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Devil In A Woodpile cooks up a sound that transcends the notions of time or critical delineation. This is ur-music (man, I've been waitin' since I graduated from college to pull that one out). It is blues, it is ragtime, it is country presented in its primal, pre-war--we're talkin' the one against the Kaiser, folks--acoustic glory. Music from a time when there weren't any genres, formats, or specialty sections in record stores. It is the music of back porches on hot summer nights, staring down a baking section of dirt road, and of getting crocked on the homemade stuff. It's all here.

This self-titled CD is the handy work of Rick "Cookin'" Sherry (vocals, harmonica, washboard, jug, bass drum), Paul K. (National Steel and arch top guitars), and Tom Ray (stand-up bass, ukulele). Rick and Paul have been making time the past few years backing renowned Delta bluesman Honeyboy Edwards (a protege of none other than Robert Johnson himself), while Tom has been kept busy with his work in the Bottle Rockets, Pine Valley Cosmonauts and Waco Brothers. There's even some guest work on tuba (keeping that low, LOW end) from Chicago's greatest soundman (Lounge Ax, Son Volt, etc) Gary Elvis. All of this was recorded in three days flat at Uber Studios (Freakwater, Blacks, Neko Case) in the manner that suits them best: live.

This disc lovingly recreates the sounds of the birth of virtually all roots music in America--stuff pilfered repeatedly down the years by the likes of Bob Wills, Hanks Williams, Sonny Terry and Brownie McGhee, Jimmie Rodgers, Carl Perkins, Flatt & Scruggs, Bad Livers, Leon Redbone, and Muddy Waters. Even them Led Zeppelin bums.

"It is so much fun, so utterly enjoyable, it disarms criticism." 3rd Coast Music

"Strung together, the songs echo and scrape against one another to evoke a seamless roots-music dream that is at once ancient and completely outside of time. [It is a] dexterous and relentless attack of gospel, blues, pop, swamp music, and hillbilly music played with a nod, a wink, a snarl, a grin, or closed eyes as the situation demands." Chicago Reader