Greg Trooper. Incident on Willow Street.

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Released just in time to prime UK fans for his forthcoming tour Greg Trooper’s 11th album, Incident On Willow Street is another fine set from the man who has been praised and covered by the likes of Steve Earle and Billy Bragg. It maintains his position as a fine craftsman who takes elements of American music (including folk, country and soul) and carves them into his own unique style. Incident On Willow Street is more varied in its delivery than its predecessor, 2011’s Upside-Down Love which had a southern soul vibe about it. While Trooper can still deliver a drop dead southern ballad with keening steel guitar and gospel organ as on Everything’s A Miracle, one of the album’s highlights, overall there’s a more varied feel with up-tempo country songs and even some Celtic connections.
The opening song, All the way To Amsterdam is a fairly generic song which doesn’t prepare the listener for the heights to follow. It does introduce the sweet and mellow pedal steel tones of his lieutenant on this album, the multi instrumentalist Larry Campbell ( a stalwart member of Dylan’s never ending tour band a decade ago). Campbell is all over this album and maybe instrumental in the rootsier feel. His mandolin drives Good Luck Heart, the second song here and by now Trooper’s building up a head of steam as this initially jaunty song is beefed up by some excellent country twanging and the band is swinging mightily by the end. A blistering song. Steel Deck Bridge reflects the American dream of endless optimism that there’s something at the end of the rainbow. A great performance it builds in intensity as Campbell on guitar and steel guitar piles waves of sound over the solid beat. One Honest Man is the other guitar whacked number here with Campbell hitting the scales on a New Jersey tales of walking the mean streets.
Trooper ditches the urban feel for the remainder of the songs with Amelia a gentle love song buttressed by tender pedal steel while This Shitty Deal has a Mexican cantina type delivery as Trooper sings of a poor dope cuckolded by a femme fatale and who blames himself. The Girl In The Blue is another border song with Campbell adding some south of the border fiddle and it’s infectious as hell. Diamond Heart is a neat little loping country number with fiddles blazing away over a Floyd Cramer like piano bed and a Celtic lilt that reflects the impact the old world music traditions had on the new world. Trooper updates this musical miscegenation on the ribald Mary Of the Scots in Queens where he tells the tale of his unrequited lust for the titular Mary but is whipped and defeated by her eventual husband “Irish Brian.” Trooper and his band mates go all out here for a “folk rock” sound which resembles the early solo Richard Thompson and it’s a fair bet to say that this song will be a real crowd pleaser.
Trooper is touring the UK in October with several Scottish dates, check then out here

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Craig Hughes. Losers and Bastards. Channel Nowhere Records.

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Obviously going all out for the Radio Two audience Glasgow blues behemoth Craig Hughes‘ latest album, like a previous effort, Pissed Off, Bitter And Willing To Share, takes no prisoners and accepts no compromise when it comes to describing what he is singing about. You might not hear Hughes’ grizzled voice beaming at you while you have your cornflakes (although local Americana show Sunny Govan Switchback has been championing the album) but one gets the impression that Hughes is not in it for the fame but is compelled to record his bleak tales peopled with wretched, well, losers and bastards, and if folk like them then so be it.

Losers and Bastards is Hughes’ second full length release (third if you count his split double disc with Sleepy Eyes Nelson) and sees him once again in the company of Tommy Duffin who drums and plays “boom-chicka-boom” guitar on one of the cuts. Hughes reprises the mix of acoustic slide guitar and stomping razor bladed electric blues wails that he showcased on his last release, Hard Times Vol. 1 (which was voted best blues EP of 2012 by American mag Blues Underground Network). His lyrics too are a mix of despair and grim humour and on a couple of the songs here he proves himself to be a great chronicler of Glasgow life with one of the songs, Future After All reading as if it was an excerpt from a James Kelman story.

The album opens with the foot stomping acoustic blues of Happy Man Cries, an open wound of a song that recalls Richard Thompson’s End of the Rainbow in its pessimism as Hughes sings of a kid’s joy and reminds him that it won’t last as “life’s not as much fun as it seems.” That kid, now grown up, might be the subject of Jam Jar Wasp Trap, another acoustic trip which describes an empty life of staring at the television vicariously grasping at celebrities and ultimately ending up like “an old man in a brothel who can’t get it up.” Next up Hughes plugs in for the dirty blues stomp that is Last Orders (When I Die) as he wonders who will mourn him when he’s gone and plays some mean slide. Future after All is a life in miniature as the protagonist expresses a futile optimism after a small lottery win which is soon drank away and he sinks amidst the morass of his life wondering where his next drink is coming from. A bleak tale but Hughes expresses it with some wonderful imagery and a fine Glaswegian existentialism as he blames the possibility of nuclear annihilation for his having no ambition other than to drink. We mentioned James Kelman earlier on but it’s not too fanciful to compare this to the sordid ballads of Jacques Brel as well.
For Dressed in Rags Hughes sticks on an imaginary Stetson and goes all ZZ Top on us while Beans and Bread is another poverty ridden tale but delivered with some humour and a breathless chorus. White Water is the most upbeat number here with a touch of country blues as Hughes sings of a femme fatale and waxes poetically
“As the years go by I think of her from time to time/Out of the blue her smile might come to mind/And I recall losing her, the way she turned back as she left/And that faraway look in her eyes/She wasted her youth going further and faster/She fell for successive losers and bastards/She was a kindred spirit and I was drawn to her.”
With his growl of a voice one would never expect to accuse Hughes of showing a little tenderness but here he shows that we all have our soft spot and everyone has a shot at romance, successful or not. Everybody’s Got to Cheat and Lie Sometimes might turn out to be Hughes’ anthem as he churns out a Woody Guthrie type manifesto over a rough beat and some scintillating slide guitar. A Strongman and an Acrobat visits Blind Willie Johnson territory on an evil sounding acoustic slide number with voodoo lyrics and he wraps the album up with the rollin’ and tumblin’ boogie of Wood and Wire which declares that when the chips are down a guitar is a poor man’s best friend.

As usual Hughes is offering Losers and Bastards on a pay what you want basis for the download however for a measly five quid you can get the CD package with a lyric sheet and it’s well worth every last penny. check it out here.

The Coals. A Happy Animal.

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It’s always nice to open up an album from an unknown band and to be, well, blown away by the music therein. The Coals is perhaps at best a fairly nondescript name for a band with no real indication of what they’ll sound like (apparently they are named after a bar in L.A., weird name for a bar I think) and the cover art, a washed out picture of a naked woman sitting on a hillside close by a dog, seems to be, well, random and given the title of this mini album, mildly disturbing. Several days and several plays later we still think The Coals isn’t the greatest brand name in the world (although its growing on us) but the cover strikes us as a sly joke given the sense of humour apparent on the band’s website and their determination to bring a sense of laidback joy to their audience. The album title is from a Leonard Cohen poem, not one of his happiest called How We Approached The Book of Changes where he asks to be released from his human form in this “miserable and bewildering wretchedness” and be instead, “a happy animal,” presumably released from the cares, miseries and woes of the world, happy to just wag a tail and sit innocently beside a siren.
Enough already of the pseud’s corner analysis. After all there are only eight songs here clocking in at under a half hour but we can safely say that listening to A Happy Animal is a half hour you’ll not regret losing and indeed that many more will disappear under the mellifluous influence of The Coals. They’re from California and are led by singer and songwriter Jason Mandell whose laid back vocal delivery recalls the young Kris Kristofferson and Dylan’s brief baritone circa Self Portrait The band (Mandell, guitar, vocals, Darice Bailey, keyboards, Peter Hastings, bass, Greg Eklund, drums, Andy Tabb, guitar and Jack Arky, accordion) slip easily between styles with country folk, gospel blues and Mexicali all featured.
The album opens with a brief snippet of a street corner preacher warning that “destruction will come to Los Angeles, God will destroy Los Angeles for its sin” (echoes of the Burritos here folks) before Redeem Me, a free flowing country flavoured jaunt with Mandell almost purring the lyrics opens the album proper. Dirt Road is a rambunctious barrelhouse country song that sounds as if it was unearthed from The Basement Tapes and it’s over all too soon, a pity as the band’s playing is exuberant with fine piano and percussion driving it along. Let Me Down Easy lowers the temperature as Mandell sings a heartfelt love song over some striking Dobro playing. Maria takes us into Tijuana territory with Mexicali trumpet added to the mix, it’s a fine addition to the canon of Tex-Mex influenced California songs and one that we return to time and time again. Hand To Hold is a minor gem as Mandell visits the glory days of the LA troubadours and sings resignedly of the burden of relationships as rippling acoustic guitar and fine harmonies on the chorus recall the simplicity of James Taylor and the craft of John Prine. It’s an excellent song and encapsulates all that has to be said in less than two minutes, no fat here. Steal My Heart is a very laidback honky tonk number with barroom piano and a fine Dobro solo all delivered with a loping devil may care attitude. Another excellent song. Baseline Blues excavates the early Kristofferson along with a whiff of Cohen and even Lee Hazlewood as Mandell is accompanied on vocals by Sally Dworsky and the listener should be astonished at the quality of Mandell’s writing and the band’s delivery as this is as good a song as we’ve heard all year. Mandell sings “Tried to say I need I you without saying that I do, Tried to make you see what kind of hell you put me through, baby I just can’t help but wanting you” over a majestic piano led Muscle Shoals type melodrama that excites through and through. After this the ragtime Lord, Lord, Lord is almost an anticlimax but again the boogie piano and general bonhomie gives it a rousing feel. If we rated albums this would be a 10/10. The only quibble is its brevity as we could listen to this all night.

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Will Varley. As The Crow Flies. Smugglers records.

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26 year old Will Varley is an author, artist and performer full of piss and vinegar, occupied with the Occupy movement and involved in the DIY ethos of his label Smugglers Records. To promote his first album he didn’t play the usual circuit, instead he embarked on a 140 mile walking tour playing to anyone who wanted to listen.
As The Crow Flies is his second release and showcases his strong vocals, guitar dexterity and his fine song writing skills. Varley works in the folk tradition and he proves he can deliver in the traditional fashion with the powerful and chilling tale of a Shaman’s deception on Blood and Bone which could have graced the likes of Traffic’s John barleycorn album or any one of Fairport Conventions latter efforts. For the most part however he reflects the sixties singer/songwriter revolution and he succeeds spectacularly well in this with some songs that are wonderfully crafted. Where The Wild Wind Blows opens with a description of a bucolic Eden the singer has to leave for an uncertain future. Similar to the early poetry of Dylan with a nod to Roy Harper it’s a fine curtain raiser. Weddings and Wars continues down the same road as Varley sums up Man’s achievements over the ages and finds them for the most part destructive and deadly. His voice spits vitriol here and again one is reminded of the angry young Harper when he sang songs such as I Hate The White Man. Soldiers on The Wall is an apocalyptic vision of the future which envisions states from Morocco to New York policed by the titular guards. Delivered in a hazy fashion we’re unsure if this is a dream or a vision but it’s a powerful message.
There are several songs which sound more personal although political nuances are never far away. The title song is a wonderful piece of nostalgia as Varley recollects images and instances from his youth as he goes back home while She’s Been Drinking is the sorry tale of a promising life going down the drain due to addiction. His lyrics are evocative and engaging with some excellent imagery throughout while the accompaniment from fellow Beggars Records artists Cocos Lovers cocoons the songs with a delicate touch.
Finally we must mention two songs that offer some levity to offset the gloom that pervades the album ( although we must say that gloom is good). Both are in the vein of Dylan’s humoresque talkin’ blues with I Got This E-Mail a genuinely funny tall story where the protagonist is sucked into a Nigerian scam, eventually marches on Whitehall only to find that David Cameron has fallen for the same scam. The scabrous Self Checkout Shuffle will appeal to all who use these automated supermarket guardians and anyone who fantasises about supermarket romances.

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Ed Askew. For The World. Tin Angel Records

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Ed Askew has been a secret for four decades. A New York artist and teacher who released one album on the ill fated ESP Disc label (home to The Fugs, Holy Modal Rounders, The Godz and Albert Ayler) back in 1968 he then all but disappeared from view. But these days popular music likes to regurgitate its past and just like Vashti Bunyan, Rodriguez and most recently Shelagh McDonald Askew has climbed back into the limelight, rubbing his eyes and, tentatively at first, looking around him. His revival started with the release in 2007 of his second album (which he recorded in 1970!) followed by two new albums Rainy Day Song in 2008 and Imperfiction in 2011. All were solo efforts with Askew playing an instrument called a Tiple (somewhat like a ukulele only with ten strings) on his first album then adding keyboards to the latter ones. For The World is his first collaboration with other musicians including Marc Ribot, Jay Pluck, members of The Black Swans and Sharon Van Etten.
Now in his early seventies Askew’s voice remains somewhat unique. He’s acquired a slight patina with age but remains a trembling tenor sounding as if he’s carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders. There’s a slight similarity to Will Oldham in his idiosyncratic delivery while John Cale also comes to mind (without the Welsh lilt). The songs for the most part are sepia toned meditations and fables which betray his sixties origins while the music is dominated by an old fashioned piano sound like your aunt playing in the parlour. Delicate stringed instruments including harp wander in and out of the simple melodies while a lonesome country harmonica adds an almost Neil Young ditch feel to some of the pieces.
The album opens with the rolling piano and plaintive harmonica of Rodeo Rose. Askew sounds world wearied as the piano repeats itself with only some crepuscular guitar from Ribot to break the circle. It’s almost as if the itinerant vagrant who mumbled the words to Gavin Bryars’ Jesus’ Blood Never Failed Me Yet had found a voice and penned some lyrics. Mesmerising. Blue Eyed Baby is another circular song with Askew agog at the wonders of nature and he sings it with a sense of wide eyed wonder. Gertrude Stein is a simple homily to the poet and her poem Sacred Emily as Askew recalls his past and simply wishes these days to be able to sit and forego these memories and think of nothing at all. It’s a brief song and reminds one of Tom Rapp, another artist who recorded for ESP Disc back in the sixties.
Rapp’s band, Pearls before Swine, comes to mind again on So, a halting and mysterious song which is almost like a series of Haikus linked together on a necklace of haunting piano. Moon In The Wind brings back the lonesome harmonica while the piano plinks on while Drum recalls the likes of Weimar artist Joachim Ringelnatz’s poetry and declamation. Baby Come Home is the most sprightly song on the album with Askew hitting an early Dylan vibe while the closing title song is a rickety fable about the joy of singing and at the end of the day it’s a joy to hear Askew singing again.
Ed Askew might be an acquired taste (he’s in regular rotation on Stuart Maconie’s Freak Zone) but this album should be lapped up by anyone interested in the wider shores of folk and outsider music.
Buy it here

Brandy Zdan. Lone Hunter

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Brandy Zdan first came to our attention as one half of Twilight Hotel whose fine album When The Wolves Go Blind we reviewed last year Lone Hunter is her debut solo release and is advance notice of her forthcoming UK tour (including a Scottish date at The Torpichen Inn, West Lothian on Saturday October 19) where she will be accompanied by Awna Teixeira of Po’ Girl and Cara Luft under the clumsy moniker of The ABC of Canadian Music. A six song strong mini album it truly is a solo effort as Zdan plays most of the instruments on the disc including guitar, percussion, lap steel, synthesiser and Wurlitzer. She is assisted by producer George Reiff on percussion and guitar on one song while Ricky Ray Jackson adds pedal steel to two others. In the vocal department Jamie Lin Wilson and Kelley Mickwee 0f The Trishas (with whom Zdan is a touring member) add backing vocals on O Where.
Zdan’s crystal voice rings throughout the disc and although she’s based in Texas these days several of the songs have that northern America/Canadian sense of frosty wide spaces that one imagines haunts artists from north of the 49th Parallel. The title song in particular is a bare boned haunting number that seems to be about loss and despair and an eventual longing to return to the earth and elements, perhaps an allusion to Into The Wild, a book about going into the wilderness to die.
This stark approach continues in I Remember When You Used To Love Me, a tear stained letter with dramatic percussion and Does Everything Break, another song about lost love that has a keening pedal steel that highlights the loneliness expressed in Zdan’s plaintive voice. Pedal steel is used to good effect again on O Where, another song of loss which features naive hope instead of despair as Zdan forlornly believes her baby will return “in summertime, when all is green.”
Two songs are more upfront in their delivery with an echo of the moodiness of her band Twilight Hotel on the opening song Mourning Dove (co-written with Dave Quanbury, the other half of the band) with its whammy guitar flourishes and noirish sensibility. Blood As The Ink stands apart from the other songs however as a burbling new wave like bass line and fuzzy guitar solos zip past in a flash somewhat disturbing the overall mood of the disc.

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Jim Croce. I Got A Name. Demon Records Unchained Vinyl Edition.

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It’s great to go into an indie record store these days and see that the vinyl shelves are expanding to accommodate the increasing amount of music that’s being pressed on 12″ these days. Boosted no doubt by the popular Record Store Day event a great many new releases are getting at least a limited pressing while there is a growing market for vinyl reissues of classic, rare and “lost” albums. While labels such as Sundazed and Rhino have been doing this for some time Demon Records have recently thrown their hat into the ring with a run of limited edition of heavyweight vinyl releases from the likes of Ian McCulloch, Jim Croce, Foghat The Beat, Sugar, T.Rex and Deacon Blue.

The Jim Croce album, I Got A Name, was the one that caught our eye with memories of hearing his albums being played almost ad nauseam in the wake of his death (in 1973) at various parties (we didn’t dance in those days, we listened to albums, man…) flaring up. Our knowledge of him over the years was eventually whittled down to just three songs, Time In A Bottle, You Don’t Mess Around With Jim and Big Bad Leroy Brown all of which pop up from time to time on oldies radio and occasional soundtracks. In fact a soundtrack might be the reason for Demon choosing this release, Croce’s third and last album (which was released posthumously) as the title song recently featured in Quentin Tarantino’s latest movie Django Unchanged.

So having listened to the album the verdict is that Croce was an accomplished writer and singer and the songs are all well performed, polished and shiny and very radio friendly. You can hear why he hit the charts in the States at a time when the likes of Loggins and Messina and America were considered rootsy while a bunch of folk in the UK bought his albums in the wake of his appearance on The Old Grey Whistle Test. He doesn’t sound dated mind you and the title song and I’ll Have To Say I Love You In a Song are superior soft rock ballads. However without the above mentioned three songs present it’s likely that this reissue will only appeal to diehard fans and collectors with the general public happy to pick up a greatest hits CD. Those diehards will have to move fast however as this vinyl reissue is limited to 500 copies on red, 180 gram vinyl also including a download card.

Buy it here

Benjamin Folke Thomas. Too Close To Here. (Bucketfull of Brains)

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A Swede domiciled in the UK Benjamin Folke Thomas has been making a bit of a name for himself on the London scene as a singer/songwriter in the Dylan mould and an accomplished guitar picker. He released an EP in 2010 and now follows that up with his debut album Too Close To Here which does beg comparison with Mr. Zimmerman from time to time but allows him to shine as his own man albeit with a slew of influences and which raises a suspicion that had he been the next Dr. Who he would have set the Tardis to land on the cusp of the sixties and seventies.
Thomas wanders through various styles on the album with some songs reminiscent of the dexterity of Pentangle while there is a whiff of the romanticism of Al Stewart (before he went all FM) along with a hint of the American influenced pub rock that included Ducks Deluxe, Brinsley Schwartz,Sniff ‘n’ the Tears and even the early Dire Straits especially on the opening song, Someday. Love Somebody which follows has an endearing rough and ready delivery with the band teetering on the edge of losing the beat but always recovering just in time. Thomas next delivers his first killer song, Blues For You which mixes Dylan, Fred Neil and Davey Graham in equal measure as his gruff voice reaches back into sixties folk blues and comes up with a bittersweet love song that stands up well in comparison to many standards of that era with lines like ” my lungs are heavy and my skin feels weak my soul rattles every time you speak your eyes are pretty but all I see is sin.”
Extend No Greeting is another superb song which recalls the raga guitar sagas folk listened to while wrapped up in fragrant smoke while the emotive Bye Bye Baby (Bye Bye) stands out by dint of the lyrics which name check Warren Zevon while recalling Bruce Springsteen over a backing which could have been laid down by the Band on Planet Waves.
All this talk of influences runs the risk of tagging Thomas as an “oldies” or tribute act but he has the talent to channel these influences into an album that’s vibrant and exciting so that the motor mouth talking blues of OK Blues takes Dylan by the throat and drags him into the 21st Century while I’m Alive resurrects Ronnie Lane for one more whirl around the campfire. In the meantime a song like Let Her Down, the centrepiece of the album that has a spine chilling feel as the guitars summon up supernatural sounds is proof that Thomas can update a folk ballad tradition and add his own lyrical sparkle to it. Superb stuff.

Bucketfull of Brains website

Bo Porter. Try It, You’ll Like It and Rod Balch, Fort Worth 76102

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A few weeks back Blabber’n’Smoke reviewed a Fairport Convention reissue that appeared in the post. Now Fairport were one of our favourite bands back in the early seventies and they do fit the Blabber’n’Smoke mission statement (N.B. there is no mission statement here, we do as we like) so we listened and grooved to it and then wrote about it. Hell’s bells! The viewing stats went through the roof (helped by No Depression featuring the review) and we had our moment in the sun. Very tempting then to churn out more reviews of fairly well known bands (and we will from time to time) but we exist to benefit from and to raise awareness of the multitude of acts out there who work at the coal face of contemporary Americana type music. Some are well kent to aficionados (like Sam Baker, Dave Alvin or the genius that is Howe Gelb) while others may be local legends who have the opportunity to wax on wax (or plastic as it were) and whose offerings end up in our postbag.
So today we celebrate the unknowns with a pair of releases that are top notch and will probably be mentioned in blogs here and there and get a few radio plays especially on the continent where Americana type music has a deep fanatical following. There’s a whole load of moaning going on about the internet destroying music but without it there’s no doubt that we wouldn’t have the opportunity to sings these guys praises.
Bo Porter and Rod Balch are no spring chickens , they fit the Hollywood stereotype of self made men, raised on Harley Davidsons, braving audiences behind chicken wire, as able to fix an engine as to pen a song, tough as nails but with music in their veins with Texas being the primary infusion.

Bo Porter hits pay dirt with his Try It, You’ll Like It, a short sharp lesson in goodtime country, swing and rockabilly. With a shit hot crew in tow he could fill in for the Blasters if they failed to turn up on the night and you wouldn’t feel short-changed. His voice is stained with years of experience and his relaxed delivery even encompasses a chortle on She Likes Living In Texas as he delivers a list of things he likes about his partner. Starting off with a narrative in his best Sam Elliott style Porter tells of how “she likes smoking her breakfast when the sun comes up, local honey in her coffee cup” while the band deliver a wonderful Tex Mex accompaniment that is reminiscent of Willie Nelson, accordions and all. With a mixture of plangent ballads and rip roaring rockers featuring honky tonk guitar licks and rockin’ accordion probably the best way to describe this album is shitkicking and that means good. The closing song I Was Born Like This is the best Waylon Jennings song that Waylon never wrote.

Next up is Rod Balch, a Fort Worth resident who actually fixes Harley Davidsons for a living and plays the local clubs at night. He’s been doing this for years but now he’s got an itch to expand his frontiers and this album, Fort Worth 76102 is his calling card for promoters and listeners worldwide to open their doors and offer him the chance to entertain them. As such it’s an excellent showcase for his eclectic vision of Texas music which encompasses folk, country and blues much as the late lamented ambassador for Texas music, Doug Sahm did. Teaming up with NewTex Records head honcho Steve Satterwhite (who wrote the majority of the songs here and produced) they’ve gathered a small multitude of local luminaries who between them have played with the likes of Jerry Garcia, Delbert McClinton, Bobby Bare, Freddie King, John Mayall, David Bromberg, Waylon Jennings and George strait, a pedigree that’s apparent in the easy way they all swing into action with a tremendous sense of ensemble playing and some zinging solos popping up all over the place. Balch sings with an easy voice with a very slight sense of early Kristofferson cool detachment while the band swings along behind him sounding at times like Asleep At the Wheel, Commander Cody’s Lost Planet Airmen or The Lost Gonzo Band, Texas music at its best. As for the songs there are 16 packed into less than an hour here and everyone is a belter and each time we’ve listened to the album a new favourite emerges. Balch celebrates the usual suspects of booze(Rehab Rendevous, The Bar Song, Beer Here) , hard times (The Red Truck), girls (Blood In My Eyes) and prison (Jesus In Jail). Be they beer stained laments or rocket fuelled Texas tornadoes they’re all minor masterpieces and its astounding at times to remind oneself that this is an album by a Texas bike mechanic who plays music in his spare time. Special mention (at least on this latest listen) for a few of the songs. Carla’s Room is the story of Karla Faye Tucker (whom Mary Gauthier has also written about), a tale of drug abuse and murder and its given a suitably grave delivery. The Alamo is a classic country rock glide where folk live their lives through the silver screen but top of the list right now is Vagabond Magazine Blues which corrals Woody Guthrie as if he wrote for the Hollywood Reporter. All in all this is an excellent listen and hopefully Balch will make it over here at some point.

The good folk at NewTex Records have given us a spare copy of Rod Balch’s album for one lucky reader so if you want it pop over to our Facebook page and tell us why you want it.

Bo Porter website


Rod Baltch at NewTex Records

Doc Feldman & The LD50. Sundowning At The Station. (This Is American Music.)

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It’s been a while since we’ve come across a record label has the feel of being a trademark of quality in that it’s a fair bet that if they release a disc then it’ll be well worth exploring. Elektra, Stiff, SST, Bloodshot have all had their moments in the sun when this was true of them. This Is American Music (or TIAM), a labour of love for some Americana fans in the deep south has in the three years it’s been running built a solid reputation with releases from Glossary, The District Attorneys, Great peacock and Hurray For The Riff Raff. They’ve a slew of new releases hammering to be heard including Bonnie Whitmore, Have Gun Will travel and this offering, as fine a slice of dusty deadbeat songs as we’ve heard in a while.

Based in Kentucky Doc Feldman is a local veteran of several bands and Sundowning At the Station is his solo debut following the demise of his last band Good Saints. We say solo but he’s assembled a studio crew called the LD50 (go look it up) consisting of James Jackson Toth (AKA Wooden Wand), David Chapman and Jeremiah Floyd and produced a minor masterpiece of reproaches and recriminations. With Feldman at the helm proclaiming like a soiled preacher the band offer a muted support sounding like a wounded Crazy Horse (on Alive For Now) or lost in a sea of fuzz (Battle Hymn), overall there’s a sense of numbness, of howling at the moon, railing against life’s calamities.

Ready opens the album, a banjo riddled riposte to the country rock popularised by Neil Young’s Harvest taking Young’s sound and diving headlong into the ditch as Feldman pleads to be given a lethal dose to end it all. Texas Moan is a novel in miniature as the band conjure up the sound of Little Feat on Sailing Shoes. Alive For Now opens with portentous guitars and drum washes before settling down into a pared down cousin to Neil Young’s Zuma as guitars slow burn and the rhythm section churns away like the muddy Mississippi. On some of the songs the sound is pared back leaving Feldman to stand naked as it were with Let It Go recalling Steve Earle in his rehab days while Cold Tile Floor brims with menace. There are snatches of found sounds scattered throughout the album but they are most effective on the solo dirge that is Only Light where Feldman picks up his guitar and delivers a magnificent mea culpa.
Downbeat and dreary may be the order of the day here but ultimately the delivery is exciting with some shiver worthy moments and as we said earlier a fine addition to the TIAM catalogue.

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