Our friends in MUDLOW from Brighton U.K. are back with a hint towards their forthcoming new album Headlights. I've always said the music these guys make is a soundtrack waiting for a film and this haunting track proves it. I can't wait to hear more.
For more info go HERE and HERE and HERE, and of course, HERE.
Showing posts with label mudlow. Show all posts
Showing posts with label mudlow. Show all posts
03 January 2025
MUDLOW - Headlights
21 July 2019
MUDLOW - Lower Than Mud
The Bosses of the Brighton branch of blues recently returned seaside from their mighty new-friend-making jaunt around the countryside with Irish pals The Bonnevilles, following the release of their, ahem, "greatest hits" set, Waiting For The Tide To Rise. I gotta wonder aloud, how the hell could they narrow their best songs down to 12 tracks, let alone the 17 tracks on the digital releases, but perhaps I digress.
Wanting to bring along some fresh music for the tour the lads released a very cool Mudlow four-song EP (I heart EPs! Give me 4-5 solid songs over 8 good ones and 4 meh, but again...I digress) consisting of a new song called Lower Than Mud from the tooth-marked, bourbon shellacked and jazz and grime-besotted carpenter's pencil of the enigmatic Tobias Mudlow. Lower Than Mud is classic Mudlow- nimble, menacing, and subtly rocking hard in a sleek sort of country blues jazzed combo that is only bettered by Tobias' lyrics, and story-telling.
Next up is Crocodile Man, a rare cover and a song by the late folk singer Dave Carter and Mudlow has put their stamp on it. It's a desperate, cimmerian song that Mudlow wraps their coats around and rolls into a shaded cut down by a dark, tempestuous river.
To pound the spile into the metaphorical whiskey barrel we get two live tracks, the impossibly funky So Long Lee from their first album Welcome to Mudlow Country (2004) and Caz from 2017's Crackling EP.
So Long Lee has long been a favorite of mine, and not just because (full disclosure/humblebrag) they let me play maracas on it once, and Caz will send a shiver down your spine. The often angular, sparking and jazzed guitar style of Tobias, his strong, raw Waitsian vocals and the characters it portrays, in combo with Paul Pascoe's solid, thoughtful bass playing and drummer Matt Latcham's understated batterie provide a solid yet mutable stage for Tobias's words and guitar to dance over and with, authoring a style unlike that of any other band in the alt-whatever you want to call it scene. They do their thing and refine it, then drag it thru the dirt. Again. Definitely one of the most interesting and original bands around in any genre, and one that rewards with repeated listenings.
I'm told that this EP will have a short life. Physical copies are limited to fifty and those are close to gone. Once that happens, this set of songs will disappear. You've been warned.
15 September 2017
MUDLOW :: Crackling - EP - 2017
BUY via Bandcamp // Soundcloud // FB // YT //
The sky's ablaze over Brighton. Heat lightening, knocking the city aglow. A Morphine hum fills the cracks in the sidewalk. The fox at Palace Pier is prowling low, now slipping through fence posts and backyards howling...hearing the music...which way is home?
Brighton, England's Mudlow have a new ep out called Crackling. The last in a series of three EPs and following the Letter To Louise and Minnesota EPs.
I've really dug these collections. They're the perfect length, because Mudlow songs tend to be somewhat cinematic, in depth, vibe, and sonics. Just four songs. Three musicians. You have plenty of time to invest in them at that length. To really listen. Which means there's no room for filler. I'd be happy if they kept on doing EPs. In fact I'd dig it if more bands went this route.
Who has time for seventy-five minutes of music? Do four songs, upload 'em everywhere. Put them out on a thick ten-inch record. A souvenir. That's what people want. A tangible memory of the affair. But I digress about this. Again.
Ok.
Here's the spiel:
Crackling is a set of four new Mudlow scenes or vignettes as song. I say it every time, Mudlow makes soundtracks waiting for a movie. But here's the thing about this band: They're not a casual listen. I think you kinda gotta get proper old school and actually sit down and listen to the band thru speakers, not ear buds (though that's fine, too) I think you gotta spend some time with them. A glass of whiskey wouldn't hurt (unless it does) and just get lost.
On Crackling, you will take a trip to Mudlow Country. Mudlow consistently do their Mudlow thing. Much like Morphine, Echo & The Bunnymen or Richard Hawley or Waits do theirs. I'm not suggesting Mudlow sound like either...and yet... but rather they are their own thing. They are in the alt-rock-blues-country whatever world, but not of it. This isn't some brit-based Americana wanna-be, either. I may claim Mudlow are their own genre, they're their own thing, yet they are deeply familiar...U.S blues-based rockishness, but with a U.K. pulp novel noir vibe...not quite country, blues, jazz, rock, yet all of these. At once. When it's raining. Downtown. Gritty, rural, yet elegant. Especially when you include their whole catalog, the early work with tough and sometimes haunted Morphine-like saxophone and horn sections.
Mudlow is a terrific (in the true sense of the word) and unique band and they have done their best work here. It's a distillation of the Mudlow sound, poured four fingers deep over three ice cubes on 2017's Crackling.
Tobias Mudlow sings like a cracked bell, like a cantor, like a morning call to drink. His guitar soars and explores, swingin' like a funky, bluesy Willie Nelson, with jazz-like chord choices that spiral, kick, and lean backwards, way back, back into time...Tobias lets loose a howlin' whisper...stopping time...taking you to a noir elsewhere, a behatted slanted rain swept sidewalk in shimmering black and white, the golden road stripes glowing in the nickel-plated neon moonlight outside a James Lee Burke southern Louisiana swamp bar, some place you ought'n not be.Let's talk about Mudlow's stylish bassist/ engineer/ producer Paul Pascoe. I can't imagine anyone else recording this band. He's recorded them from the start with Welcome To Mudlow Country to the new Crackling. Pascoe's recordings have always been very tasteful, allowing everything to breath, and giving the band the noir filmic sound it's big salacious heart desires. No instrument overpowers the other. Each is just as important as the other. Like a fist. Like prayer hands. Like the tabletop knife game.
Drummer Matt Latcham is both the knife and the fingers in this equation, stabbing, swinging, but keeping a hand on the table. They're a band that has played together so long they finish each other's musical sentences, each note placed where it should be...on the spot.
The low down::--->1. Crackling - Car wheels on a rotten paved and gravel road turn with a screech of tire on asphalt headed to anywhere but here. Storm clouds forming, windows down...night is coming on.
2. Bad Hand - A classic english blues, but you wouldn't know it. #Swingit!
3. Caz - Harrowing blues.
4. Red Ribbon - Classic old timey story of trouble, po-lice, and colored lights.
Lyrics for each song on Crackling, provided by Tobias Mudlow, are below:
Crackling: You said you were going to leave, you never got that far, somewhone's going to pay for the damage to my car. When you quit your crying , fetch your things from the yard, that's a heavy horizon, it's a gathering of clouds. You could take another step a little closer to the fire. The skylines alive, with javelins of light, like filaments under glass as they crackle and die, There's clean sheets on the bed, I'll sleep down the hall, some money on the night stand, you could leave after the storm. Or you could take another step a little closer to the fire.
Bad Hand: No warm welcome waiting when your women gets home,X2. Just another old mare, slipping through the fence post, just another old mare. She can't stand me no more. You ought to not let her ride another mans mule,X2. She'll leave you sad and lonely, like a hair lip fool, leave you sad and low. She can't stand me no more. My reason for breathing is leaving on this evenings train,X2. She took off with my best friend, now I see my kids on the weekends, she took off with my best friend. She can't stand me no more. I wound up in an alley on a pallet in the pouring rain,X2. Curled up like a bill fold, I laid my bad hand down, curled up like a bill fold. She can't stand me no more.
Caz: Your momma's calling you Caroline, you been out till 3am, you got boys in the back of your daddy's car, your gonna wake the dog in your back yard. Caroline where the hell have you
Been? Long blond hair and an overcoat, drinking wine and getting loaded, they say some swallows never land? Pop the cap throw back your head. Caroline where the hell have you been? Poor old absent minded Si, they shaved his head when he lost his mind, like the day old J.P. Jumped the river, he got high too fast and fell to quickly. Caroline where the hell have you been???
Red Ribbon: I dropped a little red ribbon down by the roadside, I let diesel soak up in the sand, an old fella over by the gas pump, with a loaded forty five, nickel and pearl grip curled up in his hand, stone cold and a straight back in the sunshine, I feel like the whole world turned numb, my belly sticking to my shirt tails, a cold sweat on my brow, I got a little taste of copper on my tongue. God damn you God Damn why you got to do things that way? I got up this morning , so much trouble now I should have just stayed where I lay. Now I can see the red lights on the hill top, I can see the blue lights on the ridge, somebody must have heard the gunshot, they phoned the police, I guess they told them what I did, Can you hear them banging on my front door, now they're running around the back, somebody's blowing on the bullhorn, telling me to get down, on my knees hands on my head. God damn God damn why you got to do things that way, I woke up this morning, so much trouble now, I think I'll just stay where I lay.....
Here's a special NSK Remix of the track Crackling, along with a remixed instrumental version. Finally, the music of Mudlow has been orchestraed, while keeping and deeping their Mudlowness. They are amazing, powerful, beautiful pieces.
08 July 2016
MUDLOW - Letter To Louise ep
fb // web // bandcamp // yt // noisetrade // spotify/ cdbaby
Mudlow's new ep Letter To Louise continues their exploration of swampy, over the ocean, but regionless dark lit blues.
The second of what is to be a trilogy of eps, to be combined with bonus tracks into an album, Mudlow break no new ground here, and that's good (though the recording by bassist Paul Pascoe is even better than ever) rather they stick to their minacious, foggy wet port street, rock/ blues / jazz/ soundtrack thing they do so well.
From the threat of storm gorgeous bleary and near-sighted cover photograph by Casey Weber (shot at the same spot as the last ep, Minnesota Snow, released in 2015) to the swamped-out dark noir Brit themes of lost and broken brick hard men and clinker-sharp women, the scene: a dark paneled honky-tonk...broken glass...nicotine fingers...and good, good whisky. There's a deeper sensuousness to these new recordings, the performances not just great, but now impressive.
Lyrically detailed, Tobias' singing has become more...refined...agile, yet still with a timbre like a well-dressed old man with a mouth full of cigar. His guitar skills have grown dramatically since the band discontinued using a sax player, his playing even more jazz-tinged than previous, in the way that Nick Cave or Jeffrey Lee Pierce could be jazz-tinged, his writing never stronger. Always a literature guy, Tobias tells earthy short stories, rooted in trouble, populated by characters, and those characters have never been never more alive in their troubles than on Letter To Louise.
Here's the run-down:
Track one is Letter To Louise, a reminder of all that Mudlow is about. Mid-tempo groovy, menacingly sexy bass groove, electric guitar picked with danger, south-east Tejas lounge drums...the whole thing would not sound out of place in a Tarrantino film. It is lyrically, I'm told, a re-investigation or re-working of a track called Horse Nails that Mudlow's singer/ guitarist/songwriter Tobias, did with guitarist Jon Wood several years ago. But where Horse Nails is folky, plucked, and insistent, yet imbued with the usual blue Mudlow desperate menace, Letter To Louise is slower, groovier, creepier. Mudlow is on point as always as they drag Letter To Louise out the gate of Dr. John's backyard, and down to the old paved road into the gloaming. You know by seven-seconds into the song that nothing good can come of this story, somebody's gonna end up hurt.
Track two is Mad Mary Lou, a next-gen north Mississippi/Memphis mid-tempo Brighton blues boogie about yr local gal, and a party in the woods, and running out of roses at the cemetery. That's a scene that does not bode well, and it becomes clear by the first hook that all this scene lacks is a horn section, and a bonfire. #spodee #Stilettointhemud #Canofmace
Number three is Good Whiskey, and it's the band's most atmospherically lovely and epicly understated, which says a lot for a band that excels at atmosphere and understatement. Good Whiskey is a deftly finger-picked, sea-side town folk-blues that tastefully shows off just how fine a guitarist Tobias really is, as well as his lyrical depth, and ability to weave a short story within the constrictions of the song form. That he has a terrific (in the true sense of the word) band that can match him step for step through the moods he sets is a bonus. Mudlow make's each vignette striking, like a well-worn, hand decorated, old-fashioned Par Avion envelope, the address nearly invisible now, one word barely there, well-read and folded...Waits.
Engineer/producer,bassist Paul Pascoe' production keeps your ears leaning in, his fine, subtle taste in textures, and his sensitivity to moods supports the simple instrumentation, his bass work holding it down, but walking just right, with a lean.
Drummer Matt Latcham...rock solid and spot on, his playing tasteful yet primal, swinging like dancers in the dirt. Latcham's always played with a certain ease and loose change in the pocket, and that's what you want for a band like Mudlow. Sonic bonus points to producer Pascoe for the recording of Latcham's trap set, btw.
Mudlow play the soundtrack to the dark worries...
when you can't sleep at night!
There's trouble everyday!
The dread of a flat tire
on a country two-lane road
at ten o'clock at night,
where you can still be seen.
Somebody's at the back door,
there's a lady at the bar you used to know, and she's strapped,
...and a jukebox plays a Mudlow album.
23 December 2014
MUDLOW - The MiNNESOTA SNOW ep
webs // twit // fb // itunes // bandcamp // reverbnation // soundcloud // youtubes
Mudlow believes in the darkness, the nightshade of black and blues at twilight, and the tension of breath in the space between.
They know the mystery of a song's mood brings about a sense of place. The song Minnesota Snow is such a song. You can feel the threat. The menace of blizzard winds. A blizzard of snow, or a tempest of violence? Or both. You're the witness.
"Let out some air from the tires, rock it back and forth, Needles on empty, heater's on full."
That's a place nobody wants to be in, on-the-verge of lost desperation. All you can do is hope and pray you didn't really fuck it all up this time. It's an apt M.O. for most Mudlow songs. The world is gone shit side up y'all, but it ain't gonna always be that way baby, and it ain't ever gonna be without the boogie. It's nothing without that Mudlow style.
Let's take it down to Stubb's Yard.
This is where Mudlow drives us through their North Mississippi, their Texas, their Detroit demolition. This is high steppin', steel-toe sliding, finger tracing, hand clappin', face-slappin' downtown rock city boogie music. At 2:28 it's the shortest song of the three, but that's all it needs.
The third joint of this set is Codename Toad.
Something untoward is going on but hell, nothing's illegal until you get caught, right? It's a dirty rockin' thing having something to do with guns (a walnut grip Baretta by name) a mohair suit, a clear pint, plenty of cocaine, some weed and a shootout. It sounds like a breakneck, backroad trip from Peacehaven to Small Dole, down Devil's Dyke Road, to Shoreham and Saltdean. Listening to side one of ZZ Top's Tejas loud on repeat, taking that last midnight run...praying...Mr. State Trooper...
It's a perfect example of a Mudlow song that could be the basis for a movie. Each song acts as a vignette of British crime, grime, and time. It's the Brighton breakdown of AC/DC'd dirty soul blues, hard loaded swagger, and a lot of whiskey, cigarettes and well-thumbed paperbacks.
It's only been two years since Mudlow released their second album, Sawyer's Hope, but for some reason it seems longer to me. With each release, I get sucked into this Mudlow soundtrack for awhile, where the streets are usually wet and shining with street-lamp glare, everybody has a hard noir story, and the music is polished, flat black and chrome.
This three song set is saxophone-free (a real switch for the band, which utilised the sax as a tone-setter) but does feature cello on the title track. Mudlow bassist and recording engineer Paul Pascoe's already quality sonics have been refined in those two years, and the sense of space, groove, and breath, always a Mudlow hallmark, is accentuated to the point that on headphones you'll think you're in the room. Pascoe's sense of tension and drama is put to use by Tobias Mudlow's funky, funky, country jazz punk city blues guitar, its strong, inventive plucking, crossed with a fine sense of mood really plays a great part in setting the band's sound apart. It's something that was there, but not apparent when the sax was used, often as a co-lead instrument. Matt Latcham is Mudlow's drummer. Solid, creative, and holding up the bottom while dancing across his drums with one hand in the pocket, the other on the gas. His funky foot locks in tight with the bass and guitar, and is crucial to the noir soundtrack feel of the Mudlow sound. Precise, economical, country yet funky.
The Minnesota Snow ep is another exceptional release by a great band. It shows continued growth of depth, sonically, instrumentally, and lyrically. I wouldn't be the least bit surprised if I'm reading a collection of short stories by Tobias Mudlow at some point in the future. Whatever happens, this band will continue to evolve. It's personal blues-infected music with emotional heft, and a strong artistic vision.
It's the music from the closing credits of your favorite movie. It's the song you listen to as you drive off the dock at the end of the chase scene, it's the song that plays as the sun rises over the weed-choked city cemetery, it's the sound you hear as you run through the concrete jungle of southern (UK) bars and clip-joints. Welcome back to Mudlow country. We've missed you.
I understand this is to be the first in a series of digital releases, on the road to vinyl. I can't wait.
LiSTEN::
 |
| Cover photo by the great Casey Weber |
They know the mystery of a song's mood brings about a sense of place. The song Minnesota Snow is such a song. You can feel the threat. The menace of blizzard winds. A blizzard of snow, or a tempest of violence? Or both. You're the witness.
"Let out some air from the tires, rock it back and forth, Needles on empty, heater's on full."
That's a place nobody wants to be in, on-the-verge of lost desperation. All you can do is hope and pray you didn't really fuck it all up this time. It's an apt M.O. for most Mudlow songs. The world is gone shit side up y'all, but it ain't gonna always be that way baby, and it ain't ever gonna be without the boogie. It's nothing without that Mudlow style.
Let's take it down to Stubb's Yard.
This is where Mudlow drives us through their North Mississippi, their Texas, their Detroit demolition. This is high steppin', steel-toe sliding, finger tracing, hand clappin', face-slappin' downtown rock city boogie music. At 2:28 it's the shortest song of the three, but that's all it needs.
The third joint of this set is Codename Toad.
Something untoward is going on but hell, nothing's illegal until you get caught, right? It's a dirty rockin' thing having something to do with guns (a walnut grip Baretta by name) a mohair suit, a clear pint, plenty of cocaine, some weed and a shootout. It sounds like a breakneck, backroad trip from Peacehaven to Small Dole, down Devil's Dyke Road, to Shoreham and Saltdean. Listening to side one of ZZ Top's Tejas loud on repeat, taking that last midnight run...praying...Mr. State Trooper...
It's a perfect example of a Mudlow song that could be the basis for a movie. Each song acts as a vignette of British crime, grime, and time. It's the Brighton breakdown of AC/DC'd dirty soul blues, hard loaded swagger, and a lot of whiskey, cigarettes and well-thumbed paperbacks.
It's only been two years since Mudlow released their second album, Sawyer's Hope, but for some reason it seems longer to me. With each release, I get sucked into this Mudlow soundtrack for awhile, where the streets are usually wet and shining with street-lamp glare, everybody has a hard noir story, and the music is polished, flat black and chrome.
This three song set is saxophone-free (a real switch for the band, which utilised the sax as a tone-setter) but does feature cello on the title track. Mudlow bassist and recording engineer Paul Pascoe's already quality sonics have been refined in those two years, and the sense of space, groove, and breath, always a Mudlow hallmark, is accentuated to the point that on headphones you'll think you're in the room. Pascoe's sense of tension and drama is put to use by Tobias Mudlow's funky, funky, country jazz punk city blues guitar, its strong, inventive plucking, crossed with a fine sense of mood really plays a great part in setting the band's sound apart. It's something that was there, but not apparent when the sax was used, often as a co-lead instrument. Matt Latcham is Mudlow's drummer. Solid, creative, and holding up the bottom while dancing across his drums with one hand in the pocket, the other on the gas. His funky foot locks in tight with the bass and guitar, and is crucial to the noir soundtrack feel of the Mudlow sound. Precise, economical, country yet funky.
It's the music from the closing credits of your favorite movie. It's the song you listen to as you drive off the dock at the end of the chase scene, it's the song that plays as the sun rises over the weed-choked city cemetery, it's the sound you hear as you run through the concrete jungle of southern (UK) bars and clip-joints. Welcome back to Mudlow country. We've missed you.
I understand this is to be the first in a series of digital releases, on the road to vinyl. I can't wait.
LiSTEN::
MUDLOW - The MiNNESOTA SNOW ep
webs // twit // fb // itunes // bandcamp // reverbnation // soundcloud // youtubes
Mudlow believes in the darkness, the nightshade of black and blues at twilight, and the tension of breath in the space between.
They know the mystery of a song's mood brings about a sense of place. The song Minnesota Snow is such a song. You can feel the threat. The menace of blizzard winds. A blizzard of snow, or a tempest of violence? Or both. You're the witness.
"Let out some air from the tires, rock it back and forth, Needles on empty, heater's on full."
That's a place nobody wants to be in, on-the-verge of lost desperation. All you can do is hope and pray you didn't really fuck it all up this time. It's an apt M.O. for most Mudlow songs. The world is gone shit side up y'all, but it ain't gonna always be that way baby, and it ain't ever gonna be without the boogie. It's nothing without that Mudlow style.
Let's take it down to Stubb's Yard.
This is where Mudlow drives us through their North Mississippi, their Texas, their Detroit demolition. This is high steppin', steel-toe sliding, finger tracing, hand clappin', face-slappin' downtown rock city boogie music. At 2:28 it's the shortest song of the three, but that's all it needs.
The third joint of this set is Codename Toad.
Something untoward is going on but hell, nothing's illegal until you get caught, right? It's a dirty rockin' thing having something to do with guns (a walnut grip Baretta by name) a mohair suit, a clear pint, plenty of cocaine, some weed and a shootout. It sounds like a breakneck, backroad trip from Peacehaven to Small Dole, down Devil's Dyke Road, to Shoreham and Saltdean. Listening to side one of ZZ Top's Tejas loud on repeat, taking that last midnight run...praying...Mr. State Trooper...
It's a perfect example of a Mudlow song that could be the basis for a movie. Each song acts as a vignette of British crime, grime, and time. It's the Brighton breakdown of AC/DC'd dirty soul blues, hard loaded swagger, and a lot of whiskey, cigarettes and well-thumbed paperbacks.
It's only been two years since Mudlow released their second album, Sawyer's Hope, but for some reason it seems longer to me. With each release, I get sucked into this Mudlow soundtrack for awhile, where the streets are usually wet and shining with street-lamp glare, everybody has a hard noir story, and the music is polished, flat black and chrome.
This three song set is saxophone-free (a real switch for the band, which utilised the sax as a tone-setter) but does feature cello on the title track. Mudlow bassist and recording engineer Paul Pascoe's already quality sonics have been refined in those two years, and the sense of space, groove, and breath, always a Mudlow hallmark, is accentuated to the point that on headphones you'll think you're in the room. Pascoe's sense of tension and drama is put to use by Tobias Mudlow's funky, funky, country jazz punk city blues guitar, its strong, inventive plucking, crossed with a fine sense of mood really plays a great part in setting the band's sound apart. It's something that was there, but not apparent when the sax was used, often as a co-lead instrument. Matt Latcham is Mudlow's drummer. Solid, creative, and holding up the bottom while dancing across his drums with one hand in the pocket, the other on the gas. His funky foot locks in tight with the bass and guitar, and is crucial to the noir soundtrack feel of the Mudlow sound. Precise, economical, country yet funky.
The Minnesota Snow ep is another exceptional release by a great band. It shows continued growth of depth, sonically, instrumentally, and lyrically. I wouldn't be the least bit surprised if I'm reading a collection of short stories by Tobias Mudlow at some point in the future. Whatever happens, this band will continue to evolve. It's personal blues-infected music with emotional heft, and a strong artistic vision.
It's the music from the closing credits of your favorite movie. It's the song you listen to as you drive off the dock at the end of the chase scene, it's the song that plays as the sun rises over the weed-choked city cemetery, it's the sound you hear as you run through the concrete jungle of southern (UK) bars and clip-joints. Welcome back to Mudlow country. We've missed you.
I understand this is to be the first in a series of digital releases, on the road to vinyl. I can't wait.
LiSTEN::
|
| Cover photo by the great Casey Weber |
They know the mystery of a song's mood brings about a sense of place. The song Minnesota Snow is such a song. You can feel the threat. The menace of blizzard winds. A blizzard of snow, or a tempest of violence? Or both. You're the witness.
"Let out some air from the tires, rock it back and forth, Needles on empty, heater's on full."
That's a place nobody wants to be in, on-the-verge of lost desperation. All you can do is hope and pray you didn't really fuck it all up this time. It's an apt M.O. for most Mudlow songs. The world is gone shit side up y'all, but it ain't gonna always be that way baby, and it ain't ever gonna be without the boogie. It's nothing without that Mudlow style.
Let's take it down to Stubb's Yard.
This is where Mudlow drives us through their North Mississippi, their Texas, their Detroit demolition. This is high steppin', steel-toe sliding, finger tracing, hand clappin', face-slappin' downtown rock city boogie music. At 2:28 it's the shortest song of the three, but that's all it needs.
The third joint of this set is Codename Toad.
Something untoward is going on but hell, nothing's illegal until you get caught, right? It's a dirty rockin' thing having something to do with guns (a walnut grip Baretta by name) a mohair suit, a clear pint, plenty of cocaine, some weed and a shootout. It sounds like a breakneck, backroad trip from Peacehaven to Small Dole, down Devil's Dyke Road, to Shoreham and Saltdean. Listening to side one of ZZ Top's Tejas loud on repeat, taking that last midnight run...praying...Mr. State Trooper...
It's a perfect example of a Mudlow song that could be the basis for a movie. Each song acts as a vignette of British crime, grime, and time. It's the Brighton breakdown of AC/DC'd dirty soul blues, hard loaded swagger, and a lot of whiskey, cigarettes and well-thumbed paperbacks.
It's only been two years since Mudlow released their second album, Sawyer's Hope, but for some reason it seems longer to me. With each release, I get sucked into this Mudlow soundtrack for awhile, where the streets are usually wet and shining with street-lamp glare, everybody has a hard noir story, and the music is polished, flat black and chrome.
This three song set is saxophone-free (a real switch for the band, which utilised the sax as a tone-setter) but does feature cello on the title track. Mudlow bassist and recording engineer Paul Pascoe's already quality sonics have been refined in those two years, and the sense of space, groove, and breath, always a Mudlow hallmark, is accentuated to the point that on headphones you'll think you're in the room. Pascoe's sense of tension and drama is put to use by Tobias Mudlow's funky, funky, country jazz punk city blues guitar, its strong, inventive plucking, crossed with a fine sense of mood really plays a great part in setting the band's sound apart. It's something that was there, but not apparent when the sax was used, often as a co-lead instrument. Matt Latcham is Mudlow's drummer. Solid, creative, and holding up the bottom while dancing across his drums with one hand in the pocket, the other on the gas. His funky foot locks in tight with the bass and guitar, and is crucial to the noir soundtrack feel of the Mudlow sound. Precise, economical, country yet funky.
It's the music from the closing credits of your favorite movie. It's the song you listen to as you drive off the dock at the end of the chase scene, it's the song that plays as the sun rises over the weed-choked city cemetery, it's the sound you hear as you run through the concrete jungle of southern (UK) bars and clip-joints. Welcome back to Mudlow country. We've missed you.
I understand this is to be the first in a series of digital releases, on the road to vinyl. I can't wait.
LiSTEN::
12 April 2014
MUDLOW: LiVE at BiG Vs in Saint Paul MN 07.21.08 (originally posted 08/04/08)
pinhole pic of Mudlow shot by nhungsta!
Brighton UKs Mudlow played a post-DBF gig at Big Vs in Saint Paul MN on the monday following the fest. Sadly their sax man Trimble was under the weather but I filled in on Maraccas and Honkeyfinger hit the harp on a couple songs. They played a bunch of new material including a sweet cover of The Scud Mountain Boys song Silo (which has always been a fave of mine so I was shocked and thrilled to hear them do it.)
The material shows growth while still retaining their very Mudlow-ness that I know and love. My Norwegian journalist friend Oyvind Pharo had spoken with them earlier and had been told that they like to consider their music the soundtrack to an unmade film. Well said.
I shot the show with my handy Casio Exilm. It was pretty dark on stage but the sound is good. Mudlow seems to have the ol' Prophet not Welcome at Home problem in the UK so please spread the word about them so we can get them back to the U.S. asap where they garnered a slew of new fans at The Deep Blues Festival.
Update: Sadly I managed to drown that trusty Casio in the ocean, trying to get wave shots. I did but i'll never see them. Great camera, tho.
MUDLOW- Dust from ricksaunders on Vimeo.
MUDLOW - Fetlock from ricksaunders on Vimeo.
MUDLOW - So Long Lee from ricksaunders on Vimeo.
MUDLOW - Silo from ricksaunders on Vimeo.
MUDLOW - Drunken Turkey from ricksaunders on Vimeo.
MUDLOW - Zac from ricksaunders on Vimeo.
MUDLOW - Catalina from ricksaunders on Vimeo.
MUDLOW - Down In The Snow from ricksaunders on Vimeo.
BONUS!
Here's a couple sooper rare Mudlow mp3s
for being such good little monkeys:
Jester MP3
Ain't No Pleasing You
Brighton UKs Mudlow played a post-DBF gig at Big Vs in Saint Paul MN on the monday following the fest. Sadly their sax man Trimble was under the weather but I filled in on Maraccas and Honkeyfinger hit the harp on a couple songs. They played a bunch of new material including a sweet cover of The Scud Mountain Boys song Silo (which has always been a fave of mine so I was shocked and thrilled to hear them do it.)
The material shows growth while still retaining their very Mudlow-ness that I know and love. My Norwegian journalist friend Oyvind Pharo had spoken with them earlier and had been told that they like to consider their music the soundtrack to an unmade film. Well said.
I shot the show with my handy Casio Exilm. It was pretty dark on stage but the sound is good. Mudlow seems to have the ol' Prophet not Welcome at Home problem in the UK so please spread the word about them so we can get them back to the U.S. asap where they garnered a slew of new fans at The Deep Blues Festival.
Update: Sadly I managed to drown that trusty Casio in the ocean, trying to get wave shots. I did but i'll never see them. Great camera, tho.
MUDLOW- Dust from ricksaunders on Vimeo.
MUDLOW - Fetlock from ricksaunders on Vimeo.
MUDLOW - So Long Lee from ricksaunders on Vimeo.
MUDLOW - Silo from ricksaunders on Vimeo.
MUDLOW - Drunken Turkey from ricksaunders on Vimeo.
MUDLOW - Zac from ricksaunders on Vimeo.
MUDLOW - Catalina from ricksaunders on Vimeo.
MUDLOW - Down In The Snow from ricksaunders on Vimeo.
BONUS!
Here's a couple sooper rare Mudlow mp3s
for being such good little monkeys:
Jester MP3
Ain't No Pleasing You
24 October 2012
MUDLOW - SAWYERS HOPE
@ Facebook // OnLine // Motor Sounds Records // iTunes //
My new favorite album comes from one of my favourite bands in the universe. Mudlow, from the English seaside city of Brighton, asked me to write the liner notes for Sawyer's Hope and I was honored to do so. My notes are below followed by a song by song interpretation.
Thomas Wolfe wrote that “...our lives are haunted by a Georgia slattern, because a London cut-purse went unhung.” If that sliver of catholic prose had a soundtrack it would be played by Brighton UK’s Mudlow.
Mudlow plays literate southern music without continent, drifting and fraught with terroir. It is at once humid, torrid, and familiar; a wholly indecent sound. It’s the grist, gristle and grit of the hard luck life. Noir skies meet muddy boots. The old trouble.
Tobias plays guitar, howls and sings, winks like Popeye and writes songs. The stalwart Matt Latcham plays drums, craftsman Paul Pascoe plays bass and records the music. Sullen sweetheartist Paul Trimble blows the saxophone.
Named for a particular island off the western edge of downtown South Purgatory, sitting hard by a slow-burning swamp just down the road from the old General Tire factory (long abandoned). Port-side stands a tough and brazen little burlesque bar, lit like a set from Twin Peaks. It’s there, downstairs, framed by smoke-rimed red velvet curtains that Mudlow swing their craft.
They play cool, cruel and criminal, lounged and louched versions of Frank’s Wild Years at The Stooges Funhouse for love-worn ghosts, sinewy butchers and Gutter Twins, as a sway-backed barmaid, mouth full of gold and skin scented of hyssop, serves marked cards and moonshine to lost North Sea sailors, southern kings, and their curs.
Their music is the soundtrack for a film as yet unimagined, the saxophoned theme to a tempest-tossed and dreamless sleep. Night hues meet dawn of day in salt air and sea light. A morphine blues follows a sloe gin waltz.
1
Taut, violet-tinged boozy fanfares mingle with mad juke joint hoe-downs. Foghorned and rainsoaked Waitsian tinklers hear the music the dust makes on the soles of shoes at the bottom of a lurched and half-hidden staircase. Run until you fall.
2
A Brighton-By-The Mississippi boogie shakes it down till it stays down.
A leaf-sprung and primered F150 on a rainslick Hove country road.
Lights out. Listening. No second chances.
3
Your last call after last call. A lonely saxophone cries from an empty bridge. Jake-legged and sodden, one arm around your new true-love’s waist. You got some fight left in you yet. Roll ‘em!
4
Ghosts shine darkly with your energy. Faded howls and ringing bells.
The chrome groove digs underground. Cave-like.
5
Troubles are trawling for good times.
They’ll find them alright.
Down by the boathouse.
6
Zane Merite. Queen of something, somewhere south of south Louisiana. Or Borneo. Rusted-through boats and bodies, hot tropical rain wails in the blood-colored night sky.
7
A slow ballroom blues dance spin,
toe properly turned out.
8
Hooker’s heat and boogie,
the tight Memphis night air.
Don’t get too close to the water.
9
Soil. It’ll hold it.
10
Sitting under the power-line giants above the Snake River canyon at full-moon midnight. The air fairly crackles. The dirt lit shades of white and black. Below, along the riverbank, the primal shadows of bodies lit by bonfire sway low to the echo of deep, dank grooves. Sparks fly, only to be carried by the cool wind as it slips behind the moon which moves its way down the deep, sensual and ancient valley.
Somewhere a back-door slams, unknown voices cross. Blue/white light hypnotizes down the highway. Footsteps scuffle in the raw heat. Love spelled wrong, backwards and reborn.
Voluminous Thank-Yous! go to April Fecca, boss/editor for NowThisSound, for being a rubber wall to bounce sentences off, without whom this post wouldn't have been worth a tinker's damn.
1
Taut, violet-tinged boozy fanfares mingle with mad juke joint hoe-downs. Foghorned and rainsoaked Waitsian tinklers hear the music the dust makes on the soles of shoes at the bottom of a lurched and half-hidden staircase. Run until you fall.
2
A Brighton-By-The Mississippi boogie shakes it down till it stays down.
A leaf-sprung and primered F150 on a rainslick Hove country road.
Lights out. Listening. No second chances.
3
Your last call after last call. A lonely saxophone cries from an empty bridge. Jake-legged and sodden, one arm around your new true-love’s waist. You got some fight left in you yet. Roll ‘em!
4
Ghosts shine darkly with your energy. Faded howls and ringing bells.
The chrome groove digs underground. Cave-like.
5
Troubles are trawling for good times.
They’ll find them alright.
Down by the boathouse.
6
Zane Merite. Queen of something, somewhere south of south Louisiana. Or Borneo. Rusted-through boats and bodies, hot tropical rain wails in the blood-colored night sky.
7
A slow ballroom blues dance spin,
toe properly turned out.
8
Hooker’s heat and boogie,
the tight Memphis night air.
Don’t get too close to the water.
9
Soil. It’ll hold it.
10
Sitting under the power-line giants above the Snake River canyon at full-moon midnight. The air fairly crackles. The dirt lit shades of white and black. Below, along the riverbank, the primal shadows of bodies lit by bonfire sway low to the echo of deep, dank grooves. Sparks fly, only to be carried by the cool wind as it slips behind the moon which moves its way down the deep, sensual and ancient valley.
Somewhere a back-door slams, unknown voices cross. Blue/white light hypnotizes down the highway. Footsteps scuffle in the raw heat. Love spelled wrong, backwards and reborn.
Free Album of Mudlow Odd & Ends & Rareities:
Voluminous Thank-Yous! go to April Fecca, boss/editor for NowThisSound, for being a rubber wall to bounce sentences off, without whom this post wouldn't have been worth a tinker's damn.
09 April 2012
23 March 2012
MUDLOW: LiVE at BiG Vs in Saint Paul MN 07.21.08
Mudlow are finishing up a new album to be called Sawyer's Hope.
It's unbelievably freaking great.
Until then, here's some old school Mudlow badness:
pinhole pic of Mudlow shot by nhungsta!
Brighton UKs Mudlow played a post-DBF gig at Big Vs in Saint Paul MN on the monday following the fest. Sadly their sax man Trimble was under the weather but I filled in on Maraccas on So Long Lee and Honkeyfinger hit the harp on a couple songs.
They played a bunch of new material including a sweet cover of The Scud Mountain Boys song Silo which has always been a fave of mine so I was shocked and thrilled to hear them do it. The material shows growth while still retaining the very Mudlow-ness that I know and love.
My Norwegian friend journalist Oyvind Pharo had spoken with them earlier and had been told that they like to consider their music the soundtrack to an unmade film. Well said.
I shot the show with my handy Casio Exilm. It was pretty dark on stage but the sound is good. Mudlow seems to have the ol' Prophet not Welcome at Home problem in the UK so please spread the word about them so we can get them back to the U.S. asap where they garnered a slew of new fans at The Deep Blues Festival.
MUDLOW- Dust from ricksaunders on Vimeo.
MUDLOW - Fetlock from ricksaunders on Vimeo.
MUDLOW - So Long Lee from ricksaunders on Vimeo.
MUDLOW - Silo from ricksaunders on Vimeo.
MUDLOW - Drunken Turkey from ricksaunders on Vimeo.
MUDLOW - Zac from ricksaunders on Vimeo.
MUDLOW - Catalina from ricksaunders on Vimeo.
MUDLOW - Down In The Snow from ricksaunders on Vimeo.
BONUS!
Here's a couple sooper rare Mudlow mp3s
for being such good little monkeys:
Jester MP3
Ain't No Pleasing You MP3
It's unbelievably freaking great.
Until then, here's some old school Mudlow badness:
pinhole pic of Mudlow shot by nhungsta!
Brighton UKs Mudlow played a post-DBF gig at Big Vs in Saint Paul MN on the monday following the fest. Sadly their sax man Trimble was under the weather but I filled in on Maraccas on So Long Lee and Honkeyfinger hit the harp on a couple songs.
They played a bunch of new material including a sweet cover of The Scud Mountain Boys song Silo which has always been a fave of mine so I was shocked and thrilled to hear them do it. The material shows growth while still retaining the very Mudlow-ness that I know and love.
My Norwegian friend journalist Oyvind Pharo had spoken with them earlier and had been told that they like to consider their music the soundtrack to an unmade film. Well said.
I shot the show with my handy Casio Exilm. It was pretty dark on stage but the sound is good. Mudlow seems to have the ol' Prophet not Welcome at Home problem in the UK so please spread the word about them so we can get them back to the U.S. asap where they garnered a slew of new fans at The Deep Blues Festival.
MUDLOW- Dust from ricksaunders on Vimeo.
MUDLOW - Fetlock from ricksaunders on Vimeo.
MUDLOW - So Long Lee from ricksaunders on Vimeo.
MUDLOW - Silo from ricksaunders on Vimeo.
MUDLOW - Drunken Turkey from ricksaunders on Vimeo.
MUDLOW - Zac from ricksaunders on Vimeo.
MUDLOW - Catalina from ricksaunders on Vimeo.
MUDLOW - Down In The Snow from ricksaunders on Vimeo.
BONUS!
Here's a couple sooper rare Mudlow mp3s
for being such good little monkeys:
Jester MP3
Ain't No Pleasing You MP3
14 November 2009
MUDLOW
Just a couple jams from our boys and Brighton's finest aka MUDLOW to get you through the night. From their first collection Mudlow Country:
So Long Lee MP3
Down In The Snow MP3
Filthy new album in the works!
06 August 2009
BLOOD ON THE SCRATCHPLATE '65!
I'm busy writin' and listenin' but will have some some new stabs at slabs to preview soon. Til then check out this re-run of my review of the Motor Sounds Records compilation Blood On The Scratchplate '65!
MOTOR SOUNDS RECORDS ARTiSTS ViDEOS!
This sooper high octane 21 track hunk o'punkass garage blues lo-fi rockness hails from dirty durty Northern Ireland and it kills and kills again. 21 times it kills. I just love a record label that you can trust and so far Motor Sounds Records is just that. Like SST Records in the olden days Andy McGibbon's Motor Sounds knows it's thang and knows it well. Chunky hunks of greasy garage rawk squawk vs sexy Joe Da Grinder D-troit R n' B vs Bargain basement fuzz bomb freakouts. Some of y'all know the garagecentric Nuggets box sets and Children of Nuggets. This is like the unknown reform school delinquent brother of Nuggets who doesn't get to come over much 'cuz he's always kicking the collective asses of the Children of Nuggets. Feels he owes it to 'em. Thinks maybe it'll teach 'em a lesson for being such a precious little prigs. Eleven bands from Ireland, Italy, Belgium, England, Japan and the good ol' USA throwing down the State of the garage rawk Union. You get two likker fueled hump infested tracks from Brighton's Mudlow (who just happen to be one of my fave bands in the whole damned universe and who will be stealing yr girlfriends and smashing yr boyfriends guitar at The Deep Blues Festival (their first U.S. appearence!) this summer), two tracks by Andy McGibbon's own spectrafrknsonic Bonevilles (known as The Motorsounds on this set)(and who is this guy? the Diddy of Lurgan?), UKs The Surgens bring their next century northern england hillbilly sex thrash party two times, Detroit and now Brooklyn's Rock and Roll Monkey And The Robots bring a couple super teen titan odes and anti-odes to their twin anti-heroes (and mine!) Ann Arbor's Shakey Jake Woods and James Dean. Fukuoka Japan's fuzzbomb fans The Routes shake it two times too. Belgium's Secret Agent Men rock-out so good one might never guess they were Belgian. Hey I knew a girl from Belgium and she ate A LOT of meat. It makes sense. Dublin's The Urges bless and beat us with The Urges Theme while Italys' Super Sexy Boy 1986 touch you two times in the places that are covered by yr bathing suits with Columbian Lover as well as Golden Hole. Belfast's The Tupelo Incident hit it one time but it seems like twice...it was that good baby! Their fellow Belfastian's The Keepers groove down two speaker destroyers one of which is a flaming farfisafied melt down. I havn't been fan of compilation albums for ages on account of the sinple fact that since punk rock died it's first death most compilations i've come across sucked. But this set brings back the glory days of Rodney on the Roq, Hell Comes to Your House, Radio Tokyo Tapes, and the comps that New Alliance, Mystic and SST put out. Really strong stuff that well reminds me that the rock sure as hell ain't even close to dead. You got Motor Sounds Records to thank and blame for that.
Buy Blood On The Scratchplate '65 HERE!
MOTOR SOUNDS RECORDS ARTiSTS ViDEOS!
This sooper high octane 21 track hunk o'punkass garage blues lo-fi rockness hails from dirty durty Northern Ireland and it kills and kills again. 21 times it kills. I just love a record label that you can trust and so far Motor Sounds Records is just that. Like SST Records in the olden days Andy McGibbon's Motor Sounds knows it's thang and knows it well. Chunky hunks of greasy garage rawk squawk vs sexy Joe Da Grinder D-troit R n' B vs Bargain basement fuzz bomb freakouts. Some of y'all know the garagecentric Nuggets box sets and Children of Nuggets. This is like the unknown reform school delinquent brother of Nuggets who doesn't get to come over much 'cuz he's always kicking the collective asses of the Children of Nuggets. Feels he owes it to 'em. Thinks maybe it'll teach 'em a lesson for being such a precious little prigs. Eleven bands from Ireland, Italy, Belgium, England, Japan and the good ol' USA throwing down the State of the garage rawk Union. You get two likker fueled hump infested tracks from Brighton's Mudlow (who just happen to be one of my fave bands in the whole damned universe and who will be stealing yr girlfriends and smashing yr boyfriends guitar at The Deep Blues Festival (their first U.S. appearence!) this summer), two tracks by Andy McGibbon's own spectrafrknsonic Bonevilles (known as The Motorsounds on this set)(and who is this guy? the Diddy of Lurgan?), UKs The Surgens bring their next century northern england hillbilly sex thrash party two times, Detroit and now Brooklyn's Rock and Roll Monkey And The Robots bring a couple super teen titan odes and anti-odes to their twin anti-heroes (and mine!) Ann Arbor's Shakey Jake Woods and James Dean. Fukuoka Japan's fuzzbomb fans The Routes shake it two times too. Belgium's Secret Agent Men rock-out so good one might never guess they were Belgian. Hey I knew a girl from Belgium and she ate A LOT of meat. It makes sense. Dublin's The Urges bless and beat us with The Urges Theme while Italys' Super Sexy Boy 1986 touch you two times in the places that are covered by yr bathing suits with Columbian Lover as well as Golden Hole. Belfast's The Tupelo Incident hit it one time but it seems like twice...it was that good baby! Their fellow Belfastian's The Keepers groove down two speaker destroyers one of which is a flaming farfisafied melt down. I havn't been fan of compilation albums for ages on account of the sinple fact that since punk rock died it's first death most compilations i've come across sucked. But this set brings back the glory days of Rodney on the Roq, Hell Comes to Your House, Radio Tokyo Tapes, and the comps that New Alliance, Mystic and SST put out. Really strong stuff that well reminds me that the rock sure as hell ain't even close to dead. You got Motor Sounds Records to thank and blame for that.
Buy Blood On The Scratchplate '65 HERE!
03 August 2008
MUDLOW: LiVE at BiG Vs in Saint Paul MN 07.21.08
pinhole pic of Mudlow shot by nhungsta!
Brighton UKs Mudlow played a post-DBF gig at Big Vs in Saint Paul MN on the monday following the fest. Sadly their sax man Trimble was under the weather but I filled in on Maraccas and Honkeyfinger hit the harp on a couple songs. The played a bunch of new material including a sweet cover of The Scud Mountain Boys song Silo which has always been a fave of mine so I was shocked and thrilled to hear them do it. The material shows growth while still retaining the very Mudlow-ness that I know and love. My Norwegian friend journalist Oyvind Pharo had spoken with them earlier and had been told that they like to consider their music the soundtrack to an unmade film. Well said. I shot the show with my handy Casio Exilm. It was pretty dark on stage but the sound is good. Mudlow seems to have the ol' Prophet not Welcome at Home problem in the UK so please spread the word about them so we can get them back to the U.S. asap where they garnered a slew of new fans at The Deep Blues Festival.
MUDLOW- Dust from ricksaunders on Vimeo.
MUDLOW - Fetlock from ricksaunders on Vimeo.
MUDLOW - So Long Lee from ricksaunders on Vimeo.
MUDLOW - Silo from ricksaunders on Vimeo.
MUDLOW - Drunken Turkey from ricksaunders on Vimeo.
MUDLOW - Zac from ricksaunders on Vimeo.
MUDLOW - Catalina from ricksaunders on Vimeo.
MUDLOW - Down In The Snow from ricksaunders on Vimeo.
BONUS!
Here's a couple sooper rare Mudlow mp3s
for being such good little monkeys:
Jester MP3
Ain't No Pleasing You MP3
Brighton UKs Mudlow played a post-DBF gig at Big Vs in Saint Paul MN on the monday following the fest. Sadly their sax man Trimble was under the weather but I filled in on Maraccas and Honkeyfinger hit the harp on a couple songs. The played a bunch of new material including a sweet cover of The Scud Mountain Boys song Silo which has always been a fave of mine so I was shocked and thrilled to hear them do it. The material shows growth while still retaining the very Mudlow-ness that I know and love. My Norwegian friend journalist Oyvind Pharo had spoken with them earlier and had been told that they like to consider their music the soundtrack to an unmade film. Well said. I shot the show with my handy Casio Exilm. It was pretty dark on stage but the sound is good. Mudlow seems to have the ol' Prophet not Welcome at Home problem in the UK so please spread the word about them so we can get them back to the U.S. asap where they garnered a slew of new fans at The Deep Blues Festival.
MUDLOW- Dust from ricksaunders on Vimeo.
MUDLOW - Fetlock from ricksaunders on Vimeo.
MUDLOW - So Long Lee from ricksaunders on Vimeo.
MUDLOW - Silo from ricksaunders on Vimeo.
MUDLOW - Drunken Turkey from ricksaunders on Vimeo.
MUDLOW - Zac from ricksaunders on Vimeo.
MUDLOW - Catalina from ricksaunders on Vimeo.
MUDLOW - Down In The Snow from ricksaunders on Vimeo.
BONUS!
Here's a couple sooper rare Mudlow mp3s
for being such good little monkeys:
Jester MP3
Ain't No Pleasing You MP3
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