Ten Foot Polecats prove once again that they are fine students of the north Mississippi hill country groove but are far from purists (thank gawd) and have no problem kickin' their blues mule straight in the slats to get him movin' along down the road. That road might be in Mississippi or some yankee hell-hole. It might intersect with trippy psychedelic-influenced side roads and/or Allmanesque back-alleys via country roads. What ever the official blues map says makes no difference. They'll set it on fire and throw it out the damn window.
Jim Chilson is quickly becoming reknowned as thee wicked pissah (in masshole-ese) guitarist in blues today. Y'all can keep yr weedlyweedly Bonawhatevers, Chilson is heavier, slower, and his tone is tougher than Wolf balls in a pepper patch and nine times hotter.
Jay Scheffler's got a Howlin' growl that probably scares small children. It's menacing with no BS. Like his harp playing. His is tasteful (because he understands the harps place in a band) blowing that will cut you to the quick. The highest compliment I can pay drummer Chad Rousseau is that he just might be the new Cedric Burnside. On point, funky, brave, and virtually flawless while still servicing the song and giving it a good whoopin' or caressing as needed.
This is tough, smart, hard and thoughtful blues that gives a big fat finger to anyone who says this sound is gasping. You and I know they just aren't paying attention.
I don't want to get into a song by song run down ('cause
they all boogie) but the track Moonshine And Mud? Man, if you're looking for something that sounds like what you wished ZZ Top still sounded like...here you go, buddy.
Take a full twist to the right and snap the volume knob off.
This little ol' band from Massachusetts is simply savage live. Find them, see them, give them your money. They earn it.
Do That Thing!
No comments:
Post a Comment