• Underneath the layer of hillbilly quirkiness is a band comprised of gifted musicians, talented bluegrass songwriters, and best of all, artists fully in tune with the darker side of a genre that is often too preoccupied with down-home niceties.

    — PopMatters
  • Musically they stay close to the roots with their stellar ensemble pickin’ and the high lonesome sound of lead vocalist Jo Walston, but their snappy original material and their ability to transform pop chestnuts proves that there’s nothing retro or neo in this gang.

    — Stereo-Type
  • When they get cookin', you'll suddenly ask 'Is there really that much difference between a fiddle-sizzling hoedown ditty and a balls-to-the-wall hardcore track?' Methinks not.

    — Splendid Zine
  • Guaranteed to lighten up even the sternest-visaged among us, The Meat Purveyors provide enough pure sensory overload to batter back whatever bummed you out to begin with.

    — St. Louis Riverfront Times
Austin, TX

For the better part of a decade, Austin's The Meat Purveyors were the skunk tossed into the tent of stoic bluegrass revivalism. Always more Brothers Ramone than Brothers Osborne and more comfy in boots jack than cowboy, TMP are still able to out-lament most of the current crop of high lonesome pretenders. 

Whiskey-fueled and case-hardened deep in the heart of Texas, TMP boast a personal history that would shame Fleetwood Mac, and wood shedding that sends so-called roots revivalists, snooty bluegrass purists, and alt-country poseurs into paroxysms of self-doubt and years of expensive therapy.

And just who are these Texans who dare to breathe fresh life into the overly stoic, staid and mossback world of bluegrass? Anchoring this dysfunctional lot with his percussion guitar and gift for lyrics is Austin Music Hall of Fame inductee Bill Anderson -a veteran of several Austin bands of note including Bigfoot Chester, Ballad Shambles and the legendary Poison 13. Diva Jo Walston is a honky tonk angel gone wrong under a towering beehive, while Miss Cherilyn DiMond delivers piledriver stand-up bass and harmonies directly from the choir (and banter directly from the truck stop parking lot). Mr. Peter Stiles, a reformed (we hope) Deadhead, presents a flabbergasting prestidigitation on the mandolin and it is rumored that he has never played a bad solo. Ever. Darcie Deaville provides the fiery fiddling and the wild-eyed stares that fans fear to love and love to fear.


Compilation Tracks: 
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