in the Valley of Hollow Loos
09. I Fell
10. The Woman Downstairs
11. Last Night I Went Out Walking
12. Bury Me Here
13. My Ghost
Link
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When Blanche first emerged in 2004, their mystique was part-rooted in how leader Dan Miller had previously spent time in a couple of late-’90s garage bands that included Jack White. For a while, they seemed happy to ride on the back of that connection. White strummed guitar on first single “Who’s To Say”, while Dan Miller’s creepy, often funny, countryphiles supported the Stripes on a major British tour.
The three-year interim has found Blanche in various states of health: backing Loretta Lynn on Van Lear Rose, sidelined by Miller’s new film career (he was in Johnny Cash biopic Walk The Line) and fielding rumours of a serious split. Thankfully, Little Amber Bottles is the work of a band recharged. Feeding off country’s primal impulse, they’re still the embodiment of Old Weird America. Visually, too, they’re spot on. The sort of shock-haired oddballs you’d expect to find stalking the back of the revival tent in O Brother, Where Art Thou?.
“What This Town Needs” finds both Dan and wife Tracee Mae in killer form – like Nancy Sinatra and Lee Hazlewood cavorting with The Gun Club. His voice is hard, hers oozes an odd warmth. Mrs Miller is best heard on “A Year From Now”, a gorgeous, loping ballad in which banjo and strings are eventually smacked aside by fat guitars. Her own “No Matter Where You Go” is eloquently plucked, aided by guest Isobel Campbell’s serene cello. Resident Blanche banjoist (and Raconteur) Jack Lawrence also offers his own fare, the heavily Gram Parsons-influenced “Death, Where Is Thy Sting?”
For the most part though, these are Dan Miller’s musings. The songs allude to hurdles overcome and demons placated, if hardly cast out. “We Didn’t Quit” is a dark relationship tale, while the initial calm of “The World I Used To Be Afraid Of” suddenly heads into murder ballad territory: “To let you turn your back on true love would have been a mortal sin/So I held you underwater until you finally gave in”. Unsettling to the last, it’s Blanche all over.
01. I'm Sure Of It
02. Last Year's Leaves
03. A Year From Now
04. No Matter Where You Go...
05. What This Town Needs
06. Child Of The Moon - Blanche, Jagger, Mick
07. Little Amber Bottles
08. The World I Used To Be Afraid Of
09. O Death, Where Is Thy Sting
10. I Can't Sit Down - Blanche, Traditional
11. (Exordium)
12. The World's Largest Crucifix
13. Scar Beneath The Skin
Link
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Country music is supposed to tell stories, and nobody tells better, creepier stories than The Handsome Family. These people are downright disturbing -- and disturbed -- which makes it more of a pleasure to hear what they have to say.
Brett Sparks writes the music, and his wife Rennie writes the lyrics. Together, they create dystopian portraits of murderous families, failed (and murderous) love affairs, despondent and hopeless humanity, and restless spirits. But these dark and dreary tales are usually packaged in a wash of purdy banjo plucks and guitar trills. Some songs are more somber, but most sound like cheerful jaunts in the park, until you listen more closely to the sinister and snickering lyrics.
Several years ago, when it seemed that music writers were coining a new term for "alternative" country every ten seconds (remember "y'allternative"?), The Handsome Family were turning out album after album of wry, intelligent, beautiful music that defied cutesy labels. They're still at it, mixing earnest country and roiling punk rock in ways that elicit both grins and grimaces.
In 2001, the duo left Chicago for the sunnier climes of Albuquerque, New Mexico, where they've continued to perfect their lyrical brand of classic-meets-avant country. Their new location hasn't changed their dark worldview much, though they have incorporated a bit of the desert twang and "Americachi" influences one associates with the Southwest into their already rich sonic palette.
"Set in a shadowy netherworld, Twilight reasserts the Handsome Family's position as modern-day descendants of the ancient country-folk surrealists gathered on Harry Smith's celebrated Anthology of American Folk Music. Rennie Sparks's songs are filled with animals ("Birds You Cannot See" and "White Dog") and natural images that are both carefree ("Peace in the Valley Once Again") and unnerving ("Snow White Diner"). The lyrics masterfully blend compassionate insight and a real sense of drama and tragedy with an eye for detail and humorous asides. Brett's vocal croon and his background in both experimental avant-garde and Texas rockabilly insures that the duo's music continues to grow far beyond its country roots. The Handsome Family happily flout convention but their stark beauty still shines through--these are some of the strangest and most compelling songs in the warped but wonderful world of alternative country."
01. The Snow White Diner
02. Passenger Pigeons
03. A Dark Eye
04. There Is A Sound
05. All The Tvs In Town
06. Gravity
07. Cold, Cold, Cold
08. No One Fell Asleep Alone
09. I Know You Are There
10. Birds You Cannot See
11. The White Dog
12. So Long
13. Peace In The Valley Once Again
Link
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"For over two decades, Howe Gelb has worked doggedly and double-time to make it all but impossible to get a good bead on him. In fact, while any number of prominent musicians and artists have joined his orbit, it's still unclear what musical planet Gelb lives on. So goes life in the Arizona desert, where Gelb, both solo and with his ongoing band Giant Sand, has endeavored to make the dust you blow off an LP every bit as important as the music itself.
The ongoing success and evolution of Giant Sand spin-off Calexico may do Gelb no favors in comparison, but the guy clearly doesn't need any. For something as seemingly unfocused as Giant Sand, the band's been remarkably consistent, and proVISIONS is no exception, its array of peyote rock, twilight ballads, space cowboy soundtracks, and spooky sidetracks off the beaten path on par with the band's best work. Still, Gelb doesn't hedge his bets, studding the start of the disc with a string of conspicuous ringers, including appearances by Neko Case ("Without a Word"), Isobel Campbell ("Stranded Pearl"), and M. Ward, whose debut Duet for Guitars #2 was released by Gelb on his OW OM label ("Can Do"). Another track, "The Desperate Kingdom of Love", was written by pal Polly Jean Harvey.
Gelb's no dummy. He knows these famous names will help newcomers pierce his self-adorned cloak of mystery. At the same time, Giant Sand's always been such an informal affair that he also knows that none of these friends will overshadow the music, which is comfortable hanging back in the shadows, anyway. It's there that you'll hear such touches as the return of the Voices of Praise Choir, veterans of 'Sno Angel Like You on "Spiral", or the occasional presence of singer Henriette Sennenvaldt of the somewhat obscure Danish band Under Byen.
Gelb has called Giant Sand "a mood," and that's sure true on cinematic songs such as "Increment of Love" and "Pitch & Sway". Later the loose funk of "Muck Machine", "Saturated Beyond Repair", and the stumbling, obliquely soulful "Belly Full of Fire" find Gelb more forceful and groove-oriented. The latter in particular showcases his unwavering gift for subverting his own strengths, disarming the hooky chorus with an off-kilter arrangement that doesn't sound like it could ever be replicated exactly as is.
It's there in the words, too, where Gelb's lyrics hint at (or overtly reference) Bob Dylan at his most surreal or Tom Waits at his most perplexing, offering wisdom through weirdness and winking wordplay. "Molecule, Molly is nobody's fool/ Comes from an excellent gene pool/ Happy little cells flippin' from her lip and/ Spend the night here screaming for the mother ship/ I ride along surfing on the waves of a lava hip," sings Gelb in "Increment of Love". Such inscrutability can be a real chore in the wrong hands, but with Gelb, getting lost has always been part of the fun. It's not about the destination. It's about the trip."
01. Stranded Pearl
02. Without A Word
03. Can Do
04. Out There
05. Desperate Kingdom Of Love
06. Increment Of Love
07. Spiral
08. Pitch & Sway
09. Muck Machine
10. Belly Full Of Fire
11. Saturated Beyond Repair
12. World's End State Park [Wordless]
13. Well Enough Alone
Thøger T. Lund - Bass
Anders Pederson - Guitar/Slide
Howe Gelb - Guitar/Vocals/Keyboards/Shovel
Peter Dombernowsky - Drums/Percussion
Link
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"While the term "Southern gothic" has become a shorthand description for the Sixteen Horsepower sound, Folklore suggests that the group has embraced the tag. They've redefined their brooding tone by constructing a ruined sonic landscape populated with sullen figures searching not for redemption but catharsis. Filled with murder ballads and tales of sin and redemption, Folklore is the sound of a sinner chasing away both the demons that torment him and the loved ones who fail to see that he has been haunted and changed. That stressful balance is embodied by David Eugene Edwards' wailing vocals, which remain a stunning hybrid of Gram Parsons' white-collar cowboy and Tom Waits' avant-garde crooner. Folklore is the dark side of Americana, almost completely devoid of the hopeful inflections that render so much of that musical tradition life-affirming.
Nearly half of the songs on Folklore are traditional compositions re-arranged and given new life by Edwards and company, which is a testament to 16HP's ability to craft such unique and absorbing atmospheres and textures from tunes that have been available for generations. The propulsive dirge of "Blessed Persistence" is a ghastly torch song, combining elements as diverse as the Violator-era atmospherics of Depeche Mode, the minimalist string arrangements of Rachel's and the stylized guitar sounds of Ennio Morricone's most famous spaghetti-western soundtracks. Imagine an exhausted Robert Plant fronting a vocal interpretation of Labradford's Mi Media Naranja and you'll begin to understand the depth and complexity of the track. Similarly, "Outlaw Song" recalls the dynamism of Zeppelin III, sprite acoustic instrumentation colliding with swelling bass sounds and galloping rhythms. Meanwhile, the raucous, foot-stomping sing-along "Single Girl" (a Carter Family composition) and the album-closing "La Robe a Parasol" are uptempo, uplifting numbers that stand in relief from Folklore's otherwise dark lyrics and sombre instrumentation. The dissonant interplay of violin and banjo on many of the tracks evokes contemporaries like Dirty Three and Palace, their decidedly modern perspective on loss and loneliness informing the timeless aura of the tunes. Each track is strong enough to stand on its own, yet fits with precision into the overall structure of the this Old Testament-fashioned epic.
Revealing itself slowly, like the mythic tales acknowledged by the album's title, Folklore is certainly Sixteen Horsepower's most stunning and accomplished work yet, and an easy nominee for one of 2002's best."
01. Hutterite Mile
02. Outlaw Song
03. Blessed Persistence
04. Alone and Forsaken
05. Single Girl
06. Beyond the Pale
07. Horse Head Fiddle
08. Sinnerman
09. Flutter
10. La Robe a Parasol
David Eugene Edwards: vocals, banjo, mandolin, bazuki, saz, nylon guitar
Jean-Yves Tola: percussion
Pascal Humbert: vocals and double bass
Link
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Originally released in Europe, Willard Grant Conspiracy’s sixth album, Let It Roll finally finds a domestic release for leader Robert Fisher’s weary baritone and frightening tales of probity.
Fisher’s relative anonymity stateside probably has a lot to do with the fact that he can be a challenging listen, and with ten songs clocking in at over an hour, Let It Roll is one tortuous record.
With somber visions and a voice that echoes late-period Nick Cave, Willard Grant Conspiracy is very much a thinking man’s Americana, providing listeners who don’t possess a modicum of patience little incentive to explore. But like some of those big-ass books still sitting on your shelf that appear too intimidating to start, Let It Roll can be an enjoyable read if you manage to find the time to sit down with it.
Starting with “From A Distant Shore”, a first-person account of a soldier preparing for battle overseas, Fisher wisely chooses to accompany the tale with a metaphoric trumpet and haunting violin. The subject matter is far from a pleasant one and it foreshadows some of the weighty themes that W.G.C. examines throughout the rest of the album.
The title track, one of the lengthiest songs on the disc, starts with three minutes of passionate guitar and violin turbulence before Fisher sets foot behind the mic with an equally intense murder ballad. By seven minutes, he’s defiantly yelling on his way to the gallows “There’s nothing to dying more than a ropes last whisper,” to the point where his voice has grown hoarse. Powerful stuff.
“Breach,” the second track to clock in at over nine minutes, strolls along like a last-call conversation, which can be either a provocation or pleasure depending on your own state of inebriation.
The liquor seems to flow again with W.G.C.’s cover of Dylan’s “Ballad Of A Thin Man.” Fisher gradually builds up Bobby’s ominous verses until he’s rasping the lyrics while guitarist Jason Victor creates some gruff six string verbalization of his own.
There are parts of Let It Roll which recall Dream Syndicate’s stunning The Medicine Show for good reason: Steve Wynn joins W.G.C.’s collective approach as a co-songwriter for the song “Flying Low” and backing vocalist. I’m sure the collaboration came from a feeling of mutual respect for one another and Fisher has found a great frame of reference in his own attempt at creating a commanding record.
As imposing as it strives to be, the unfastened quality of the performances oftentimes makes it seem too convoluted to receive the attention it deserves. But for those that can find the time to embrace it, Let It Roll turns out to be one helluva read.
"Boston-based music group Willard Grant Conspiracy sure knows how to make a music critic's job tough. Whereas most bands can be blithely described with a few words, WGC practically requires a new genre tag. Stylistically, it's got strong folk-rock and rootsy overtones but isn't exactly Americana. Instead, WGC couches the disquieting angst of Nick Cave and Leonard Cohen in the baroque-like elegance of Belle & Sebastian at their most melancholic. Lead singer Robert Fisher's smooth, contemplative baritone has a winning straightforwardness mingled with world-weariness and suspicion. On the ditty "Flying Low," he croons, "And I dreamed I saw the angels flying low/They encompass all that's good, or so I'm told." The album is lent orchestral savor by the regal-sounding violin/viola of Josh Hillman and the yearning trumpet of guest Dennis Cronin. Rendering Roll more cathartic than depressing is WGC's occasional forays into wrenching rockin' dissonance a la Roxy Music and John Cale-era Velvet Underground. Dylan fans may not like the droll, thundering rendition of his "Ballad of a Thin Man." With WGC, it appears that glum is good."
01. From A Distant Shore
02. Let It Roll
03. Dance With Me
04. Skeleton
05. Flying Low
06. Breach
07. Crush
08. Mary Of The Angels
09. Ballad Of A Thin Man
10. Lady Of The Snowline
Link
"On first thought, the idea of the Man in Black recording such covers as "Bridge over Troubled Water," "Danny Boy," and "The First Time Ever I Saw Your Face" might seem odd, even for an artist who's been able to put his personal stamp on just about everything. But American IV: The Man Comes Around, which also draws on Cash's original songs as well as those by Nine Inch Nails ("Hurt"), Sting ("I Hung My Head"), and Depeche Mode ("Personal Jesus"), may be one of the most autobiographical albums of the 70-year-old singer-songwriter's career. Nearly every tune seems chosen to afford the ailing giant of popular music a chance to reflect on his life, and look ahead to what's around the corner. From the opening track--Cash's own "The Man Comes Around," filled with frightening images of Armageddon--the album, produced by Rick Rubin, advances a quiet power and pathos, built around spare arrangements and unflinching honesty in performance and subject. In 15 songs, Cash moves through dark, haunted meditations on death and destruction, poignant farewells, testaments to everlasting love, and hopeful salutes to redemption. He sounds as if he means every word, his baritone-bass, frequently frayed and ravaged, taking on a weary beauty. By the time he gets to the Beatles' "In My Life," you'll very nearly cry. Go ahead. He sounds as if he's about to, too. Unforgettable."
01. The Man Comes Around (by Johnny Cash)
02. Hurt (written by Trent Reznor of Nine Inch Nails)
03. Give My Love to Rose (by Johnny Cash)
04. Bridge over troubled Water (by Paul Simon)
05. I Hung My Head (Sting)
06. The First Time I Saw Your Face (Ewan MacColl)
07. Personal Jesus (Martin L. Gore)
08. In My Life (John Lennon/Paul McCartney)
09. Sam Hall (Arranged by Johnny Cash)
10. Danny Boy (Arranged by Johnny Cash
11. Desperado (Glenn Frey/Don Henley)
12. I'm so Lonesome I Could Cry (Hank Williams)
13. Tear Stained Letter (Johnny Cash)
14. Streets of Laredo (Arranged and Adapted by Johnny Cash)
15. We'll Meet Again (Ross Parker/Hugh Charles)
Link
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Reverend Glasseye and His Wooden Legs' recent release, Black River Falls, is stirring up good reviews all over the nation.
It only takes a few words, a couple of yodels and an occasional shout to take any listener into a time-warping tunnel while listening to a 70-year-old man with a mustache belt out his sorrows.
This Boston-based band has a special sound: a melting pot of musical influences and curious instruments, from old-time medicine show music to gypsy jazz to southern gospel.
They are armed with traditional instruments that include clarinet, musette, flugal horn, banjino, dobro and qarqaba.
With tracks like "50% Murder," "Blood O' Lambs," and "Carnival of Pills," the sound is in one word: macabre.
These songs wouldn't make it to Billboard, but are suitable for a Hollywood Western. Fans are left with a whiskey-filled gut without ever taking a sip.
"The outrageously named Reverend Glasseye and His Wooden Legs look and sound as if they've just stepped out of an Edward Gorey drawing, complete with vaudeville street-corner instrumentation and waxed moustaches just itching to be twirled maniacally. Their swirling carnival sound and medicine-show vocals are one part Squirrel Nut Zippers, one part Tom Waits, and a... More hint of Sixteen Horsepower, with just a pinch of absinthe haze. Their 2001 release, Black River Falls, clunks and churns along with hints of klezmer and old-timey music peeking through the keyholes, recounting tales of preacher's daughters and tragic fishermen. While the band evokes an accurate period sound with some interesting quirks, the Reverend's theatrics tend to overshadow some fine songwriting at times, although that may be the whole point."
01. Midnight Cabaret
02. No Road Out Of Houston
03. 50% Murder
04. Blood O' Lambs
05. Penitentiary Highball
06. Seven Little Girls
07. 3 Ton Chain
08. Carnival Of Pills
09. Paddywagon Turban
10. One More Smoke
11. Black River Falls
Adam Glasseye (lead vocals, guitar, banjo, piano, organ, chimes),
Tim Maher (drums, vocals),
Piet Masone (organ, guitar, vocals),
Jon Wobesky (coronet, trumpet),
Kevin Corzett (alto & baritone saxophone, clarinet, vocals),
Wendy Emerson (vibraphones, piano, chimes, vocals),
Dennis Maher (bass fiddle, vocals)
Link
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Dirge-Country pioneers Strawfoot brings a dark sound of candy-coated salvation and hellfire damnation to the stage, weaving a dark tapestry of haunting, cautionary tales. Songs of outlaw scarecrows, wayward preachers, falling pianos, and the devil paint a dark and menacing landscape, creating an original sound steeped in the rich, dark history of America and beyond. A seven-piece band consisting of violin, banjo, harmonica, upright bass, guitar, percussion and mandolin, the Strawfoot congregation has quickly become a fan favorite wherever they take the stage, gaining fans across America and abroad.
During the Civil War, many soldiers didn’t know their left from their right. To teach them to march, hay was tied to their left foot, straw to their right. Rather than calling out “Left, Right, Left,” Soldiers marched to the cadence of “Hayfoot, Strawfoot”
It’s about marching forward.
Bubbling under the surface, there is a musical revolution. Creeping through the shadows, a collection of musicians and artists are gaining attention from the public eye as they push through the pre-fab world of pop, finding their way into the light. They look to the past with reverence, all the while pushing forward towards the future. As vast as the Mississippi , this revolution encompasses a melting pot of styles and influences.
Some call it Alt.Country, others call it Gothic Americana. Many have tried to categorize the sound, but the influences are far too expansive. This dark folk music takes listeners on a journey through time and circumstance with violins, banjos, harmonicas, accordions and mandolins mixing with electric guitars, powerful drumming and upright bass to create a dynamic, raw sound. Like a medicine show without the snake oil, the shows are filled with an incomparable energy.
"Strawfoot has created their own genre and accomplish this rare feat with blues guitar riffs, the country pluck of the banjo, fiddlin' and harp blowin'. The lyrics and vocals oscillate between humorous rants and painfully poetic pleas. These cats have always been a favorite in the Lou..Come one come all to the congregation!"
"Old-time revival and spirited dirge country band (Strawfoot) make fire and brimstone sound sweet."
“Preaching to a choir of local converts, the Reverend is flanked by his alt-country brothers and sisters. His songs flirt with damnation and sin, yet he always ends his sermons with a hearty Amen!"
01. Wayfarin' Stranger
02. Achilles Heel
03. Cursed Neck
04. Strawfoot Waltz
05. My Dog
06. The Lord's Wrath
07. Damnation Way
08. Cloth
09. Fiddle and Jug
10. The Sky Is Falling
11. Effigy
12. Wayfarin' Stranger (2)
Link
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"Back when I was just a boy, I was desperate to discover that new and unfathomable thing called music. Digging through all of the mysterious devices in the forboding dust of our basement, one day I discovered an old AM radio. With its fake- wood peeling off and single dial, it would always play better when I was touching it. I'd lay there in the darkness of my bedroom, trying to comprehend the tinny sound coming out, songs played by the DJs relegated to the radio wasteland of the dial that counted frequencies in the hundred and tens.
One evening at 9:05 PM I heard the song "The Devil Came Down To Georgia" and everything changed. I listened to that station every night thereafter at 9:05 PM in search of the song, my tiny mind seeking order in the chaos of radio. I eventually moved on to other things, but I never really forgot that fantastic song.
Perhaps it was the sinister content, the endless struggle between good and evil set to raucous southern fable that grabbed me, perhaps it was the otherwordly fiddle. I may never know. What I do know is that the memory of that song rose up like a redneck on malt liquor the moment I turned on Sixteen Horsepower's Low Estate. 13 tracks of fiddle, bass, bandoneon, drums, concertina, hurdy gurdy and cello, blended into a thoroughly sinister mix that speaks directly back to my AM radio and the feeling you get in a southern graveyard when you hear the wolves in the distance.
Low Estate is packed with dark, forboding images, both lyriaclly and instrumentally. Moaning cello telling a tale of ghostly "Phillys Ruth," a slightly picked guitar recounting a hanging, it's pure frontier storytelling that somehow reached my ears through a century of waiting. Deep country roots, fed by the blood of our ancestral criminals, prospectors and cowboys, Low Estate exhibits a true American originality so rare in a country obsessed with looking forward and forgetting the past."
01. Brimstone Rock
02. My Narrow Mind
03. Low Estate
04. For Heaven's Sake
05. Sac of Religion
06. The Denver Grab
07. Coal Black Horses
08. Pure Clob Road
09. Phyllis Ruth
10. Black Lung
11. Fire Spirit
12. Golden Rope
13. Hang My Teeth on Your Door
14. Ditch Digger
15. The Partisan
Link
pass: bluesmen-worldmusic.blogspot.com
