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Where There’s Smoke, there’s Smoke Fairies . . .

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Where There’s Smoke, there’s Smoke Fairies . . .

by M. Alberto Rivera

From Sussex, England, emerge the Smoke Fairies, a musical duo, who deliver their own blend of folky-blues with some of the most arrestingly beautiful, and startling, haunted vocals heard in recent memory.

smoke Fairies_MG_1185_small
Katherine Blamire and Jessica Davies have known each other since they were eleven, started playing and writing music together when they were twelve, and together have embarked on this musical odessey which so far has produced several critically acclaimed releases, starting with2010’s “Through Low Light and Trees.”

The music would be easily categorized as British folk, but that’s too easy. On “Summer Fades” there’s distance and regret in the voices as they sing , “Can You hold me like you held someone/You should never have let go?”  No amount of time will ever set this right, and they understand the loss completely.

“Morning Blues” approached and attacked differently could be something we’ve already heard a million times before. From Ma Rainey, to Zeppelin’s overloaded reinterpretations and everything in between. But here’s it’s a lullaby. Tender and poignant, tired and hopeful, it’s sung in a whisper and meant for an audience of one.

“Strange Moon Rising” and “Hotel Room” are the songs that most resemble the more commercial strains of indie rock people are fond of fussing over these days.

Blamire and Davies spent time living in New Orleans, and then later in Vancouver. Both cite their time abroad as formative.  Says Katherine. “But a lot of our songs came from that time. You have to let the mayhem out somehow.”

Jack White of The White Stripes, Raconteurs, and Dead Weather took notice of  one of their self-released singles and offered to produce a track for his Third Man label at his Nashville studio. Recorded with Jack Lawrence on bass, Smoke-Fairies_Promo-Cover_web White on drums, and then on the flipside providing the guitar solo on ‘River Song’, ‘Gastown’/ ‘River Song’ was released in December 2009.

One of the firs things you’ll notice is the tension the Blamire and Davies quietly build with their austere instrumentation, and the tapestry the weave around it with their voices.

The tension isn’t built on anger or overblown emotion but is more carefully spun like a spiders web, fragile, and impossibly strong at the same time.  Strings glisten as if shaking so much morning dew from from leaves with a slight rustle. This understanding that passes between the two of them, unspoken, and effortless, is what the rest of us are left to make sense of.  It’s this internal communication with a gesture, or a glance that fills the quiet spaces in the songs with tension. People can’t bear quiet. It makes us feel as though there’s something wrong. But here, in the soft, lightly tread moments of the Smoke Fairies finest musical moments, is a generous awareness, each of the other, in ways only two performers who’ve played countless shows together can make sense of.

2012 saw the band release Blood Speaks, their second full length release.  It finds them melancholy and moody once again, but with a more developed production. “Let me Know” is a straight ahead mid-tempo indie rock number, where they blend their voices, but feels safe for radio right off the bat. “My destruction is mine to own” one of them sings cool and off handedly, owning their misfortune.  Most of the songs on the album are accompanied by a band and seem more readily accessible.  The band is a cohesive unit, and Blamire and Davies’ have stepped away from naturally odd and idiosyncratic arrangements which peppered their earlier works.

These songs ruminate on loss of various stripes, “Something dies when you fall in love/ And something lives when you’ve had enough of driving over the ice,” they sing on “Take Me Down When You Go.”

Everything is brighter, fuller, louder, but the sunlight still as cold and distant as the last love gone wrong.  it’s a safe bet the future doesn’t hold any “Walking on Sunshine”  variety pop from these two any time soon. No Jessica Davies and Katherine Blamire seem much more content to allow their art to speak for them and listeners will simply have to make of it what they will. Witchy and beguiling, quietly quirky, and keenly insightful, Smoke Fairies relay their stories and with a subdued approach, leaving us to try and understand it all.

 

www.smokefairies.com


Dead Serios Tribute CD Release Party

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Dead Serios Tribute CD Release Party

THE WAIT IS OVER: The (very) long-awaited DEAD SERIOS, tribute album finally is finished! Entitled, “They’re Not Joking,” the ten-song album will be released officially at our May 24th Boondocks concert in Melbourne, FL.

Ded CVRTRACK LISTING:
01. “Butterbean Queen” -Skurvy the Clown
02. “People Need Ozzy” – Fretless Rock
03. “Harbor City” – Ty Oglesby (Featuring Paul Chapman of UFO)
04. “Pizza Face” – Nightfall
05. “Rose Mary’s Baby Was Framed” – Joey Image (of the Misfits)
06. “Bad Luck” – The Glitter Döllz
07. “Dead Under the Tree” – lazaras
08. “Ranks of the Unemployed” – Digisex Gimp
09. “Buster’s Got a Booger” – Dead Serios
10. Special Surprise Track

 

ALL PROCEEDS of the CD and show to benefit Genesis House

Ded Promo

They’re Not Joking: A Tribute To Dead Serios

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They’re Not Joking: A Tribute To Dead Serios

Various Artists

Ghoul Tone records, 2015

Reviewed by Bart Savagewood

Maybe you’re not from here. So your lack of understanding is understandable. Dead Serios are currently back Ded CVRtogether after a many year hiatus, and better than ever. So what could be more fitting for the 30 year anniversary for heavy metal’s clown princes of thrash than a tribute from many of the artists they directly had a hand in inspiring? That’s exactly what this is and better than most anyone could have predicted or hoped for. This collection of ten songs rocks, rattles and oozes into places you’d never expect Dead Serios songs to go, not of their own accord exactly. This speaks volumes to how far-reaching the influence of this little band from the Harbor City is.

Skurvy the Clown, in many ways Dead Serios’ bastard heirs to lowbrow humor, kick off the disc with the best known, most radio played of all DS tunes, “Butterbean Queen.” There’s some Beastie Boys style three-men-on-the mic rapping and some great beat-boxing (is it even called that anymore?) by Brendon Keith to give it a spin. The lead is wonderfully chaotic and over the top before returning to more lyrical wonderment of the once teenaged pop doll, Tiffany.

“Pizza Face” is given the total power ballad treatment by Nightfall, and you know, I’m favoring it. If you want a slow song to make out to on a crowded gym floor at a middle school dance like it’s 1987, this version will do ya. Bring your own time machine.

Katty Shack take us to the islands with ska (punk) and reggae-ish treatment of “No Pipe for Potato Head.” Before DS found confidence in their sense of humor they penned the occasional, more serious minded number. Such is “Harbor City,” punched up here by Ty Oglesby with the help of UFO’s Paul Chapman on lead guitar.

Glitter Dollz head into the garage with their oily, tuff gurl reading of “Bad Luck.” It’s a slippery, rough and tumble rocker. “People Need Ozzy” gets the most severe redressing by Fretless Rock, tearing up an instrumental version like a demented string quartet. Lazaras sinks their rotten teeth into the holiday classic, “Dead Under the Tree.” Dead Serios themselves even tracked the long unrecorded, live staple, “Buster’s Got a Booger,” finally giving the number it’s due. Joey Image of The Misfits fame makes an appearance and is great. So is DigiSex Gimp.

One of the great things on this disc is wildly and widely varied the interpretations are. And that’s what a great tribute disc ought to have. Re-imaginings and inversions of songs so they’re new all over again.

In terms of impact and influence, you’d be hard pressed to find a bigger thumbprint on the Space Coast’s sound-scape. You could see DS headline at a club, see them open up for touring MTV acts. Talk to them afterward, and they were accessible. You could ask them how something was done, and for the most part, they’d tell you and they would help you as best they could. If there’s an original band you saw live ’round this way in the late 80’s or 90’s, and they were playing and writing their own songs, booking DIY tours further away than Jacksonville, and absolutely playing for keeps every time they went on stage, then they were influenced in some way by Dead Serious, and that’s no joke.

All proceeds of this disc go to benefit the Genesis House.

www.genesishouse-shelter.org/

www.ghoultone.com/

www.facebook.com/deadserios

A Heavy Heaven for Robby

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A Heavy Heaven for Robby

Ameriglow

Independent Release, 2015

“I just miss my best friend” sings Jacob Darden on “Dreams pt 1.” Darden sounds like he just woke up or as if he’s been awake for 36 straight hours, one or the other, but a more disheveled vocal you couldn’t get from Neal Young. AmeriglowAnd speaking of Mr. Young, “running out of drugs (which is worse)” could be a CSNY jam which they never had the good fortune of capturing properly in the studio.

On A Heavy Heaven for Robby there’s psychedelia, meshed with folk, rock and shades of shoegaze trippy-ness in these songs that fall apart and come together seemingly at will and whim.

There’s a moody ebb and flow to the album listened to from start to finish. From the discordant strains of “the chaos is strong” which ends suddenly, and surprisingly flows into the bright and brief pop of “the numbers are random,” back into the recovery room reflections of “foundations of a wish.”

Constructed much like a novel, the narrator is now wide awake when he sings us through, “your postcard wasn’t funny.” The backing is a tired seaside boardwalk band distracted and no longer amused by these songs in their repertoire.

This is a cathartic journey Darden’s taking us on. As he excises difficult emotions along with ordinary memories which will later prove to be pivotal moments. “violent clouds” seem to daubed with sugar here, as an uptempo beat buoys the song along. But there’s a great deal of anger of a personal nature in these songs. The anger is frustrated, volatile and stunted. Unwilling to let go completely.

If Syd Barret had been lucky enough to be locked in a broom closet with an acoustic guitar and the first Stone Roses album, it’d come out like this.

https://www.facebook.com/Ameriglow

Lazy J And the Dirty Shuffle Play the Blues for You

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Lazy J And the Dirty Shuffle

Independent Release, 2015

There’s four songs here, but when it gets to the end, you’ll wish there was more. These four numbers are substantial Lazy Jand fleshy. The lead track, “’Til The Devil Knows I’m Dead,” comes on strong, like a brawler and then with the agility of speed skater, slips in and out, with an unexpected gracefulness.

There’s even hints of reggae and ska here with the way these three allow space to work in their favor. Remember kids, it’s an insecure person who doesn’t know when to be quiet.

“Double Down Boogie,” is to remind you this is a Texas blues band after all, and it’s the sort of number that’d be perfect for the next Sons of Anarchy knock off show someone is currently scheming.

“Let’s Let Love” features a wonderful guitar part. There’s an Allman Brothers/Dickey Betts-ish melodic lead which is tasty and soars effortlessly. If there was ever a song perfect for radio, it’s this one.

The field of blues-rock bands can be a crowded, middling and really milquetoast in nature. Lazy J and the Dirty Shuffle pull far ahead of the largely undistinguished pack with exceptional songwriting and solid playing. They’ve probably played more shows than you thought were humanly possible. And it shows with the confidence expressed.

www.facebook.com/Lazy-J-The-Dirty-Shuffle

No Fraud Come Back From the 80’s to kick Your ASS

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Revolt! – 1984 Demos

No Fraud

Six Weeks Records, 2015

“We play both types of music; punk and hardcore.”

One of my favorite lines ever uttered on stage came from the mouth of lead vocalist, Dan Destructo. And no No fraud CVR cvrstatement about No Fraud could be more true.

These songs were originally tracked as demos, so the quality is pretty thin. But this is what original hardcore was about. And No Frauds version of this was pure unfiltered attitude distilled through Florida’s mind numbing humidity, small town condescensions, and youthful frustration.

Punk was really too slow for these guys by the time they got around to grinding their axes. Everything needed to be rougher. Faster. Edgier. Thus punk morphed into hardcore.

The songs are all short, sturdy, sucker punches, meant to leave the listener uncertain and off balance.

“Revolt” is demanding as it requires the band keep the song in third gear when really, they want to let loose and blow the thing to pieces. “Another Part of the Machinery” shows No Fraud tenuously eyeballing expanding their musical horizons while still being true to their hardcore roots. There’s a tempo shift, the musicians stretch out more and it kills.

I’m partial to side two. It’s faster, dirtier, more unhinged. Everything feels like it’s about to come apart at the seams and witnessing something move at this speed is daunting. Swerving unsteadily with the screed on pop music, “Fuck Your Shit,” the band never eases up. The faux country send up of “Venice Hillbillies” can be well understood by anyone who dared be strange or different in a small town.

If this is as close as you ever come to catching No Fraud live, it’s a brilliant portrayal. This band in full flight is more a force of nature than art.

No Fraud are hardcore legends who stuck to their ideals, and did things one way. Theirs.

If you’re just now getting hip, relax. You bought the record. Play it till the grooves wear out. Then get another one.

www.sixweeksrecords.com

www.facebook.com/pages/NO-FRAUD

Ice Cream Social at The Church of Logic, Sin and Love

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Ice Cream Social at The Church of Logic, Sin & Love

by M. Alberto Rivera

My expectations of artists and their art is high and perhaps rightfully so. Much higher than say a plumber, or a mechanic. Because I expect a really good mechanic or plumber, to be more or less interchangeable with another of The_Men_Polydorhis shared trade. Unlike entertainers, be they writers, painters, musicians, whatever; an artists work is so subjective.

Brilliance is similarly subjective. I recently found some songs on YouTube that have fallen out of favor with commercial radio and are so deeply buried in my long put away CD collection, I couldn’t tell you where exactly they might be hiding. I figured if I listened to them on YouTube, it would be enough and I wouldn’t drive myself nuts tracking down a song to get it out of my head. One of these was by a band called “The Men.”

The Men released a brilliant song, “The Church of Logic, Sin and Love” in 1992 and it was a minor radio hit. I used to hear it late at night while driving home from whatever disposable job I was toiling at. I also heard it semi regularly a few years later on the radio while stationed in Guam, where forgotten music goes on to have a strange afterlife. But the song resonated with me for a myriad of reasons. It was riding on the crest of Alternative bands now vying for air time on the commercial radio. It describes well a time and place in my life. I was old enough to serve in the military, but too young to drink legally. So where do you hang out when you’re no longer a boy and not quite a man, according to the government?

I was stationed in Ventura County, California, and I used to love cruising music stores on Melrose in Los Angeles. Because I could walk in and for $10 buy 10-15 cd’s of bands I’d only read about in hand-written ‘zines by people who spoke English as a third language.

On one trip into LA, the girl who accompanied me, a top 40 sort of girl, was not as eager as me to explore what was on these new CD’s as we made our way home. She kept scanning through the tracks of these European Samplers looking for something that resembled Phil Collins, to no avail. I made it easy for her. I had purchased a CD simply titled, “The Men” which contained the lead track, “The Church of Logic, Sin and Love,” for $1. I was excited, as this used price, in my mind, said nothing about the contents. I’ve found most of my favorite records in the cut out bins.

I put on this CD and she smiled. I don’t know if she liked the song, or was relieved that it wasn’t loud, angry young men screaming about something she couldn’t understand. Maybe she recognized from the airplay it did receive. Whatever the reason, for the next 4 minutes and 49 seconds there was harmony and agreement in the car, as The Men mused on “Work, strip bars and loneliness galore.”

Then the next song came on. And then the third. I kept waiting for another moment of similar brilliance from this underappreciated and obscure artist. It never came. I gave the disc 3 more listens in it’s entireity after that. It sounded like uninspired REM b sides or even vaguely like the unremarkable songs of minor and occasional geniuses, The Swimming Pool Q’s. But I kept the CD, I still have it, and still think the single is exceptional. I must have put it on dozens of mix tapes. Do you remember mix tapes?

The sampler CD was the natural progression from the mix tape. It allowed labels to showcase a variety of talent on the cheap, usually giving these CD’s away or selling them for $4-5. I discovered Brenda Khan on mix CD with Fishbone playing a live version of “Freddie’s Dead” and 10 otherwise unnoteworthy acts. Fishbone’s level of cool is still beyond reproach.

The song that introduced me to Brenda Khan was “Mint Juleps and Needles.” It was smart, sexy, tired, winsome and exasperated all at once, got that? There’s a post collegiate vocabulary and art school references happening throughout, and some romantic confession, “I like you better than most of the men I’ve had.” There’s the inability of the narrator to understand why the boy she likes is dating a girl who dances on a bar, and not her. That’s a lot to pack into 3 minutes 30.

Then on a caffeine laced with meth whirlwind trip to San Francisco I found another single of Ms. Khan’s, ‘Anesthesia’ which I must have played 10-15 times in a row, so amazed was I with it. My travelling companion was not as intrigued. Fuck her, I was driving. More of the same clever lyrics, with a folky band backing her. Fun stuff. There’s a reference to both Malcom X and Billy Graham, and the tag line, “They believe you if you swear your telling lies!” I was now on the hunt for this young lady, needing to hear everything else she had to say. With two exceptional singles in my possession, I was ready to buy the album, certain I’d find a masterpiece.

I paid $16 at Salzers, for a brand new copy of “Epiphany in Brooklyn” to find one more amazing song, besides the other 2 I already owned. The rest of the album was overly sentimental, boring girl folk songs of no consequence. She sang about, hell, I don’t know. There was a song about Indiana, and another where she sounded like she was learning how to fret a chord for the first time, and, and, and, I paid $16 bucks for it. Ugh.

Admittedly the third song, “I Don’t Sleep, I Drink Coffee Instead” was smart, quick witted, and I related to it like you have no idea. But come on? I was expecting something on par with an early Dylan album, “Highway 61” or “Another Side of Bob Dylan.” The songs were that good. Unfortunately for me the rest of the album wasn’t. And these days I can hardly find anything out about Ms. Khan. She has a myspace, but is about as underground as someone can be in the digital age. Youtube has precious few clips of her. Maybe her plan is to be a clever recluse. Not sure how that’s working out for her.

Enter the Primative Radio Gods. One reviewer called them the “Perfect one hit wonder.” Their hit was ““Standing Outside a Broken Phone Booth with Money in My Hand.” And I could sort of tell this was the best of what they had to say. “They” meaning, the one guy, Chris O’Conner who did most everything. And there’s nothing wrong with having one amazing track. Most artists never even get that. They scratch and claw to get played on the radio and it’s over before it starts. Don’t ask me how I knew this was going to be Primative Radio Gods “Wooly Bully”, “Sex and Candy” and “Mambo #5,” I just did. Saved my money, enjoyed it when it was on the radio and still think it’s fun when it gets played.

So most anyone can be amazing once. And sometimes, just once is enough. There are an untold number of artists who for whatever reason work for 20 years releasing small works of remarkable beauty, but never see a substantial payoff for their efforts. And there are those who stumble into a hit, brilliant or just dumb and catchy, and it makes their career and/or ruins their lives. Then the people like me, who expected the aforementioned artists to be repeatedly brilliant, because of one song he made. I was holding out hope this would be worthwhile, a hidden treasure, obscured by the more popular hit, some precious stone buried and overlooked, but no. My hunt for treasure provided me a pop top to a soda can, the foil wrapper for some gum, and the one shiny coin, I had already spotted sticking out of the sand, the one I didn’t have to look for, because I already knew it was there.

 

This is an excerpt from the authors Ebook, Cheap Women and Cheaper Beer available at: Amazon.com

The Woolly Bushmen Do What They Do Better’n You

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Sky-Bosses

The Woolly Bushmen

Chesterwick Records, 2015

There’s a cheeky playfulness running through the pulse of The Woolly Bushmen. Starting with the offhanded, Woolly Bushmen CVR 2mischievous organ groove of “The Routine,” the brothers Palombi and Mr. Miller wink wryly at us, the listeners, just to see if we’re in on it. If not, it’s o-k. This music works as sincere song craft or dramatic anachronism taken to an extreme level of dedication.

This is the second full length release from Orlando’s The Woolly Bushmen, and it finds them refining the organ they grind even further. There’s high expectations placed on these three as new standard bearers for the up and coming crop of younger garage-ish bands. A lot of garage bands will acknowledge Iggy, The Ramones, and occasionally drop in other flavors and colors to let you know, they know it’s 2015. Not The Woolly Bushmen.

It may as well be 1963 and The Beatles are just something you need to spray for if you want your garden to stand out this spring. “Two Steps Ahead” is a hiccupy burst of energy which was probably tucked away in Buddy Holly’s notebook for his next release he never quite got around to. “Out O’ Luck” is another up-beat number that struts confidently, daring you not to notice. “T’wern’t No Foolin’” and most of the album strains at the edges of pop music’s fickle boundaries and begs to be heard by every-damn-body.

The back-to-back pairing of “Screamin’ ana’ Shoutin’” and “Shake Yer Fanger” is quite possibly the greatest thing ever. Ragged and excitable, The Woolly Bushmen have embraced minimalism, and by painting with a only few colors have allowed them to do it exceptionally well. This album is amped up and transformative. Looking backwards and moving forward all at once.

www.facebook.com/Woollybushmen


Royal Holland Writes Perfect Songs

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Royal Holland

Volume Two: Flamingos

Independent Release, 2015

Cincinnaties, Ohio, gives us Royal Holland, which sounds like a cruise ship bound for the Caribbean, but isn’t. No, he’s a singer/songwriter and this five song EP is smart and chock full of sparkling folk melodies which suddenly Royal CVRburst into flat out rockers.

“The Grave opens up this collection and at first, everyone playing sounds timid to be there. But with the second verse, Holland and the band take ownership of the song and the moment.

After a light and airy beginning, “Flamingo” catches fire toward the end, with a spirited and combustible lead. “Polaroid Blues” is a rollicking number sweetened by vocals extolling “She looks pretty good to me.”

Holland is a relatable everyman who doesn’t so much opt for story telling as much conveying incidents most people can identify with. “My tears are engineers/their working overtime,” he sings easily on “These Mundane Lives.”

What Royal Holland needs to do with this smart, punchy collection of melodies is to continue his hard work with the tour eternal and make everyone everywhere hear what he has to say, post haste.

This is the picture perfect pop. With enough jangle, distortion, and melody to be the sort of act who can write the next batch of songs we would otherwise expect from Cheap Trick or Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers. In other words, the sort of artist everyone likes that isn’t (thankfully) Fleetwood Mac. Radio may not be ready for something as wonderfully entertaining as Royal Holland.

Shane Martin – Til the Wheels Fall Off

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Til the Wheels Fall Off

Shane Martin

Moody Waters Records, 2015

Minneapolis singer-songwriter Shane Martin is a good natured and affable a story teller as anyone could hope for. With his opening track, “I Am What I Am.” he declares his role as an artist and it’s the only song in the collection to shane martin CVRreference memory and nostalgia, the rest of the songs are in the here and now.

“Georgia Peach” comes dangerously close to being a country version of any number of Jimmy Buffet songs. It’s a light hearted bit of summer fun, “Checkin’ out a Georgia Peach/ On a Savannah Beach.” the song is radio ready and harder to get out of your head than sand from your shoes after that long day at the beach.

“Beer on the Brain” is a easy sing along about, well the title says it all. The rhythms aggressive and unrelenting. Title track “Til the Wheels Fall Off” closes out this collection and is sweetly reflective, and occasionally melancholy. A reminder that no one gets out of here alive, so you better “ . . . ride this life Til the Wheels Fall Off.”

Shane Martin has logged the miles and done the roadwork to arrive at this crossroads. This is a solid collection of songs and Martin’s voice is consistently confident and robust. Martin’s backing band’s performance is consistently focused and enjoyable, supporting the songs without ever overwhelming.

Shane Martin is worth a long listen and your consideration.

www.shanemartin.com

Fable Cry Deliver Dark Drama

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Fable Cry

We’ll Show You Where the Monsters Are

Independent Release, 2015

What happens when you’ve read through every Harry Potter novel and you have spent too much time indulging in some serious Cosplay?fable cry 00

Start a band heavy on theatricality and transfer your obsessions into performance. Nashville, Tennessee’s Fable Cry are self described as Theater-Scamp-Rock and write the sort of music which would make them welcome at steam-punk gatherings. While it can be jarring at first for just how out of left field their music is, the band themselves understand villians are almost always more compelling.

This said, Fable Cry attack the songs with aplomb and deliver suitably over the top performances. “Fancy Dancing” is an ominous song about seer’s and what lies ahead. Careful what you ask.

“Set Me Loose” is a gypsy campfire number with an airy delivery that’s breezy and loose. “Onion Grin” re-tells Little red Riding Hood’s story from the wolf’s perspective. “You Ain’t My Baby No More,” could be a blues number or delivered as a 70’s boogie, but here it’s a show styled tune driven by percussionist Rachel Gerlach. It’s hard not to visualize a stage performance in a cabaret, or intimate theater.

Musically, Joshua Dent on cello, and violinist Jo Cleary, offer the most emotion and expression to these numbers. Zach Ferrin’s vocal delivery and grooming appear to to be inpired by Snidley Whiplash. And yeah, he sells it. These players all set up to support the songs, and grandstanding is kept to a minimum.

Overblown and playing to the back row, Fable Cry are in this with something to prove. Their path isn’t unprecedented. Meatloaf did it and the Grease soundtrack parked itself on the charts for an extended stay. This is a show band without an obvious storyline. Each song a self-contained story detailing betrayal and life’s curious agonies.

Try this on if your sick of typical love songs.

Smoke Fairies Perform with a Delicate Resolve

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Smoke Fairies featuring Rasputina                       Live at St Pancras Old Church, 10/24/13

Smoke Fairies, for the uninitiated, are a duo from Sussex, England who specialize in blending both of their voices into dark, dreamy melodies. Katherine Blamire and Jessica Davies weave misty, troubled emotions with a supple, Smoke-Fairies_Promo-Coverand graceful ease.

Opening with “Fences,” the song could’ve been captured by Alan Lomax as he passed through Appalachia during the depression, or on a Thursday evening at the Cafe Wha in ’63. But this spartan sound and elusive timelessness done with such commitment is precisely why Smoke Fairies are so compelling.

“Living with Ghosts” comes off like an unguarded admission. The melancholy slide guitar effectively underscores the revelation, “It can get lonely/Living with ghosts.”

“Summer Fades” stands out as they sing , “Can you hold me like you held someone/You should never have let go?” this is delivered with a weary, yet hopeful dismay.

Smoke Fairies call to mind the best work of Joni Mitchell and The Cowboy Junkies without sounding like either one. There’s a frail and tender strength which permeates through all of the music.

This album was recorded in October, 2013, accompanied by Daniel Dejesus and Melora Creagor, on viola and cello, respectively, from Rasputina, along with multi-instrumentalist, Neil Walsh. Their accompaniment is sultry and intimate.

We can hear the audience applaud in between songs, but more than a performance, this sounds as though the band is playing for themselves. Like slow burning coals, these songs positively smolder with intensity.

This is a limited edition, vinyl only release. It’s stunning for how perfectly beautiful it is.

www.smokefairies.com

Nashville Pussy – Hot Time in City

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Nashville Pussy Hot Time in City

w/Valiant Thorr and American Party Machine

@ Will’s Pub, Orlando, FL, August 19, 2015

Gritty, raw and and as jagged as a shattered beer bottle used to get the upper hand in a bar fight, Nashville Pussy is Nashville Pussy (42) vgall these things and more. Unconcerned with life’s refinements, their live show is a sucker punch connecting straight between the eyes.

This Atlanta band isn’t here to break new musical ground. They deliver angry Southern rock for punks and speedfreaks who grew up listening to Skynyrd but didn’t have the patience to suffer through “Freebird” in its enteirity.

Thankfully. Keeping the stage banter to a minimum, the songs came one after another, hard, strong and delivered with subtlety of a convicted killer having his last conjugal visit. There’s an precise urgency which courses deep in this bands psyche and they are going to prove themselves each and every time they play. “High as Hell,” Hate and Whiskey,” and my own new personal favorite, “The South’s too Fat to Rise Again” were plowed through, only stopping long enough to drink Jack straight from the bottle.Nashville Pussy (53) vg

This band is often described as an American version of Motorhead and it’s a fair comparrison. Lemmy only wishes his band mates looked as good in skirts. Motorhead never put out crap, and neither have Nashville Pussy. The life lesson here, keep your rock simple, straight forward and ornery as hell.

From Chapel Hill, North Carolina came Valiant Thorr in support. They delivered a strong opening set of boogie and space rock filtered through Red Bull. VT have a strong stage presence and huge sound. Their set made me want to see them in full flight as headliners.

And then there were the antics of American Party Machine. From Orlando came the one and only Worl Wresting American Party Machine (22) vgstylings of AMP. Covered in red, white and blue to the gills, these guys meant business. Overblown and outsized, this was equal parts performance art and Stoner rock. And I dug it. The more upbeat the better. In a world where everyone feels they have something to say, AMP were refreshing for an unpretentious, easily surmised belief system. Primarily America and weed. Nuff Said

.What else is there?

 

Nashville Pussy (30) vg Nashville Pussy (42) vg Nashville Pussy (53) vg Nashville Pussy (66) vg Nashville Pussy (73) vg Nashville Pussy (74) vg Nashville Pussy (12) vg Nashville Pussy (17) vg Valiant Thor (9) vg Valiant Thor (8) vg American Party Machine (23) vg American Party Machine (27) vg Valiant Thor (7) vg

Angela Moyra Musical Travelogue Fickle Island

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Angela Moyra

Fickle Island

This is what happens when a jazz singer slinks into a coffee shop and plays around with an acoustic guitar. Dutch singer Angela Moyra’s US debut is distinctive for how surprising it is. This is a tropical cabaret show better suited for ANGELAMOYRA - fickle island - onesheet (2)a tiki bar for those who are ready to unplug and disconnect from the maddening crowd. Sure Moyra noodles around with pop, and ragtime, and she seems overly fond of the ukelele, but this is refreshing as it is different and unexpected.

“Fickle” bounces along brightly with a pedal steel underscoring her dreamy lighter than air voice.

And “Bubbalu” could be straight from Tin Pan Alley. Playful, animated, and mostly irresistible.

“Little Town By The Sea” is quiet song of tender longing. But with “Hati Sakit.” Moyra’s voice here is tormented, and quietly resigned. The most serious song on the disc, it’s a thoroughly vexed folk song.

Overall these songs are sunny, upbeat and ever hopeful. Light and breezy, these salt soaked melodies designed for decompressing.

No Fraud Rule the Night

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No Fraud Live @ Uncle Lou’s

W/Pool Party, Manic and the Depressives, Tight Genes

August 21, 2015, Orlando, Florida

The legendary old school hardcore act No Fraud played last Friday Night. They came, they saw, and kicked No fraud (76) vgeveryone’s collective dicks right in the dirt.

It doesn’t really matter how good a band is, this is No Fraud, and they will make pretty much anyone look half-assed were they to share a bill with them. Why do you think the Stones never have them open?

This said, I did rather enjoy Manic and the Depressive’s terse set of better than usual punk fare. They are worth checking out. And from Miami came Pool Party who are nothing short of great. Fun, self deprecating and with nothing serious to scream about, made for a memorable show with songs like “I Was a Teen-age Weirdo” and “Evil Tonite.” The lesson here is anyone who has a song you’re singing along with by the time the second chorus rolls around, did something right.

Pool Party's  Creepy Gurido

Pool Party’s
Handy Gloveless

I’m not exactly sure of the details of the incident, but Tight Genes set was cut short by someone’s extra punk-ish behavior. Their set went sideways and ended as quick as it started.

No Fraud came on and delivere 30 of the busiest minutes you’ll ever experience. Moving with the speed of papparazo’s trying to get that Last pic of Lady Di, No Fraud slammed through a 18 song set with a punishing efficiency.

Vocalist Dan Destructo blasts through the crowd, on top of the bar, and out in the street, maintaining a pace you’d more expect from the Tasmanian Devil. The audience was transfixed, save for the one annoying girl who kept prattling on a bout her missing car keys. The band is tight. Like caught in a vice tight.

You probably missed this show, so shame on you. It can be easy to take an artist for granted when they’ve been around a long time. I spoke with lots of people at the show who said similar things. “I saw them in the 80’s.”

No fraud (75) vg“I played a show with them in the 90’s.”

“Saw the in 2013 and I’ve seen them 4 times since.”

Watching No Fraud perform live is a lot like witnessing an old master show everyone just how much more they have yet to learn.

 

www.facebook.com/pages/NO-FRAUD

http://therealpoolparty.bandcamp.com

No fraud (74) vg No fraud (76) vg No fraud (59) vg No fraud (56) vg No fraud (75) vg No fraud (41) vg No fraud (25) vg No fraud (83) vg Manic and the depressives vg (1) Pool Party (9)

Get in the Van Before it Breaks Down Again

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On the Road Again, part 2

Get in the Van Before it Breaks Down Again

by Chris M.

We’d been trying to book a show in Athens GA for around 3 years with no luck, it was a huge college town and Genki piceveryone kept telling us that we were missing. I’d called, emailed, and basically begged for a chance to get even a week night show…nothing. Then, one day our other guitarist calls me up to say that we were just offered a Saturday show at the biggest venue in town. A few weeks later we’re about 2 hours into our drive when we hear a strange noise from the van…”we’ll check it out later”, I thought. Nope. We hear what sounds like a gunshot and pieces of tire shoot out across the highway. We pull over and find that our spare has either fallen off or was stolen, but never mind that, even if we had one, our jack is busted so we’re out of luck. A few hours pass and we finally convince someone to help us out. We buy a new spare and we’re on our way. We get to the venue late to see that it’s a ghost town. Then it finally registers, this is a college town and its late June. No wonder we got the date, everyone had gone home for summer. Anyway, we play our set for the 4 people and the club owner hands us roughly $12. We get to the parking lot and find out that we have a headlight out. There goes our $12. After a small delay we’re back on the road. An hour or so passes and we hear another strange noise. Boom! The remaining 3 tires blow at the same time and we’re sent scraping in the railing. We pay a tow truck $150 to drive us 4 exits up to get dropped off in the Walmart parking lot to wait another 5 hours for them to open. Another $250 and 4 new tires later we’re back on our way. We never played Athens again.

http://genkigenkipanic.com/

 

 

 

Gabe Close – Leave the Light On

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Leave the Light On

Gabe Close

Independent Release, 2015

“Weary Mind” kicks off this collection of songs by Louisville, Kentucky singer/songwriter Gabe Close. It’s upbeat and gabe close CVReasy to get sucked into the chorus. “Everything Reminds Me of You” is more laid back and the purposeful piano carries the tune with a nice throwback feel to The Band. This classic Americana vibe is the heart and soul of this release. “Say Goodbye” is another slower number, but the lush harmonies make it stand out.

“Disposable” takes us back the feeling from the disc’s start. Up-tempo with a yearning vocal delivery. Close reflects on a desire for something built to last. He wraps up the release with a soulful (and hopeful) “Crippling Weight.” The horns soar and pop with an enthusiastic commitment to better days.

There’s a relaxed intensity on display here. And Gabe Close presenting himself as fearless songwriter makes us want more. Leave the Light On is a great introduction to all he has to say.

www.gabeclose.com

 

 

We Don’t Need No Stinkin’ Drummer!!

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On the Road Again, part 3

We Don’t Need No Stinkin’ Drummer!!

by Paul Wunder

We were doing a gig in Philly at a place called Grendel’s Lair. Our drummer (we had a Spinal Tap-like drummer situation. This drummers name was Uncle Private~) quit a couple of night before. Of course we still try do play the gig. We concocted an effeminate acoustic version of the band (we called ourselves Rex, Bruce And Darrell) and paul wunderquickly worked up loungy unplugged renditions of our songs. We stay at hippie manager’s friends loft during the day. I eat many cheese steaks. Somehow the plans changed at the last minute and we decided to just do our normal thing and pretend we had a drummer. We rock THE FUCK out of this little club! After the show one of the people in attendance came up and told us if we had a drummer, we’d be the best band in Philadelphia! Assured of our place in Philly music history we drove home victorious. Thanks to our singer/driver and his keen attention to detail we ran out of gas on the way home and had to sleep in the car in front of a rural gas station until they opened in the morning. Good times!

Edith Massy was also supposed to be on this bill, and didn’t make it for some reason ( I did some gigs with Edie as a guitarist)
Also, we were opening for am XXX rated puppet show called “Let My People Come!”

The end!

Greece Has Turbo Charged Snails

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The Snails

The Snails

Action Records

There are memorable bands and then there are The Snails, who quite frankly, rule.

The Snails are everything you want and need in a great garage band. Burly and rawboned, rough on the edges with Snailssome occasionally sweet sentiments buried deep within. There’s a familiar and seedy vibe the band exudes as they muscle their way through the songs in this eponymous collection.

The guitar tone Lampros K generates is filthy and smells of burnt oil. “Sidewalks” sneers and snarls through a jolting three minutes thirty seconds.

“Haifa Nights” is controlled chaos and stunning for the way the harmonica and guitar harmonize and tear the familiar melody in to something dangerous and seductive.

With “I’m Five Years Ahead of my Time,” they channel the ghost of Arthur Lee and Love at it’s finest. Psychedelic, swirling and hypnotic, the song stammers and howls in irrisistable fits. Like that beater car you bought where something’s always going wrong, but it just refuses to quit, this is a persistent and dogged performance. “Tide” honks and spits like an Animals b-side. Disenfranchised, austerity measured Greeks channeling angry, post-war-everything-rationed Brits channeling depression era Mississippi Delta bluesmen, ya’ll dig?

And the songs continue to get better as you venture deeper into the disc. “Gypsy Woman” and “Satisfaction Guaranteed” burns as fast and brightly as a shooting star. At the end, and just because they can, they throw in a surf rock ditty which shreds effortlessly.

The Snails are edgy and gaunt. With a simply propulsive rhythm section , but their secret weapon is the harmonica seamlessly exchanging leads with the guitar.

Fourteen songs on here and not a dud in the lot. In this day and age of the interweb, you have no reason for not having this brighten your playlist.

www.facebook.com/pages/The-Snails

www.thesnails.gr

American Pinup Worth Checking Out

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The Radio EP

American Pinup

Altercation Records, 2015

American Pinup self-identify as a pop-punk band and all that does is sell them short. With this 4 song EP, they Am pin upmanage to navigate through four distinctly different numbers. From roaring, over-sized choruses to dramatic whispers ,American Pinup pull of a clever balancing act on this musical tight-rope.

“The Radio” is a funky shuffle pushed along by a some inventive drumming and the use of space. This is a different color palate than most punks would choose to paint with. “Committed” swells with big, hooky “Whoa-ohs” which are easy to get attached to.

Full of sweet melodies and crackling guitars, this is crunch-pop at it’s finest. It would be easy to focus on Lauren West darkly evocative voice, but this band loves to throw in subtle touches which help make the songs stand apart.Am pin up 02

https://www.facebook.com/americanpinup

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