Steve Grozier. Take My Leave EP.

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If you’re familiar with Glasgow’s local music scene then chances are that the name Steve Grozier is not new to you. Since his return to the city last year after a spell abroad he’s been a regular at pub and club gigs while also appearing at various festivals and at prestige venues such as King Tuts and Edinburgh’s Voodoo Rooms. Normally a solo act and described by one reviewer as a player of “drifting, haunting, charming, bluesy folk”  Grozier has opted for a band approach for this four song debut EP and is ably supported here by up and coming Glasgow Americana band Anton & The Colts who drape his songs in a warm Laurel Canyon vibe.

Drink Before Dawn opens the EP, lush strummed guitars driving the beat as Grozier’s effortless vocals evoke carefree times driving through the night with friends and eking it out at the last road stop. With guitarist Roscoe Wilson turning out some fine acoustic lead lines the song is more Gene Clark than the Eagles, a fine melancholia offsetting the freewheeling lifestyle Grozier is recalling. Porcelain Hearts is chunkier, a wee bit of Stray Gators in the syrupy rhythm here, the band on top form actually with the guitar curling excellently around swampy byways as Grozier almost croons a delicate love song couched in mystery.

Take My Leave is raw in comparison to its predecessors, the acoustic guitar big and bold, closely miked, Grozier’s voice velvet in comparison as he revisits streets and a home that knows his name, passing broken down arcades searching for memories. Ringing Of The Bells returns to the carefree strum of the opening song, the band freewheeling in fine style with a neat country rock lope that is ramshackle in the best Big Pink sense.

Overall the EP is a fine introduction to Grozier’s world, a world that benefits from the very fine accoutrements of The Colts particularly on Porcelain Hearts. A recent live session on Pulse Radio saw him play several of the songs solo and he’s more than able to carry them off armed just with his guitar, the band here are the icing on the cake. The good news is that there will be a launch party for the EP at Glasgow’s Hug and Pint on September 1st with The Colts playing with the man, the ticket price including a copy of the EP.  Should be a fine night.

 

Chuck Hawthorne/Les Johnson. House Concert. Glasgow. Wednesday 27/716

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You’ve probably heard of the house concert movement that’s been creeping up over the past few years, you may in fact have attended or hosted such an event. For Blabber’n’Smoke this was our first foray into such an event as we’d heard that Chuck Hawthorne, the Texan ex-marine was appearing at one not a million miles from our headquarters.

The concept is relatively simple. A host connects with an artist, arranges whatever deal needs to be arranged and then opens up their house to a bunch of strangers (and some friends presumably) who have the opportunity to hear and meet the aforesaid artist. Thereafter the details can vary.  Is there a suggested donation as a cover charge? Do you bring your own beer? Where do all the chairs come from?  Fortunately, there’s a wealth of information and advice to be had regarding all of this on various websites and Facebook pages and one such site is managed by Blabber’n’Smoke’s good friend Rob Ellen (it’s here ) and it was Rob who connected Mr. Hawthorne with last night’s host.

First off, it was comforting to see that you don’t need to have a mansion or some such in order to host a house concert. This one was in a top floor Glasgow tenement flat, the front room set up with three rows of assorted chairs and couches at either side. A simple wooden pallet allowed a podium for the artists. While some of the audience were already acquainted by the end of the night we were all on good talking terms, swapping emails etc after a couple of breaks which allowed a fine degree of mingling. I didn’t do a headcount but there were about 25 folk in attendance.

It’s all about the music of course and here the concept really proved its worth. First up was local singer Les Johnson (normally to be seen with his band Les Johnson and Me offering up some croonsome velvet country stylings) who, armed only with his guitar and striking baritone voice sang a set mostly taken from his album 15 Hands. With his easy wit and rapport with the audience (remember, those sitting at the front less than a couple of feet away) this was a delightful experience. Anyone remembering a tipsy relative giving it laldy in the parlour at New Year will recognise the intimacy that was on offer here, fortunately without the attendant embarrassment. Johnson’s dark humour in the song introductions was excellent as he sang what seemed to be a love song to a horse on 15 Hands. Requested to sing a Ronnie Lane song he gave us a finely understated version of The Poacher and there was also a powerful rendition of Dylan’s Senor (Tales of Yankee Power). Best of all however was the “urban country” melodrama of Dear Marvin where Johnson was accompanied on vocals by a member of the audience (Meghan, sorry didn’t get the surname) for what was a fine Glasgow version of George and Tammy.

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With a short break to refresh drinks, dash down three flights for the smokers and queue for the loo it was time for Chuck Hawthorne to come on. By then he’d already swapped at least a handshake with all in attendance and was on first name terms with those in the front row and his set was perhaps the best mixture of song craft, performance and informality that I’ve seen. Hawthorne is formed from the same Texas dirt as Guy Clark and Townes Van Zandt. Tonight he was freewheelin’ with nods to both telling stories about his one encounter with Clark before his fine rendition of LA Freeway while TVZ’s No Deal was quite affecting.  Hawthorne grew up in cowboy country and told his tales of working amidst the piss and shit of bovine herds before eventually signing up for the Marines reckoning that it might be safer and at least it was a steady wage. As the songs unfurled there were tales of his dad’s old tools, his mum’s erratic driving, his chance encounter with Ray Bonneville (who eventually produced his album) and finally a grim recounting of service in Iraq. As with Les Johnson, the frisson of hearing and seeing Hawthorne up close as he sang several songs from his album Silver Line was somewhat shivering. Away from the cover songs Hawthorne proves to be a gifted songwriter. He grabs blue-collar working songs by, well, the collar on The Gospel Hammer and Welding Son Of A Gun while Silver Line flowed wonderfully. Dusty ballads, hard hammering work songs, he works them all but the most poignant moment was on the incredibly moving Post 2 Gate, a song about a kid blown up by an IED in Iraq. Hawthorne was there, billeted in a Saddam Palace in the green zone, the kid familiar to the leathernecks as they drove in and out. Had a pin dropped at the end of this it would have startled all as there was an awesome silence. The balloon was burst as Hawthorne valiantly moved on to a cover of Tom Russell’s Navajo Rug but it was a powerful reminder that he’s lived a life and more.

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Getting back to the house concert concept, after the show both Johnson and Hawthorne were happy to pose for pics, sell CDs and just hang about.  Beers were quaffed and the fat was chewed. A tremendous night.

 

The Mike + Ruthy Band. The Glad Cafe. Glasgow Sunday 24th July 2016

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This was Mike + Ruthy’s second appearance in Glasgow this year, the first being a spirited and well received show at Celtic Connections back in January in the Old Fruitmarket. Tonight was a not to be missed opportunity to see them at closer quarters and they did not disappoint making few , if any, concessions to the intimate setting, a far cry from their appearance at Newcastle’s Summertyne Festival last Friday and their forthcoming shows at The Cambridge Folk Festival. A five-piece band with folk roots they can rock as well; at one point Mike Merenda almost apologised for a song being somewhat loud before going on to say “that’s because it is loud.”

This Glasgow show was one of four gigs squeezed in between the two festival appearances (there’s one to go on Wednesday 27th at The Birnam Arts Centre in Perthshire) and the band were obviously out to have some fun. They treated the audience to a two hour set plus encores, the core being their main show but allowing them an opportunity to drag out some old songs and to road test a couple of new ones. There was no horn section tonight (unless you count Merenda’s occasional harmonica) but  the infectious, joyous and robust playing of the rhythm section (Jacob Silver, bass and Konrad Meissner, drums) along with Rob Stein, superlative on pedal steel, hummed and roared with the front pair (playing guitar, fiddle, banjo and banjo-uke) sparring  and bantering and delivering some deadly songs.

They slipped into the set with the beguiling simplicity of Simple & Sober with Ruth Ungar in fine voice on a song that is rooted in American folk music as popularised by Pete Seeger. With some fine three part harmonies wafting the song along and a sweet liquid pedal steel solo this was a hypnotic opening but then they pumped up the volume for the rousing folk rock strains of Bright As You Can, Ungar transformed into a powerful belter while the band just rocked out.  Almost as if they were setting out their stall they then launched into a magnificently slow lumbering rendition of sixties’ peacenik Len Chandler’s civil rights song, I’m Going To Get My Baby out of Jail before wafting into their rendition of an unfinished Woody Guthrie song, My New York City.  With these four songs they had established their credentials, rooted in protest era folk of the fifties and sixties and fuelled with the bite of later folk rock acts, a true embodiment of the spirit that inhabits the Catskills and Woodstock to this day.

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While Ruth Ungar was to the front for the opening songs Mike Merenda stood up for the excellent Word On The Street as Ungar skirled away on fiddle with Stein skirting around her bowing. Thereafter we were treated to a cornucopia of delights, delightful folky numbers such as Freckled Ocean and the ominous Cigarette, their fine and full bodied tribute to The Band on The Ghost Of Richard Manuel. The pulsating Golden Eye,  a song that Ungar described back in January as “country disco” allowed the band to riff magnificently while there was some soulful wailing on the powerful Rock On Little Jane and  Merenda’s banjo had a fine outing on The Farmer which was Appalachian in its rippling country flavours and hi lonesome harmonies.  There were some new songs, one, from Ruth called Old Days another nod to Greenwich Village times and they closed the set with an invitation to the audience to sing along on the rousing On My Way Home, the pair duelling on their respective strings and the band all offered a short solo that was somewhat invigorating. Time up but space for an encore and here they really called in the audience for an affecting rendition of The Water Is Wide, the audience reciprocating in fine voice. Thereafter there was a rip snorting Cajun like instrumental, again with solos from all band members that just about raised the roof. A fantastic show from a very versatile band, loud, soft, folk, blues, country? All of these and more. They should slay Cambridge.

 

Sturgill Simpson/ Daniel Meade & The Flying Mules. O2ABC Glasgow. Wednesday 13th June

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I reckon this is Sturgill Simpson‘s fifth appearance in Glasgow in less than three years. In that time he’s grown from appearing in pubs and clubs (to small but very appreciative audiences) to become a Grammy nominated, Billboard chart topping phenomenon. Seen as the salvation of real country music (seeing off those boozy ‘Bros) with his albums High Top Mountain and Metamodern Sounds in Modern Country Music there was no doubting his credentials and his sheer talent. The philosophical bent that informed some of Metamodern Sounds shook some traditionalists but didn’t prevent the album from ranking high in the best of lists in 2014. Earlier this year Simpson unveiled A Sailor’s Guide To Earth, an adventurous epic which saw him travel further from his basic update on outlaw country, a concept album of sorts, inspired by the birth of his son, it saw Simpson add horns, strings and electronics as he pulled in soul and funk influences. A bold move for his first major label release the album has been almost universally lauded for its vision and for Simpson’s refusal to be cast in any one bag.

It was an expectant crowd therefore who turned up to see the man tonight. Reports from shows in Newcastle and Manchester on previous nights indicated that Simpson and his seven man band (guitar/pedal steel, bass, drums, keyboards and three horn players) were playing the album in full and so it was. There was some softening up beforehand as he ran through past favourites that were rearranged to take account of the horns and keys; forty minutes or so and had he left at the end of these there would have been no complaints. The opening lines of Sitting here Without You hummed like railroad tracks with a train approaching before the band battered into honky tonk heaven, the horns given  space halfway in before the band got back on the tracks. Water In The Well was an early example of Simpson’s aching way with a ballad before they launched into an almighty delivery of Long White Line which started with a soulful organ groove before Laur Joamets’ wicked guitar sparked up, eventually sparring with the horns. Chugging and grooving, the song reached its logical end but the band segued expertly into an audacious rendition of When The Levee Breaks discarding any Memphis Minnie notions as they honed in on the Led Zeppelin cover, Jaumets’ casually riffing off on Jimmy Page, pretty astonishing. There was another nod to an older song on I Never Go Round Mirrors, this time with whiffs of The Tennessee Waltz woven in. Railroad of Sin and Living The Dream were powerful reminders of Simpson’s ability to deliver hi octane country rock along with his oft-mentioned recall of Waylon Jennings while tonight’s delivery of The Promise was infused with a soulful feel that brought to mind Otis Redding.

P1050394 copyThe band remained on stage and Simpson gave a short preamble to the leviathan that is A Sailor’s Guide To Earth before it rumbled into view with a thundercloud cacophony of guitar and keyboard before settling into the melody of Welcome To Earth (Pollywog). Thereafter the songs appeared in sequence, billowing and blasting with tsunamis of sound from the horns, unfortunately Simpson’s words of sage advice at times swallowed up by the clamour.  Never mind, the overall effect was impressive. The brass burbled over some superb slide guitar on the pulsating Keep It Between The Lines, Bobby Emmet on keyboards coming on like Garth Hudson at times. There was a scintillating moment midway through In Bloom when pedal steel glided into a sharp horn break and the thunderous bass guitar intro (from Chuck Bartell) to Brace for Impact (Live a Little) led the band into an almighty wallow through funky Little Feat territory, guitar sinuous and sinister as the rhythm section locked into the groove. This was awesome.

P1050407 copyThere was a brief respite from this juggernaut of sound on the soulful bliss of All Around You before it grew into a wall of sound with the horns blasting away and the soul train continued with the deeply moving Oh, Sarah, Simpson approaching the romantic heights of The Promise with his vocals. The ship was berthing now as Simpson mentioned his local bagpipe player, Dougie Wilkinson before Call To Arms hove into view, a perfect closer to the night as the band ripped into it with a fury. Away from ship and sea metaphors the band played this like they were in a roadhouse on fire, the last of the honky tonks. As they blazed away Simpson grew more animated throwing shapes and pacing around the players, ducking into the wings allowing soloists to shine before winding it all up with a ferocious blast of joyous noise before an abrupt end and a sharp exit from the stage. And that was it. The crowd seemed momentarily stunned before erupting into applause. There was no encore but it would be difficult to see any way that they could have topped that.

P1050371 copySimpson’s Glasgow buddies, Daniel Meade & The Flying Mules were the support tonight, evidence of the man’s affinity with this dear green place (indeed a fanciful article in a local newspaper had him musing on moving over here from Nashville, if only). Playing to a home crowd The Mules were on top form playing a selection from their new album, Let Me Off At The Bottom along with several favourites from Mr. Meade’s back catalogue. Always a good bet for some infectious rock’n’roll their recent bout of touring sees them razor sharp in their delivery and there was even some dancing going on as they tore into Please Louise. There’s a Headstone Where Her Heart Used To Be, As Good As Bad Can Be and Back To Hell were real crowd pleasers while the plaintive lament of He Should have Been Mine showed that they can be tear jerking as well as barnstorming.

DH Lawrence and The Vaudeville Skiffle Show/ Ciaran McGhee. Nice n Sleazy. Glasgow. 6/7/16

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Crikey. you go along to a mid week show in a cellar bar on a rainy night expecting to see the same old stalwarts in the fair to middling sized crowd that has turned up. Not tonight however as the place was packed. Had Nottingham’s prized purveyors of skiffle, folk and old time country started trending since your correspondent left the house? Snatched pictures of Al Rate and Kate Moss appeared on the Huffington Post or Barak Obama revealed they’re on his Spotify playlist? No. Truth is a couple of The Vaudeville Skiffle Show players moonlight as physiotherapists when they’re not whipping up a storm onstage and there just happened to be a worldwide physiotherapy conference going on in Glasgow this very week. Canny folk that they are the band slipped the word out with the result that this was perhaps the most cosmopolitan crowd Blabber’n’Smoke had ever hung out with. Australians to the left, Americans to the right and that was the English speakers. Indeed, there was a veritable Babel of chatter in between songs.

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Now I don’t know how many of the audience were fans of the band before the show, perhaps just keen to investigate the ergonomics of playing a washboard or banjo, but I’d bet that by the end each and all were converts after a storming set. Skiffle, jugband and old time country are all kind of rabble rousing in their own way and the band stoked the crowd throughout ending up with a fair amount of them on stage scrubbing away at a variety of washboards and kitchen implements and wheezing into kazoos and whatnot for the final song, Mama Don’t Allow No Skiffle ‘Round Here. Indeed as one entered a kazoo was thrust into your palm with instructions to wait for the invitation to play.

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It wasn’t all party music. On their album, Sons & Lovers, DH Lawrence and The Vaudeville Skiffle Show delivered some skilful and moving songs that draw from English and American folk traditions with several delivered tonight along with some choice covers. You Saw Me Fall was given a cool viperish vamp, Sons and Lovers (adopted from DH Lawrence’s novel, “he was a bit of an arse,” they said) portrayed their roots while their latest single, the somewhat awesome Black Rain did have the audience transfixed with its sinister delivery. However it was the good time element that had the crowd baying, a mass kazoo participation on Tom Waits’ Chocolate Jesus was great fun while keeping with the Jesus theme their rendition of Hayes Carll’s She Left Me For Jesus (with the band aping a gospel tent confessional) was a definite hit. The band with an ever revolving frontsman and with much swapping of instruments entertaining throughout the night.

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Support tonight was Ciaran McGhee from Edinburgh, a chap you can catch at the likes of The Royal Oak. McGhee is in thrall to traditional Scots folk music and has a voice that can thunder out the throatiest ballad as evidenced on his powerful rendition of the Jacobean Macpherson’s Rant, at times reminiscent of Dick Gaughan in his prime. A songwriter himself McGhee sang several of his own songs which show promise including Hypocrite and Sing me A Love Song, the latter showing he is not all rant and rave. Perhaps to celebrate a night out in Glasgow he offered his take on Cod Liver Oil and The Orange Juice, a song popularised by the late Hamish Imlach. Steeped as it is in Glaswegian patois he obligingly translated the words into Standard English for the benefit of our visitors.

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Annie Keating. Trick Star

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Despite being championed by Bob Harris Annie Keating still seems to be somewhat under the radar in the big old world of Americana. Undeterred she keeps plugging away with Trick Star her seventh album and one that ensures that those in the know including The Telegraph’s Martin Chilton and the Glasgow Americana festival, will continue to sing her praises.

Keating says of Trick Star that it’s about being raised up, torn down and finding the way back home. There’s certainly a lot of memories contained here, the title song is about her first bicycle (something like a BMX) and offers her the one opportunity on the album to rock out with snarly slide guitar over a solid organ groove and a fine Dylan subterranean blues rap in the middle. The remainder of the album however is classic Keating, her voice often tender, almost childlike in its vulnerability at times, the songs clusters of fully realised images and emotions. While there’s a Donovan like innocent frivolity on the trombone borne Creatures, Keating wishing for the freedom and peace of mind  she imagines the animal kingdom to enjoy, and a fine pop rock swirl on Time To Help Me Forget it’s on the more restrained and contemplative numbers where she truly shines.

In The Valley is a lilting number with sweet pedal steel and viola and a bittersweet lyric as Keating describes an Elysian field, a place to lay her head. Slow Waltz aches, recalling Patti Page’s Tennessee Waltz as it slowly wends its way, Keating recalling a summer night at a carnival many years ago with the opening lines again allude to death as she sings, “I’m over my head, I’m trying not to care, I’m six feet under the overpass where we first met”.  Regret and forgiveness is writ throughout the very tender Orchard and the winsome country stylings of Come and Go while Fool For You is a halting and intimate song of self recrimination.

Keating’s regular posse of musicians ((Steve Mayone, Jason Mercer, Chris Tarrow, Yuval Lion and Trina Hamlin) are credited by her as having been fully involved in the evolution and arrangement of the songs and throughout they are in fine form. They shine however on Lucky, a song that recalls the simple folkiness of John Prine in its lyrics as the band combine rippling acoustic strings with a fine curdled electric guitar.

According to Keating the seed of the album was sown at a concert at London’s Barbican Theatre when she heard the Brooklyn Youth Chorus performing Black Mountain Songs, a celebration of the North Carolina institute which in the 1930’s forged a blueprint for American alternative culture. Moved by the performance Keating wrote and has teamed up with the Chorus for the closing song here, Phoenix.  A celebration of the power of music and words, the rebirth of hope, an anthem of optimism it’s an addendum to the main body of the album but it’s also an anchor, ensuring that despite loss and hurt there’s always hope.

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Howe Gelb. Erika Wennerstrom. Stereo, Glasgow. Sunday 19th June

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Ever the maverick, Howe Gelb returned to Glasgow to perform what was billed as a solo piano show, reports of the demise of his long-standing moveable feast of a band, Giant Sand trailing behind him. Gelb’s no stranger to performing solo and has been known in the past to drop his regular show if there’s a piano sharing the stage with him while scattered within his dauntingly large back catalogue are four albums of piano music (Lull Some Piano, Ogle Some Piano, Spun Some Piano and Snarl Some Piano should you wish to pursue them).  In almost any other case these discs would stand out as oddities or vanity projects, in the weird happenstance world of Gelb they are simply another outlet for his restless quest in search of another note, another way to capture the sounds around him, molecules of music I believe he once described them.

Anyhow, as Howe aficionados will know, the night was up for grabs, no one sure what to expect. This has caused frustration in the past, audiences puzzled by his somewhat gnomic utterances, his lack of a set list and detours which have seen him singing along to Kylie Minogue records. Tonight the first impression on entering the venue was somewhat surprising, the cellar venue, grungy to say the least and usually home to hot and sweaty shows with plastic beer glasses spilled due to jostles had seating set out with the front rows set out cabaret style, tables with candles lit. Sure enough there was a solitary upright piano up there, stage left, a chair also which led to the initial pantomime acted out by Gelb as he appeared on stage, sat down and unimpressed left the stage to look for another perch. He soon reappeared with another chair, a very similar chair in fact and spent some time clowning around trying to set up his seating. One had the feeling that at this point “serious rock fans” would be muttering and complaining but tonight it seemed that the audience were attuned to the man and his antics drew serious laughter, a phenomenon that continued through the night as Gelb turned in a show that recalled memories of Victor Borge, the Danish keyboard prodigy who turned classical music into a comedy routine.

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Gelb’s target tonight was not the Minute Waltz but what we can consider The Great American Songbook and in particular those which are considered piano based jazz standards. Announcing that the night was to be devoted to his next recording, Future Standards, his foray into that weird world where serious jazz musicians rub shoulders with cocktail classics he proceeded to play an immensely impressive Cry Me A River. His croon was more than a match for Julie London’s torch singing, his playing displaying the occasional nod to the angular twists and dissonant chords of Thelonious Monk. Like Borge, Gelb was into explaining the music saying that almost any song can be turned into a cocktail standard before performing his own song Shiver with occasional ragtime and bop keyboard interludes. Well into his stride he then performed several songs from the forthcoming album, some sounding like Jack Kerouac performing with Steve Allen, others more cocktail jazz with Gelb asking the barmaid at the back if she knew how to mix a Martini. On Terribly So he stopped, explained that the song really needed a bass and drum rhythm before hauling out his Smartphone, dialling it to the studio recording therein and proceeded to duet with the phone held to the mic as he sang along and tinkled some ivory. Classic Gelb here.

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Aside from Victor Borge Gelb also summoned up the ghost of Chico Marx with his keyboard mannerisms but it was Chico’s brother Harpo who loomed large as Gelb stood up and removed the piano’s lid and front exposing the strings. Harpo famously wrecked a piano in the movie A Day At The Races, eventually pulling the strings from the piano carcass and using it as a harp. Gelb didn’t go so far as that but his plucking of the strings added to the occasional dissonance of his playing, his version of John Cage’s prepared piano.

He started with a cover and ended the set with another. This time Leonard Cohen’s A Thousand Kisses Deep with his very fine croon a suitable match for Cohen’s voice and a fine ending to a show that, aside from the  comedy and verbal musings, allowed Gelb’s undisputed talent to shine. Show almost over Gelb did strap on his guitar for a fine rendition of Paradise Here Abouts (from the Sno Angel Like You album) before finishing with the wonderful Wind Blown Waltz, an opportunity to show that he can be as idiosyncratic on guitar as on piano but again a reminder that he is a supremely gifted songwriter.

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Erika Wennerstrom, singer with Cincinatti band The Heartless Bastards, opened the show. A diminutive figure she has a big voice and she played several songs from her band including Marathon. Here she didn’t need the band accompaniment, her guitar shimmering and trebly as she intoned the lyrics. She struggled with the sound at times, her guitar almost booming and threatening to feedback but as she said to the audience this was a first time solo outing and she was still finding her feet. I Could Be So Happy was a fine performance, her voice recalling the primal tones of Patti Smith.

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There’s time to catch more Gelb at the piano here.

 

Hannah Aldridge/ Lilly Hiatt

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Had to make some space to mention that Lilly Hiatt and Hannah Aldridge are swinging through Scotland this week with appearances in Edinburgh, Glasgow and Aberdeen.  Over the past 10 days they’ve been trekking around England to rave reviews, Three Chords and The Truth saying that the pair of them “play music of the soul in a way that captivates a tuned-in audience leaving a trail of awe, satisfaction and belief that straight from the gut music is full of intense appeal”. That straight from the gut comment apparently comes from Aldridge’s description of her music and anyone who has heard her album, Razor Wire will know that she can deliver tough and bluesy rock songs as well as laid back acoustic numbers.

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Aldridge is the daughter of famed country writer Walt Aldridge and her companion on this tour is another scion of a notable musician, in this case John Hiatt. This tour is Lilly Hiatt’s first time over here and she has a new album which was released at the beginning of this month. Like Aldridge Hiatt is no stranger to rock music although in her case on Royal Blue she tends more towards the indie side of things, one description of the album saying it’s  ” a glorious tumble of influences – surf rock, Smiths vibes, Laurel Canyon twang and jangle, Sonic Youth flatline and Britpop flourishes”. A fair enough description although it doesn’t really tell you what the album sounds like. It doesn’t mention for example the excellent pedal steel on Jesus Would’ve Let Me Pick The Restaurant with its sly references to Lynyrd Skynyrd. From the low rumble of the opening song Far Away to the closing title song Hiatt does ramble across various genres but her fine voice and sharp writing steers her her firmly along American highways and byways. Off Track’s guitars buzz like a swarm of angry wasps, Too Bad veers towards Southern Gothic and Heart Attack is wrapped up in a new wave keyboard bubble.

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The Scottish shows are as follows. Check the links for tickets.

June 21 in Edinburgh  at The Voodoo Rooms

June 22 in Aberdeen  at The Blue Lamp

June 23 in Glasgow  at Woodend Bowling & Lawn Tennis Club

 

 

 

 

 

 

California Feetwarmers. Silver Seas.

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It was the Bonzo Dog Band who, back in the sixties, declared, “Jazz, delicious hot, disgusting cold” on their deliriously loopy trad jazz instrumental of the same name. Supreme satirists as they were they had nailed it on the head as they took the mickey out of bands such as The New Vaudeville Band and The Temperance Seven both of whom had hit the charts but were regarded as novelty acts. We mention this as the California Feetwarmers are probably the best opportunity you’ll ever get these days to hear the sort of music that the Bonzos’ were championing in their early days, a vaudevillian extravaganza that summons up images of Keystone cops, spats, flappers and gangsters, speakeasies and ragtime, black and white Hollywood, Hawaiian luaus or a Dixieland New Orleans soundtrack waiting for a Woody Allen movie.

A seven piece band who are now based in LA The Feetwarmers boast sousaphone, trumpet, clarinet and trombone over a guitar, banjo and drums backbone creating a vibrant and exhilarating  rollercoaster ride of a listen. A syncopated time capsule of sorts Silver Seas features a mix of originals and tunes from the likes of the New Orleans Rhythm Kings (from 1925) and Scott Joplin (1903) with a fine sense of variety. The majority of the numbers are supremely skittish romps but there are some stately moments (as on Dixie Waltz) while there’s a hint of Western swing on Betty Brown, one of the few songs with vocals the other being the sublime The Breeze That Brought Me Home, wonderfully gilded with steel guitar from guest Andy Bean. Wooden Nickel allows the banjo and guitar some space away from the horns on a tune that is more mountain stream than bordello.  Overall the band’s playing is simply mesmerising, their sense of dynamics, the parps and oompahs perfectly aligned with the jazzy guitar, banjo burps and rattletrap percussion. It’s hard not to think of cinematic references while listening to this. UK listeners will have a trove of memories, gleaned from TV and movies ranging from cartoons to serious directors such as Sergio Leone (and one is reminded of his Once Upon A Time In America), that these tunes could have easily sprung from.

So the album’s a winner but apparently these guys are fabulous live with Tom Jones, the Welsh Elvis apparently falling under their spell recently when he chanced upon them. Good news is they’re currently touring the UK  and will have advance copies of the album for sale at the gigs. All dates here including a show at Glasgow’s CCA this Sunday

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Here’s some video from their Celtic Connections appearance in 2015.

 

 

David Starr. Love and Sabotage.

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The unassuming, almost professorial, chap staring at you from the cover of this album doesn’t give a hint of the sparkling old school country tinged melodic rock he’s packaged within the cardboard. Starr, from Colorado, has a hefty pedigree under his belt with five previous albums and a lengthy list of acts he’s supported or played with, several of whom turn up here including Richie Furay, John Oates and Steve Cropper. The album ranges from classic guitar driven freeway friendly songs to fiddle and mandolin rich ballads, suffice to say if the likes of Poco, Steve Stills, JD Souther, Andrew Gold and even Fleetwood Mac (circa Rumours) floats your boat then you should lend your ears to the 15 songs on offer here.

The title song opens the proceedings, a radio friendly riff of a song sparked with soaring guitar breaks and some snarly lap steel that keeps it grounded, there’s a muscular heft in the rhythm section and keyboards. It’s classic FM fodder, the Eagles and even Boston recalled as Starr sings with confidence. Secrets, a co-write with John Oates (who provides harmonies), is another song that, had it been released back in the days, could now be a staple of retro radio. It’s supremely melodic in the Fleetwood Mac manner with a winning guitar break and an excellent middle eight featuring some fabulous harmonies. Starr turns in several other songs in a similar vein, the aching Called It Love, a Jackson Browne like drama with Steve Cropper adding some sinuous guitar lines and Our Mistakes which glistens with some Byrds like guitar flourishes.

The album is finely balanced with a brace of introspective numbers and some rootsy ramblings. Long Ride Home is a cosmic cowboy lament, an intricate lace of slide and electric guitar with mandolin and accordion it’s a valedictory to life on the road and beautifully delivered. What Do You Recall is a stripped down piece, piano and fiddle and voice only as Starr peers into a memory of a love, a song that is painfully wonderful, like a love song to a dementia sufferer if that’s not supposing too much. Memory also features on the slinky and slick night-time blues of Afraid as Starr revisits his past while The Beautiful Music Of You (featuring Furay on harmonies again) is a simple love song with a hint of sadness provided by mournful viola.

The rootsiness shines through on the Dobro and accordion driven Acadian rhythms of You Will Come To Know and the jaunty harmonica led skip of No Time Like The Present. However the crowning glory here is Starr’s rendition of Tumbleweed, a song written by Canadian Tia McGraff. With a grumbling and growling guitar underpinning some sweet mandolin and fiddle playing along with some very sweet harmonies (courtesy of Tania Hancheroff) Starr here recalls the luminous sound of Emmylou Harris on Wrecking Ball.

Love and Sabotage is an excellent album and the good news is that Starr is currently touring the UK although he’s performing solo. However, on the strength of this he seems well worth seeing. He appears in Glasgow as part of the Southside Fringe on Thursday his other dates are here.

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