Tied And True

Digital

Soul lives below the belt, and whether you’re looking to be grinding it slow or shaking it up good, the Cobras bring it tough and tender, savage and sweet. Tied and true.

Full Description

CD OUT OF PRINT. ALBUM AVAILABLE IN THE DIGITAL REALM ONLY

When we come into this world, some of us get tapped on the head by God, the Grand Poobah, Mother Nature or who/whatever and are granted extraordinary gifts; there is no question that Detroit Cobras’ singer Rachel Nagy rolled snake eyes at the Grand Casino in the Sky. With Tied And True, the Cobras practically done created a new genre all for themselves, delivering the sonic goods to back up some seriously supernatural soulful vocal gifts.

Untrained and undisciplined (and how!), Rachel started out by belting revved-up rock yowlers and has grown into the gen-u-ine gutsy, vulnerable, delicate and commanding soul-on-the-edge singer. She effortlessly glides from R&B sass, to girl group pathos to kitten-with-a-whip toughness with a snap of her chipped fingernails. Longtime musical partner in crime, guitarist Mary Ramirez keeps the DE-troit Motor City in the Cobras with her body shop wallop, greasy rock ‘n soul rhythms and a bold grasp of old school, big room arrangements.

Stretching out in the studio like never before, and including contributions from top line players like Greg Cartwright (Reigning Sound) the Cobras have created a versatile and formidable wall of Spector sound (the "cool musical genius" Spector, not the "creepy wigged-out with model/actress dying under suspicious circumstances at his house" Spector). Is that timpani you’re hearing here and there? Yer goddamn right it is. Be it eerie or orchestral, or pure rock and roll rough up, Tied and True puts the Cobras on a whole new level—of many sources but a genus all its own.

Getting the Cobras treatment this go 'round are soul legends like James Brown ("If You Don't Think"), Gino Washington ("Puppet on a String"), Garnett Mimms ("As Long As I Have You"), as well as the Soul Queen of New Orleans Irma Thomas ("The Hurt's All Gone.") Other highlights are the near punk rock versions of Little Willie John's "Leave Me Kitten Alone" and Leadbelly's "On A Monday."

Soul lives below the belt, and whether you’re looking to be grinding it slow or shaking it up good, the Cobras bring it tough and tender, savage and sweet. Tied and true.

CHOICE CUTS:

Choice cuts? You kiddin' me? This platter is a dance party from front to back.

Short Description

The Cobras don't go for the gut as much on this new album, their first in three years. More often, they go for the crotch, seducing the listener with a snaky late-night slow-dance, pulling you close enough to feel Rachel Nagy's hot breath on your tingling neck.

— Stomp and Stammer
Combining girl-group hooks and harmonies with high-octane, Motor City garage rock, the Detroit Cobras conjure the 1960s era of Top 40 AM radio and vinyl 45s--singer Rachel Nagy has attitude to burn and the mixed-gender band plays with plenty of rough-hewn energy.

— Amazon.com
On Tied and True the Cobras stake a claim as the most intuitive and soulful garage band on the planet.

— Amplifier
Sure, it's red-blooded and raw, but it's also as beautiful as it is brassy. In other words, bad girls make good.

— Playboy
By stripping their music of pretensions and instead heaping on enough attitude to make Gene Vincent proud, the Cobras do the unthinkable: make rock 'n' roll simple, fun and irresponsible. And in the 21st century, that's damn hard to do without seeming horribly self-conscious.

— Magnet
This instantly became one of my favorite albums of the year...A knockout.

— USA Today
Combining girl-group hooks and harmonies with high-octane, Motor City garage rock, the Detroit Cobras conjure the 1960s era of Top 40 AM radio and vinyl 45s--singer Rachel Nagy has attitude to burn and the mixed-gender band plays with plenty of rough-hewn energy.

— Amazon.com
When Nagy's voice cracks and breaks it achieves the Platonic ideal of horndog pathos, a rallying cry to every sadomasochistic,co-dependent, sorry-ass fool who ever drunk-dialed an ex.

— Illinois Times