What’s popping in the world of music lately, kids? It’s the holidays, so music news is slow, but here’s what I’ve got.
Let’s get to it.
RIP to the late, great Roy Clark. I remember watching a whole lot of him on Hee-Haw as a kid. Definitely a loss for country music.
Kacey Musgraves won Album of The Year at the CMA’s, which is fucking amazing. I know Chris Stapleton released a banger, but Kacey deserved every inch of that win. She’s not playing the CMA game and has continually done her own thing with a refusal to be a Nashville commodity. So big ups to Texas’ best.
Since High on Fire isn’t on their tour, they’re writing new music, so that’s a good use of their time. There’s never enough Matt Pike jams in the world, toe or not.
Dude from All That Remains was potentially murdered. Talk about a plot twist.
Metallica donated $100K to help California battle the wildfires. Karma points right there, dudes.
If there was an award for burnout, I think I’d be at least in strong contention to win Burner of The Year. I’ve been writing a lot of stuff lately, and there’s no end in sight.
I typically work on the weekends, playing catch up on writing I owe, but this weekend, I’m seeing Joshua Hedley AND Lucero. I will likely need an IV by Sunday. (No one sees Lucero sober.)
Pray for me.
This past weekend was the Texas Book Fair, and in my adventures visiting my friends @ Clash Books, I stumbled on Why The Ramones Matter, and I’m psyched on this book. It’s a collection of stories, anecdotes, and observations on why our world is still impacted by these four guys from Queens who were all taken way too soon.
Todd Burge, singer-songwriter dude from West Virginia has two records dropping at the same time, with each being recorded 32 years apart. The earlier of the two is straight up garage rock in the style of the Stooges, while the newer record is stripped down Americana ballads. I’m a first record kinda guy, but both are easily able to stoke a fire for plenty of Y'all.
Slipknot has a new song called “All Out Life” which sounds A LOT like their first record.
High on Fire canceled their US tour because Matt Pike lost his big toe. Is it me or does this make him way more metal?
The Red Hot Chili Peppers played a few tunes at Chad Smith’s kid’s high school on Halloween, but it prompts me to ask a more significant, more depressing question: do these kids even know who the Chili Peppers are?
Kids today like music that sounds like Pepsi commercials made by shitheads with face tattoos. I’m no Chili Peppers fan, but I wonder if they primarily played for all of the middle-aged teachers like me vs. the demographic who buys those $40 tee shirts.
Converge mastermind Kurt Ballou offered gives a tour of his God City Studio aka the place where all of the best records are made.
Ashrr is a David Bowie meets Stranger Things theme song band that’s pretty sweet if you’re into dark synth-y stuff. NPR’s All Songs Considered even featured it.
Seriously, while Texas and Tennessee get the love for being hotbeds of country music, what the hell dances in the water down in Kentucky?
Senora May is yet another artist who’s redefining what it sounds like to rise up from the bluegrass state and does so with such a charismatic, unique flair.
On Lainhart, May doesn’t channel the requisite names we’re all used to hearing from everyone’s favorite slice of Appalachia, but instead, May is an impressive mixture that’s a little bit of Lucinda Williams, but a metric ton of John Prine. I’d also be remiss to say given the razor-sharp observations to the record’s lyrics on songs like "California King," I sense a non-linear influence by Kathleen Hannah at some point.
The songs on Lainhart aren’t straight ahead country bangers, but instead this collection feels like an off-kilter exorcism that’s not as dark as expected down in the bible belt, but instead, feels like a calling back to something missing, a moment in a time, or maybe a feeling that’s imprinted on her bones.
Being her first record, Lainhart is an impressive effort, with many nods to May’s rural upbringing, and without the cheese, many country singers rely on for some dopey sense of “authenticity” but instead, tracks like “Elusive” or “Gone From The Mountain” feel genuine.
May’s music doesn’t feel like it was written by a hardened road dog, but instead like we’re getting a sheltered peak behind the pine curtain off into the hollers, which makes it feel like an old ghost. And that's a damn fine way to be.
If you’re looking to fill that emotionally charged void left by waiting for new stuff by Tyler Childers, Chelsea Nolan’s debut e.p. Chelsea is an excellent place to start. On Chelsea, Nolan taps into a slow and steady dive bar tempo that’s the soundtrack down here in my fair city of Austin, Texas. The tunes are in the same vein of Childer’s Purgatory, and I’d be hard pressed to find someone who doesn’t appreciate how Nolan channels an electric mix of Lucinda Williams’ growl, but also some Janis Joplin heartache and howls, too.
“Rock Bottom” doesn’t feel trite, or without its moments of chaos, instead, it’s raw and powerful. The song is country, but it’s got a rock and roll heart. There’s something about eastern Kentucky, these folks have a sense of rhythm that’s different than the rest of the country, the sound is becoming instantly recognizable, and on tracks like “Green Bridges” and “Sugar Holler”, Nolan is almost textbook in how to do the sound correctly.
Dan Conn is another Kentuckian, but unlike Chelsea Nolan, Conn’s sound is a little more subdued, less “Kentucky.” The vibe on his new record, Shine On, Conn’s approach is decidedly less honky-tonk and more bar room bummer.
If you’re looking for a driving record or something to throw on while you throw a few back, Shine On hits the mark. The standout tracks on the album are “The Pistol”, “Southern Accent”, and “Green Eyed Gal”, all which are 100% pure no bullshit country music, the exact stuff you shove in someone’s face when they ask you about pop country vs. the good stuff; that’s what Dan Conn is for. Give em’ Shine On to suck on.
There are a few clear indicators of artists like Wilco, The Jayhawks, and Tom Petty threaded throughout Shine On, and the more spins I give it, the more it proves to be something that could find its way into your favorite dive bar jukebox.
I dunno about you, but dive bar jukeboxes are the holy grail of cool, so that’s some pretty good damn company. Dan Conn can write a sad bastard song for the ages.
You can pre-order Shine On (due Nov. 30) here: https://www.danconnmusic.com/store
What’s good with your life? The kids ok? Your mother in law still bugging you? She’ll get over it. They all do. We’ve all got some stuff to get through, and sometimes blasting some jammers is the only thing keeping you sane, and there ain’t nothing wrong with that.
First up is, ho-lee crap did you see the videos of the dude from Deer Tick fronting Nirvana? That was awesome. Look, he ain’t Kurt. No one is Kurt Cobain, ok? But, that said, he did a fantastic job capturing the presence of an icon via “Scentless Apprentice” and “Serve The Servants”, which some dickhead audiophile blog referred to as “deep cuts.”
I guess if you only know “Smells Like Teen Spirit”, those are deep cuts, but to anyone who actually likes Nirvana, those are as well known as anything. Joan Jett did a few tunes with the dudes, too, but ultimately they didn’t have the oomph that John Macaulay had. Either way, I’d cut off a hand to see anyone play Nirvana songs and give me a chance to holler at the top of my lungs. Do it for the kids, Krist and Dave. I’d say cash in, but neither of you needs the money, so do it for us.
The American Music Awards happened and Migos, some mumble rap bullshit won for best pop/rock group. So, that’s where we are on the national landscape, huh? Corey Taylor, a man of many opinions dropped his .02 about the subject, and ultimately, I agree: you can’t sell Pepsi to rock and metal. We’re too dangerous, and you know what? When Migos is winning awards meant for rock and roll, all I can say is 'good.' Let the music fester in the clubs, and when the next wave comes, hopefully, the music business is even deeper in the lurch.
Vision of Disorder is doing a show in Brooklyn, and I’m mad I can’t go.
Speaking of former band dudes doing classic tracks, Philip Anselmo and The Illegals are randomly ripping out Pantera tunes along the tour, and damn, they sound scary good. They should consider doing a “night of Pantera” or something of the like because that band is as tight as Pantera circa Far Beyond Driven.
I’m seeing Paul McCartney Friday night. I’d write the show up, but really, do you think it’s going to suck? Extremely doubtful. I’ll save you the trouble with a prediction: it was awesome.
If there was ever a human who’s been written about ad-nauseam, it’s Paul McCartney. His life story has been told over and over, his every note has been picked apart, his lyrics have inspired college courses, and psychologists alike. He will remain immortal while the rest of us fade into the ether.
What do you write about when a guy has been obsessed over so much? I’m not new to the Beatles game (one of my son’s middle names is Lennon). I’ve been a die-hard for as long as I can remember, and while John has some of the best stand-alone Beatles tracks, and the best Beatles song ever, in “Day In The Life,” Paul pound for pound had more songs that were better.
But, once the Beatles broke up, Paul was left to his own devices; he had to make a career in the ashes of his former band. A band that wasn’t just big, but the band that literally changed the world. That’s a heavy burden to bear for any of the now former Beatles. Suddenly, this dude who wanted to write spinning epics, and operas, but also quirky barbershop tunes was out of his dynamic – he’d started playing within what would become the Beatles at 15 with John Lennon.
What Paul McCartney came up with was light years better than any of the garbage John cranked out. Sorry, while John Lennon gets this cultural pass as this too cool for school autre, it was McCartney writing the solid records. Plastic Ono Band has, maybe a handful of solid tracks, while McCartney has cuts that rival any of the Beatles best work.
Listen to those first two McCartney records, they pre-date a lot Jack White and Dan Auerbach's DNA. Those early solo records were created with one vision, a lot of elbow grease and hustle. There's an elemental funk there, a lapse of polish, which makes them all the more appealing today. McCartney showed loud and clear that the soul of the Beatles wasn't just John and his beard.
I wasn’t always high on Paul McCartney’s solo stuff. Honestly, I find a lot of his solo stuff corny. “Silly Love Songs,” “Lovely Linda,” “Wonderful Christmastime” – I hate all of them with the fire of a thousand suns. “That Would Be Something” is pure Beatles. In fact, those two first McCartney records feature a lot of tracks that reach far past his former bandmates, with no disrespect to George Harrison, because All Things Must Pass is a stellar record.
But, it was an unlikely source that turned me onto Paul McCartney’s solo tunes: Howard Stern. Because I’m a regular Stern listener, I get to hear Howard rant and rave about all kinds of things I love, explicitly explaining how much country music, vinyl, and Halloween suck. But one thing Howard did turn me onto is how much Paul McCartney’s solo stuff is vastly underrated.
Once while lecturing joke writer, and continuously homeless Benjy Bronk, Stern played McCartney’s “Too Many People” a song written about John Lennon and applied to Bronk’s tardiness and taking advantage of the system in place, considering the high pay and three day work week.
It was after hearing that track and then digging deeper into RAM and McCartney that I’d realized I’d not given Paul his proper due. While, I’m not a massive Band on The Run fan, “Let Me Roll It” could be used in any lonely bar scene in a Tarantino flick. That’s an all-time banger, rivaling anything on Let It Be.
I appreciate that Howard is relentless in his adoration of McCartney’s music, it was sweet listening to him interview Paul recently because it was from such a genuine place of love and respect, he also tried to do the same with former Led Zeppelin frontman Robert Plant, but Plant was a condescending asshole the whole time.
McCartney, on the other hand, did his best at navigating those waters of Beatles, and personal life talks that he’s done for so long, and with so much class. Paul McCartney knows his place in the history books, but still maintains an aura of cool. Plus, the dude did kill it with a cigar box guitar playing with the surviving members of Nirvana.
I think as Paul McCartney gets older, it’s crucial for us to reflect upon his post-Beatles career with different eyes. He’s one of the last living legends of that era still kicking, and doing it well. I’ve grown to love a lot of his solo stuff, and for that, I have to thank the guy who played FartMan.
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Paul's latest album is Egypt Station and is available at Amazon and everywhere else.
Today, I have had a stellar day. Rarely do my days kick major ass, but today, my Vans slip-on connected with just enough of the world’s cheek. So, because of that, I’m in a good mood. Why did I have such a good day?
A. I got tickets for the Misfits in Chicago. I’m a mega fanboy with a Crimson Ghost tattoo as most aging punk rockers do, and I am beyond thrilled to finally scream my lungs out to “Hybrid Moments” up close and personal.
B. I acquired a family heirloom: my grandmother’s 1951 Rockola jukebox that’s been fully restored. It’s as cool as you imagine it is. I lost my grandma to cancer at age 54 in 1996, so seeing the little tags for the songs in her handwriting, and knowing that she picked all of the vinyl blows my mind. Us music geeks love this stuff.
C. Got a new puppy. Her name is Mia Wallace, and she’s cute as fuck.
As for the usual, let’s get into it.
Martha Spencer has a new S/T record dropping. The tracks are backwoods, traditionalist country that you’d expect from a gal that hails from deep in Appalachia. It’s campy and fun, and worth checking out. Spencer has a vibe similar to the Carter Family. I dove into some of her projects, and she’s most definitely a product of a different era. She can play a wide variety of instruments, sing, and probably do 56 other things, too. Give her a spin if you’re looking for some honky tonkin’ tunes that are 100% stuff to get your two-step on, on a funky Friday night.
Wayne Graham has a newish record, Joy out, and it’s got all of the feels. If you’re a Ryan Adams or My Morning Jacket kind of person, this is right up your audio alley. The tunes on Joy feel like they’re from a mid-90’s obscure alt-country act, and that suits me just fine. The world needs more records that don’t feel like they’ve dabbled in a little too much Radiohead but instead stick to a few solid tunes that kick you straight in the ass.
If that description appeals to you, then you’ll eat this up, Joy is a collection of head bobbers that feel like they were the background music in a road movie where some guy screams alone in the rain after his girlfriend betrays him.
In live show news, if you get the chance to catch Social Distortion on this tour – DO IT. The boys are out on the road, and killing cities left and right. My man in New Orleans said they smoked tonight, and last week in Austin, they were relentless. If you’re a deep cut, hardcore Social Distortion geek like I am, you’ll be enthralled. No S/T songs.
Instead of “Ball and Chain” or “Story of My Life,” you’ll get “Don’t Drag Me Down,” “Don’t Take Me For Granted,” “Angel’s Wings,” and are opening with “Reach For The Sky.” If that doesn’t set a tone, what does? Also, they’re playing a few new tunes, and “Born to Kill” is a smoker that rivals anything off “White Heat”, which is easily their heaviest record.
Tom Waits has a new song. It sounds like Tom Waits. I love it because I love depressing music.
It’s time for The Rodeo, and as Marc Maron would say, “LOCK THE GATES!”
I was drinking in one of my favorite watering holes down here in lovely, Austin, The Crow Bar when I heard these dudes talking about their band. I had to stick my nose in their business. Forebode is a local outfit that’s a hearty mixture of bands like Iron Monkey, EyeHateGod, and probably a little High on Fire for some added spice.
Give these dudes a listen. They just dropped a demo that’s super raw and gives off an old school black metal vibe with it’s recording quality, but honestly, it makes the approach that much more endearing.
Somehow, in my random internet adventures, I stumbled across Author and Punisher, and my god it. This stuff is HEAVY. If you’ve got a soft spot for mega heavy, machine-driven industrial/one-man metal, give this dude a listen. I stumbled on a video from Noisey that showed how this dude creates his own ways to make sounds meaner and heavier, and down the rabbit hole, I went. Check that video out here, and check out his new song here. If you’re looking for something that sounds like a Terminator battle scene, complete with bodies crawling out of the twisted wreckage, this is most definitely your jam.
Another “holy crap this is heavy” track I managed to discover is Anaal Nathrakh’s "Forward! – I have no idea how to pronounce their name, but this song makes me want to destroy everything. I can’t listen to this song in the car, because honestly if it pumped me up any more, I’d be on the evening news for pulling someone out of their vehicle and pummeling them for no reason other than the riff compelling me. These dudes are everything Fear Factory ever wanted to be around the Demanufacture and Soul of A New Machine era. Not Obsolete, though. That record sucked.
If you’re an Iron Maiden kind of person, I recently found Bruce Dickinson's demo tape that got him the gig. I don’t like Iron Maiden aside from a few tunes when I’m drunk (they’re too happy for me), but this is a neat little nugget I stumbled across.
And now for some stuff that’s not metal or heavy as a fat pair of butt cheeks:
Ole’ WB Walker AKA the dude that should be on Sirius Outlaw Country has some “Well Hell” patches for sale. I bought one and didn’t even try to score one for free because I’m a good friend. If you’re not listening to The Old Soul Radio Show, you’re missing out on the best country/Americana podcast in the game.
If you’re a Spotify user, I just discovered this rad playlist – it’s called Southern Gothic, and it’s got all of the good dark shit that sounds like the scene where the down on his luck boxer drinks his beer alone in a dive and then drives his truck to his empty house. Which is exactly my speed.
Since Paul McCartney has been promoting his new record, and all over every podcast and significant show, I dove down into his catalog, and man, those first two McCartney records SMOKE.
I’m a diehard Beatles fan, and I’ve been on the McCartney solo train as he’s my favorite Beatle, but when you sit down and really give RAM and McCartney a listen, they’re fantastic. That dude recorded both records by himself – every instrument. What he did 47 years ago sounds like the indie stuff a lot of kids are putting out today.
It takes a lot of time, patience, and mistakes to realize who you are as a man. From the way we get knocked down, to what we do next when the dust settles, all of those moments matter, they say something about us, what stock we’re built from.
Throughout Shooter Jennings career, he’s made it a point always to turn left when his peers go right, to duck and dodge, when everyone else is out there trying to sing a little ditty to sell a few Dodges. He’s a man you cannot put a label on, because the minute you try, he’ll outwit you and drop a surprise you never saw coming.
On his latest record, Shooter, Jennings has done it again. He’s made the album no one expected, except this time, some ghosts are lingering of a different variety. Shooter isn’t a record Jennings could have made when I first met him almost ten years ago, instead, that Shooter Jennings was channeling his inner Trent Reznor, he was finding new and beautiful ways to fuck with anyone who thought they knew him.
On Black Ribbons, Shooter Jennings wrote a concept record that has flashes of brilliance that hit harder today than we could have foreseen at the time. The fact that that album lies dormant in a lot of rock and roll minds is a crime, but hopefully, history will be on Jennings side, and he’ll get the credit he deserves.
Following that record, Jennings stayed close to country, writing records like Family Man or The Other Life, which are strong genre records, but they still had a flavor of angst, a shadowy, “can I crank up the gain a little here”, or “can I try this concept on them” there. Straight ahead country records, they were not. While solid, that era of Jennings career wasn’t his most pure; it was a time of growth and personal observation, which in the greater catalog, we can see the direct impact of.
On Shooter though, everything feels different. There’s no way, the guy who wrote Black Ribbons could have sat down and written “Born to Git Down” – Shooter is a portrait into a man who’s come to terms with his abilities, goals, and what he’s after. You can’t write a bunch of feel-good tunes that go hard with the beers, without a sense of purpose, and humility, otherwise, it comes off contrived and douchey, AKA most of the garbage pop country radio pedals.
Collectively, Shooter is Jennings best record. It’s fun, it’s loud, and it’s carefree. There’s elements of boogie-woogie, Motown, pure rock and roll, and a lot of heart. “Do You Love Texas” should be a new Lone Star anthem given it’s unabashed, bold, and in your face, which are all things Texans love. My new hobby is to pull the song up on a TouchTunes jukebox, and then watch people walk up to see the track, and immediately put it on their phones.
“Denim & Diamonds” calls back to Hank Jr’s “Outlaw Woman” a solid beer tune, good for the dark bar, and those drinks you have alone when the day’s been just a little too long for small talk.
I appreciate and applaud Shooter Jennings for reaching inside of himself and owning his legacy and his past. I hope the world around him, and the country radio program managers take a risk and add a few of the tunes off Shooter, if anything, as an effort to save their souls, because Shooter is fun, it’s reckless, and it’s pure country music that is without false pretense. If you can’t kick up your heels to “D.R.U.N.K,” you need to take those boots right off the dance floor, mate.
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Shooter is available everywhere you ingest fine music.
If there’s a band that deserves to finally break through to the next level, it’s Lucero. They’re the humble road dogs who never quit, and continually deliver the goods. And with Among The Ghosts debuting at #2 on the Billboard Independent Albums chart and the band celebrating 20 years of existence, we wanted to take a minute and gush with pride and love for the best dudes from Memphis. It's about damn time for a Grammy nod for these boys.
Considering a few of us (Trailer, Chad, & Robert) have seen the band live more than they can count on two hands, we wanted to put together dream set lists. Just for funsies, because you know, NERD ALERT.
The only rules are: 15 songs and an encore (although Lucero routinely plays 20+ songs per show).
Robert Dean’s dream Lucero set:
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Smoke
Everything Has Changed
Anjalee
I Can Get us Out of Here
Among The Ghosts
Baby Don’t You Want Me
Nights Like These
Drink Till We’re Gone
Sweet Little Thing
Hey Darlin’ Do You Gamble
Texas & Tennessee
On My Way Downtown
For The Lonely Ones
Raisin’ Hell
Hate & Jealousy
Encore:
Tears Don’t Matter Much
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Jeremy
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Can’t You Hear Them Howl
For the Lonely Ones
The Man I Was
To My Dearest Wife
Darby’s Song
Went Looking For Warren Zevon’s Los Angeles
Among the Ghosts
Woke Up In New Orleans
Hey Darlin’ Do You Gamble?
They Called Her Killer
All Sewn Up
Texas & Tennessee
Nights Like These
Goodbye Again
All These Love Songs
Encore:
The Closer You Get (Alabama cover)
Tears Don’t Matter Much
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Trailer
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The Mountain
Among the Ghosts
All These Love Songs
Chain Link Fence
Tonight Ain't Gonna Be Good
My Best Girl
Texas & Tennessee
Sweet Little Thing
That Much Further West
Nights Like These
What Else Would You Have Me Be?
Raising Hell
Noon As Dark As Midnight
It Gets the Worst at Night
Kiss the Bottle
Encore:
Smoke
Sixteen
Tears Don't Matter Much
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Kevin
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Downtown (Intro)
On My Way Downtown
Like Lightning
Last Night in Town
The War
She's Just That Kind of Girl
I Can Get Us Out of Here Tonight
Sweet Little Thing
Darby's Song
Johnny Davis
The Devil and Maggie Chascarillo
Smoke
Can't Feel a Thing
What Are You Willing to Lose?
Sounds of the City
Encore:
The Mountain
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Chad
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For the Lonely Ones
Last Night in Town
Little Silver Heart
To My Dearest Wife
Among the Ghosts
Raising Hell
That Much Further West
Sweet Little Thing
Bottom of the Sea
Sixes & Sevens
All Sewn Up
Texas & Tennessee
Nights Like These
Chain Link Fence
Tears Don't Matter Much
Encore:
San Francisco
Drink Till We're Gone
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Matthew
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Can't You Hear Them Howl
I don't think there would be a better damn way to begin a Lucero show than this opening riff.
Cover Me
Little Silver Heart
Nights Like These
Watch It Burn
What Else Would You Have Me Be?
I feel confident a show that began with these first 6 songs would absolutely create a frenzied-as-hell crowd. And, I am all for it. Let's burn this whole thing down!
Sweet Little Thing
Last Night In Town
This song was played at the first Lucero show (I think) I went to with my Dad and brother back in my home state of TN and it meant a lot at the time to me since I was leaving to come back up to D.C. I wish it was played every single show I attended.
Tears Don't Matter Much
Hate & Jealousy
I haven't seen this song or Sing Me No Hymns live before and I have to believe that these would absolutely be scorchers live.
Sing Me No Hymns
That Much Further West
To My Dearest Wife
On My Way Downtown
Sound Of The City
Encore:
The War->Raising Hell
I know I'm cheating here, but I think this would be a killer way to do an encore. You can't have a Lucero show without The War and Raising Hell is a life affirming way to end my night of Lucero's perfect set list.
Down here in lovely Austin, Texas, it’s hot as hell. It’s so hot that my AC doesn’t feel like it exists. Instead, it feels like someone with an ice cube in their mouth is breathing in your face. It was 104 today.
Yesterday was my 37th birthday. We went to a snake farm. It was pretty great. I’m going to see Ben Nichols tonight. I’m gonna get REALLY drunk.
Robert making Ben Nichols feel some kind of way...
Anyhow,
So, a bunch of rad music has crossed my desk. I’m way late to the party, but Paul Cauthen’s new record, Have Mercy is bangin’. If you’re looking for a Waylon + Cash throwback that feels like evil with a splash of snake handling, you need to give that dude a spin.
The always wonderful Angela Perley and The Howlin’ Moons have some new stuff out. They’ve recently released The Stereogram Sessions, which captures the band in their purest form: live. When you write about music, you’re always reminded that a lot of solid artists aren’t as well know as they deserve. Angela Perley is one of those acts.
And now for something completely different:
If you’re into hardcore, the stuff that’s dropping lately is off the rails. Whatever sea change happened, it’s appreciated because hardcore’s newest evolution is exciting, brutal, and a lot of fun.
SeeYouSpaceCowboy is a perfect example of challenging the norms of the scene and genre can be. While I’m not crazy about the name, the band murders. Playing 2-minute grind songs in the vein of Daughters, The Locust, or Pig Destroyer, SeeYouSpaceCowboy is vicious. The fury they pack into such a short amount of time is impressive and feels vital. If you’re a NAILS kinda person, these kids are in your wheelhouse. Don’t judge them on the name.
Jesus Piece has a new record dropping soon. They’ve been teasing songs on Spotify and YouTube, and my god. Jesus Piece is like a comfortable pair of boots, they play fast, pissed off hardcore that anyone who’s ever given a dime to Scott Vogel can appreciate. The songs are fast, violent, and unrelenting. If you love a good pit band, Jesus Piece delivers.
Sanction is a band that my friend, Brian Martinez of The Classics Pomade is obsessed with. Because we trade music regularly, he’s suggested them to me, no less than three times. If you’re searching for a band in that mid-to-late 90’s style via Trustkill or Solid State, Sanction is worth a listen. There’s no mystery, this is a band to dance and finger point. Meat and potatoes.
That’s all I got. Hope your universe is kicking ass.
After two decades in the game, Lucero has reached one of those critical milestones as a band: people care about their new music.
As many of their peers are relegated to being humored when they play new songs live, Lucero’s fans crave new music, they want the stories singer Ben Nichols crafts from his years on the road, with a heart that’s taken a beating. The darkness of Lucero is what keeps people coming back, and always will.
On their new record, Among The Ghosts, Lucero have tapped into their hard-living past, the present as the perennial road dogs, but also, what Lucero will mean down the line. Considering the guys in the band haven’t had regular jobs since before they could legally buy beer, it’s an interesting pretense for a core that’s never broken up, but also, evolved together as a unit.
A Lucero show isn’t a concert; it’s a drunken hangout. The bar hums with copious amounts of whiskey and the crack of a tallboy. The crowd hollering along is a part of the ritual, a moment with your tribe saying that this room understands you, that this moment, these tattooed jerks can lead you somewhere honest, somewhere that only the baptized understand.
For many of us, we see those songs, those moments of anathema as a reflection of our own mistakes. Ben Nichols managed to take when we feel alone and broken, but shapes his pain into an experience that strangers share, and for many, to the point of tears. Lucero’s darkness, their self-loathing, their regrets, shame, the world pushing against them, against us – was the bond, the communion.
Fans of the band have a preconceived idea of what Lucero is. The thing is that they’re an emotional collective people feel like they have ownership of. It’s a special place to be in hearts when you can fill a room in any corner of America, and a good 50% of those people have your band’s logo tattooed on them. The songs are anthems that timestamp people’s hearts and mean different things do different parts of the country.
For the yankees, Lucero is a band drawn up from the Southern mud, a group that rips apart a room and lets them kick up their heels, hoisting their drinks in hand, shouting along to drinking songs and bummer tunes alike. For the southerners, Lucero is a mixture of country idealism, but with the punk rock ethos so many in the crowd lived through in a pre-internet age, when having tattoos and a Black Flag shirt, but a Hank Williams tape in the car meant something much different than it does today. Lucero even played Alaska, finding a way to give people who are far removed from the continental US something to drink about.
But, then Ben Nichols got happy. He got married, and later he became a dad. Word around the campfire was the band just couldn’t run on the same kind of smoke as it had in its past, for the fans, it was a long sigh of, “well, at least we’ve got the old songs because the new ones are gonna suck.”
We figured we’d lost our hillbilly Tom Waits; Lucero was now going to be another band where we endure the new tunes to get to “Drink Till We’re Gone” or “Tears Don’t Matter Much.”
When Among The Ghosts was announced, it wasn’t a surprise by any means; Lucero is a prolific band that releases records on a fairly regular cadence. It was just that the optimism of possibility wasn’t there, that we were going to get another Women and Work or All A Man Should Do. While both records have a few solid tunes sprinkled throughout, they’re not the powerhouses that make up the band’s back catalog like the perennial favorite, Tennessee, or That Much Further West or even 1372 Overton Park.
Then the songs started leaking out. Lucero flipped the script; they challenged what they’d become over the last few records.
While the Stax-heavy horns were an experiment in identity, Lucero is so much more. Lucero is regret in song form but also knowing what life looks like from a lot of lenses. Among The Ghosts captures that familiar darkness that fans craved so much, it broke our hearts again, this time not because the bar is yelling the last call, but because the reality of life on the road, temptation, and sin are all out there, but Nichols isn’t interested.
Among The Ghosts is a personal dive into what it’s like to leave children behind, as drummer Roy Berry recently became a father, too. Guitarist Brian Venable has a son who recently toured with his dad for the first time. These guys are living their years out on the road while their children grow, while their hometown of Memphis goes on without them.
“For The Lonely Ones” is easily one of the best Lucero songs of all time. It’s better than anything off of the last three records combined. If there was a way to explain what Lucero means, what they feel like, in one moment, the encroaching analog darkness that slithers from the tape and through the vinyl is there, ready to be devoured.
“Cover Me” is a howling madman of a tune that encapsulates a yearning, an animal fire that’s not like any of the previous Lucero anthems. While it’s about Butch Cassidy, it feels much more nefarious, which is a good thing. “Cover Me” feels violent, but without a threat. Title track “Among The Ghosts” doesn’t feel forced. Instead, it’s a promise to Nichols wife and child, explaining his world one tortured vowel at a time.
This is the Lucero record fans have wanted. This is what Lucero is, intrinsically: those guys sweating it out in a room, figuring out the vibe, their history, but also knowing who they are. While some bands get progressively tamer with each release, Lucero are more punk now than ever. They’ve always straddled a line of punk and country as kissing cousins, there’s nothing the band can do that would shock or surprise the faithful. The blood is on the tracks.
Among The Ghosts is the moment that refocuses the dynamic of what Lucero is: While the punk overtones have always been there, “Among The Ghosts” is a statement, that despite what changes in their lives, how they grow, those boys from Memphis with all them tattoos, still have plenty of darkness to mine from.
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Among the Ghosts is available tomorrow everywhere.
At last week’s show at Mohawk, in Austin, Texas, it was probably my 15th time seeing Glassjaw. I’ve been with the band since Everything You Ever Wanted To Know About Silence dropped during my senior year of high school way back when dinosaurs roamed the earth in 2000.
In the time since then, a lot has changed in all of our lives, we’re a little heavier, our hair isn’t as cool, and we get tired faster after a long night. But, at the heart of it, those songs we’ve had for almost two decades endure. Glassjaw has entered that rarefied air of punk/hardcore bands where people love them on the back of their cult classic status. Glassjaw was never an arena act, but it was painfully obvious who the majority of Mohawk was there to see, with no disrespect to Quicksand, whatever.
Pummeling through songs like “Shira,” “Mu Empire,” “Tip Your Bartender” and “Siberian Kiss” Glassjaw’s current incarnation worked through a few early mishaps to deliver the magic we’ve all cherished for so long. It’s an interesting dynamic to hear Glassjaw’s newest rhythm battery work through the catalog, given their pedigree while playing with The Glass Cloud. While earlier it on, it seemed like drummer, Chad Hasty was playing catch up, but ultimately found his center and moved with precision.
But, the one elephant in the room whenever seeing Glassjaw is their insistence on maintaining a sense of musical and personal progression that borders on frustrating. Since their second “official” album Worship and Tribute dropped, Glassjaw has been very reluctant to play anything from the back catalog before it.
Over the years they’ve cited the lyrical content of those songs, and by all means, it’s understandable not to want to belt out lyrics that make anyone feel uncomfortable.
We get it, everyone gets it, saying stuff that’s shitty and sexist isn’t cool, and honestly not what punk or hardcore taught us about values, respect, or life.
But, our 20’s were a long time ago, and Daryl had a pen and a platform before he knew what power he was actually wielding. But, there are a lot of people packing into those rooms who aren’t as lucky as me who got to experience hearing those songs when they were new. Glassjaw’s new record, Material Control was worth the wait. It’s rock solid, and a welcomed piece of the band’s legacy, but in respect to that legacy, and love for their future, the past should be embraced, if anything as a cautionary tale.
I’d argue that if a palatable way to donate to a cause, or make funding a non-profit with donations at the shows, an easier to pill swallow when singing words like “you can lead a whore to water, and you can bet she’ll drink and follow orders.”
Palumbo isn’t Straight Edge any longer, he isn’t preaching between songs, and there are no side project bands that make fans cringe. Instead, he and longtime guitarist and partner Justin Beck seem at ease in their roles as Glassjaw.
One day, I hope they can find a solution that honors the mistakes of the past content but also champions the fact that Everything You Ever Wanted To Know About Silence is a classic. For its ugly intonations and moments of cringe, there are songs many would love to hear for a night. I would gladly donate an extra $10 to a #MeToo propelling cause and hear a speech about fickle youth and the idiocy of men to hear “Ry Ry’s Song” or “Lovebites and Razorblades” live once again.
Editor: I guess this is Glassjaw from that show… weird as hell looking.
Despite my friend’s Doug’s best efforts to give me alcohol poisoning last night at The Scoot Inn, I managed to enjoy a hell of a night thanks to Tyler Childers and his band.
Ripping through tracks off of his debut record, Purgatory, Childers and his band proved why the show was sold out, with folks standing on the outside, trying to grab a ticket to get inside Austin’s hottest (it was 105 last night) gig.
Staring out into the crowd with those low-slung eyes, Childers always appears to be searching for something, calling out to a void that could swallow him whole. Through his prayers to the outer world, the crowd fed off Childers relentless psychic energy and last night, we saw the entertainer people in and out of the country world are falling love with, much like his mentor, Sturgill Simpson.
“Feathered Indians,” “I Swear To God,” and his biggest tune, "White House Road” all made their appearance into the set, while lots of tracks off the Red Barn record popped up in the setlist, too. Not gonna lie, I was waiting for “Nose On The Grindstone” but can’t win em’ all.
From the videos I took, I can double down on my enthusiasm for Purgatory and Tyler’s ability to work a room full of cowboys from outside Austin, and the hipsters in camo shorts and Vans alike. Together with his band, those boys held the place in the palm of their hands, rising and falling with every shouted chorus. While some front men rely on fancy moves or a lot of banter, instead Childers let the songs do the work for him.
Through my adventures of being a drunken mess, I managed to sneak into the green room and talk to Tyler’s band. This the part where I would typically look at my notes and tell you a whole bunch of facts about their time on the road, and their bond as friends. But, thanks to a lot of Jameson, I accidentally deleted my notes last night, because I’m a remarkable journalist.
But, what I do remember is how absolutely sweet those dudes were. What a sincerely, nice, group of humans, especially Tyler’s drummer, Rod Elkins. It was apparent throughout the set that his band, known as The Food Stamps, are a UNIT. They play with precision and execution that is perfection. It made my heart happy to know these were the guys Tyler came up with, the guys from West Virginia he paid his dues with instead of some jobbers from Nashville.
If there’s a night you want at a country show, it’s outdoors on a hot night in Austin, Texas. The weather was perfect, the Lonestars were cold, and we were ready to ride with Tyler Childers and his band. It was exactly what you hope for when you lay the cash down for a show: an experience you’ll be telling folks about for a time to come. We’ll see Tyler Childers grow into the larger venues like Stubbs and ACL soon enough, but for those who were lucky to experience those songs last night, this was one of the nights where we can say, “I saw them way back when.”
Thanks for that, boys. Come back to Austin anytime. This time, I promise I won’t delete my notes while drunk.
Who the hell am I kidding? I totally will. That shit was awesome.
Usual disclaimers: The year-end list will be compiled from all FTM contributors' votes. Also, the second half looks really strong, so expect a lot of shake up to this list.
1. Dallas Moore - Mr. Honky Tonk
2. Ashley McBryde - Girl Going Nowhere
3. Blackberry Smoke - Find a Light
4. Caitlyn Smith - Starfire
5. John Prine - Tree of Forgiveness
6. Brent Cobb - Providence Canyon
7. Neko Case - Hell On
8. Fantastic Negrito - Please Don't Be Dead
9. Kacey Musgraves - Golden Hour
10. Joshua Hedley - Mr. Jukebox
11. Brandi Carlile - By the Way, I Forgive You
12. Buffalo Gospel - At the Last Bell
13. Caleb Caudle - Crushed Coins
14. Pusha T - Daytona
15. Old Crow Medicine Show - Volunteer
16. Sarah Shook & The Disarmers - Years
17. Leon III - s/t
18. First Aid Kid - Ruins
19. Courtney Patton - What It's Like to Fly Alone
20. Buffalo Tom - Quiet and Peace
21. American Aquarium - Things Change
22. Charley Crockett - Lonesome as a Shadow
23. Brothers Osborne - Port Saint Joe
24. Courtney Marie Andrews - May Your Kindness Remain
25. Ghost - Prequelle
And here are Robert Dean's five favorites:
Since we’re ½ through 2018 (weird) – here are the records I’m jamming the hardest and think are this year’s best so far:
Joshua Hedley – Mr. Jukebox
My #1 with a bullet. It would take a miracle to unseat this record.
Sleep – The Sciences
Vein – Errorzone
Charley Crockett – Lonesome As A Shadow At The Gates – To Drink From The Night Itself
Hey Y’all. Here we are, it’s almost the end of June, and I’m still trucking away in the world of freelance. But, at least I’m alive.
In case you missed it, a lot of special people are dying, and it sucks. We’re down an Anthony Bourdain and a Vinnie Paul. Someone had better keep Ozzy, Mike Ness and Danzig locked away in glass cases.
Trailer informed me that, while it seems like I’ve been writing for Farce for like, ever – it’s only been 2.5 years, which is nuts considering the number of articles, reviews, etc. I’ve written. Check out my first ever piece here about Sydney’s We Lost The Sea.
In other news, Vein’s new record Errorzone is the best hardcore record of the year. Seriously. It’s like hearing Converge at their beginning all over again. (I’m old. I was there.)
Speaking of hardcore, here’s a video of a naked dude going HAAM in the pit
If you care about As I Lay Dying, they’re back together. Dude tried to have his wife killed, so there’s that. We all know the obvious answer as to why they got back together: they weren’t exactly killing it without the jailbird. Here’s their conversation about this hot topic.
Cassadee Pope who used to be in Hey Monday, a pop punk band, is now a pop country singer? Whatever the fuck that is. Well, she’s playing Warped Tour. This world makes no sense anymore.
I guess that’s it from the peanut gallery. See y’all soon. Send me money. I’m broke.
