On I’m Glad Trouble Don’t Last Always, his fifth album and third for Bloodshot Records, Luke Winslow-King draws from a deep, dark creative well, turning heartbreak and divorce into an inspired soundtrack for picking up the pieces.
The album plays like the jukebox at the full service honky-tonk saloon, jazz club, Tin Pan Alley pitch house, and blues joint along the tracks. Get off at the Carrboro station.
Side A is a down home slice of Alabama jive, all syncopation and kazoo. It'll have you dancing around the bonfire, shoes off and your drink on...
Struggles between balance and outburst, infectious choruses fronting emotional torment are sung with a sneer, a spit, or a tenderness and openness that is both intensely personal and universally relatable. It is, as the title suggests, real.
A psychedelic soul mantra. Taken as a meditation, it stabilizes and focuses. There might be roaches in the kitchen, but there’s roaches in the ashtray, too.
Built on the sonic intersection of the Bad Livers’ lawless next-gen traditional country & bluegrass, and Black Flag’s burn-it-all-down revolt and breakneck tempos. High wire musicianship, debilitating despair, wild-eyed hope, and sharp-elbowed views of social (in)justice.
Fulks's storytelling through folk and bluegrass music on 'Upland Stories' delivers the quieter, sometimes unsettling truths of humanity.
With a body of work known for the indelicate and raucous, this may be their most deliberate and punchy yet—no one’s more dangerous than a man with nothing to lose. The title can be read two different ways, after all.
Recorded live at one of HHT's adopted hometowns (they have so many, really) during Thanksgiving weekend 2014.
At once bluegrass, blues, folk, and country, it is also none of them. It is a product of two voices intertwined with one another for over three decades. It might be best summarized as Appalachian soul. Pure Freakwater
Folk-punk lifers The Mekons teamed up with Chicago’s musical polyglot Robbie Fulks for a month to record this limited-edition collection of rough sea shanties and mournful tales pulled from the fog of the bay and the fog of the local whiskey distillery
'American Man' taps into the disparate, murky pools of the American musical lexicon; dark country to kinetic punk, acid blues to flared jeans boogie, low-brow backdrops pitted against high-minded literary references. It’s an edgy, engrossing trip.
An album as relevant as their formative early work; political by not being political, re-affirming our greatest aspirations by focusing on the tiniest of truths.
With the raw vocals, thick and nasty guitar tones, and preternaturally locked-in rhythm section, Under the Savage Sky might be the most soulful punk record—or perhaps the most punk soul record— you’ve ever heard.