Steel Guitar Air Show

DUE TO CIRCUMSTANCES BEYOND OUR CONTROL WE ARE NO LONGER ABLE TO CARRY THIS ALBUM

It is, simply put, the last word in tiki-inflected, spaghetti western, when's-the-Rat-Pack-showin'-up? geezer rock.

Full Description

Back in the day, when musicianship was still valued by the music industry, any respectable record collection had more than a few instrumental records. These records were perfect for stacking on the LP. They were good for dinner music, wiling away the hours or even better—getting busy. That’s right, grandma and grandpa were putting that Jackie Gleason record on AFTER they turned off the Lawrence Welk show.

Above all this music was fun. And it's that spirit of fun that is captured on Steel Guitar Air Show. We tried to convince our pal, Jon Rauhouse, that the lounge revival was over. Undaunted, he donned his smoking jacket and broke out his pick and slide. Chock fill of classics like "Perfidia," "The Lonely Bull," and "Choo Choo Ch’ Boogie," a mix of spunky originals and guest stars like Neko Case, Sally Timms, Kelly Hogan and Calexico and more, it’s part Speedy West and Jimmy Bryant back from the grave and part Esquivel wearing spurs. Add up all these parts, throw in the unquestionable technical mastery of one tricky instrument and Steel Guitar Air Show will guarantee your next dinner party or lazy afternoon won’t crash and burn.

It is, simply put, the last word in tiki-inflected, spaghetti western, when's-the-Rat-Pack-showin'-up? geezer rock. We highly recommend mixing a pitcher of Mai Tais, slipping into those silk pajamas (you know, the ones with the little horsies and ukeleles on them), turn up the heat to 85 degrees, and get real, REAL gone. Seriously, if you can listen to this record without being put in a better mood, without a content, distant smile creeping up on you, you should see a specialist. Really.

Short Description

Recalls Roy Smeck's buoyant Hawaiian guitar themes, Bob Wills's infectious western swing, Walter Wanderly's umbrella-in-yer-drink lounge jazz, and Santo & Johnny's shimmering desert strolls.
— Chicago Reader
Listening to Rauhouse's mixture of originals and carefully-chosen covers is like driving a big old convertible down a grassy field lined highway; if the mood was any more authentic, you'd be able to smell the fresh cut grass, hear the mooing cows and read the sequential Burma Shave signs ... so smooth that it feels almost as good as having suntan lotion rubbed into your back by a drop-dead gorgeous member of whichever sex you're into.
— Splendid E-Zine
May just be the weirdest Bloodshot record yet; it's a masterfully played, slightly goofy look at an older generation's version of chill-out music.
— The Onion
The disc is prime, ultra-hip, cruising in your car, post lounge material.
— Phoenix New Times