With a sound that calls to mind a meeting of Otis Redding and the Stooges—JC Brooks & the Uptown Sound get crowds twisting and writhing on the floor--a post-punk reimagining of JB’s moves and MG’s grooves.
Influenced by generations of country music tradition, with debts owed to Webb Pierce, Jimmy Martin, Hank Williams Sr. and Ola Belle Reed + a bear hug of a rich voice =hard core country, my friends.
They sit at the crossroads of Americana and indie, where Alabama meets Arcade Fire, shakes their hand and takes them out for a drink.
A record that’s perfect for late Indian summer nights on either the front porch or fire escape, Justin’s found yet another way to be a timeless original. As versed in Mance Lipscomb as he is in M. Ward.
MF'n OUTLAW country. Whitey and the boys play with a muscular attack and energy that fills the album with an edge that Nashville’s misplaced or forgotten entirely.
Even when he’s at his most quiet, it doesn’t get any more real—or more loud—than Scott H Biram.
SHB maintains the blues-metal-countrypunk-rock but strengthens it with crack guitar playing and shrewdly-crafted songwriting.
Their explosive live performance at Jack White's Third Man studio was nigh-instantaneously pressed up on wax and ready for sale...
To sum up: The space. The rivers. The tall grass. Went back to the folk and blues, back to Townes and Dylan, Jim Harrison and Sam Shepard, driving instead of flying.
The Jelly Bishops was a thinly veiled collaboration between the Mekons and Three Johns in 1986 - Tom Greenhalgh, Jon Langford and John Brennan (+ Hugo the 3 Johns drum machine) posed as the Jelly Bishops ("We are Ran
Throughout the album is Exene’s characteristic blend of folk, deep country and poppy, wide open spaces. The album brings together the potential and innocence of young love, the gravity of departure, and the symbolic changing of seasons.
Psychedelic desert pop music. Straddles delirium and ecstasy, when the vultures circling overhead look like doves. It's the sound of a bead of condensation rolling down a beer glass at a grimy cantina.
Full of soulful urgency and longing, conjuring the ghosts of mates-in-spiritual-arms from Dylan Thomas to Johnny Cash.