Vintage Review: Jason & the Scorchers’ Clear Impetuous Morning (1996)

Seldom has a band received so much acclaim and developed such a loyal following as Jason & the Scorchers, yet never get any respect. Jason, Warner, Jeff and Perry have got to be the Rodney Dangerfields of the rock ‘n’ roll world. After a hiatus of several years, the original Scorchers’ line-up got back together a few years ago to record a solid collection of rock ‘n’ roll tunes called A Blazing Grace. It went nowhere outside of their hardcore circle of fans.

Now they’ve delivered what is arguably the finest album of their lengthy career in Clear Impetuous Morning and the signs are there for all to see that the effort is playing mostly to the choir, falling on those deaf ears who’d rather set down fifteen bucks for another Nirvana or Pearl Jam clone than actually grab something that would really get their adrenaline flowing. Even those nouveau country rockers over in  the alt.country scene, while recognizing the Scorchers’ place in their holy pantheon, don’t seem to be falling over themselves to pick up a new Scorchers disc or two...

Jason & the Scorchers’ Clear Impetuous Morning

Clear Impetuous Morning finds the Scorchers mining the same country-flavored, roots-rock vein that they pioneered almost fifteen years ago. In this aspect, the band has never sounded better. Warner Hodges is an exemplary guitarist, a legend-in-waiting on the level of Keith Richards who plays with great skill and flash. Hodges tears off chainsaw riffs like some kid playing air guitar in his bedroom, breathing life into each song. Jason’s energetic vocal delivery is part Hank Williams, part Johnny Rotten, crooning sweet country twang on cuts like “I’m Sticking With You,” kicking out the jams with reckless, joyful abandon on rockers like “Victory Road.” The rhythm section of bassist Jeff Johnson and drummer Perry Baggs provide a steady beat and a strong backbone for the Scorchers performances, playing conservative foils to Jason and Warner’s rock ‘n’ roll crazed wild men.

Lyrically, Clear Impetuous Morning distinguishes itself through its maturity and wisdom. This foursome clearly aren’t the idealistic youngsters that they were in 1982, and every scar that they’ve received through the years can be found in these songs. Jason Ringenberg, always the Scorchers main songwriter, collaborates here with some new partners. Most notable of these is Nashvillian Tommy Womack, formerly of Mid-South legends Government Cheese. Together they put together some of the album’s hottest songs, like the new Scorchers’ show-stopper, “Self-Sabotage” or “Cappuccino Rosie.” A duet between Jason and Emmylou Harris on “Everything Has A Cost” proves to be a natural pairing, the two creating a haunting musical moment that is underlined by some strong six-string work from Hodges.

The Reverend’s Bottom Line

Sadly, the Scorchers seem doomed to be one of those bands who never receive a break, who never find themselves in the “right place at the right time.” If the masses refuse to pick up on an album as solid as Clear Impetuous Morning, what’s left for the band to try? As one of a handful who can truthfully say that I’ve been a fan of the band since the beginning, I marvel at the Scorchers ability to keep going in the face of adversity. They’ve suffered breaking up, getting back together again, three record labels, industry indifference, constant touring and mediocre sales for over a decade and a half. Yet they keep on rocking, cranking out some of the greatest music in the history of the genre, delivering night after night with great live performances. Like Rodney, they get nowhere near the respect they rightfully deserve. (Mammoth Records, released 1996)

Review originally published by R Squared zine

Vintage Review: Webb Wilder’s About Time (2005)

It’s been nearly nine years since Webb Wilder last came ‘round these parts with a new phonograph recording and we’ve all been that much poorer for his absence. Heck, during the great one’s hiatus we’ve suffered through nu-metal, modern rock, Britney Spears, boy bands, and Geo. Bush – a veritable cultural famine of Biblical proportions. You don’t have to tie up that noose and throw it over the rafters just yet, bunkie, ‘cause our year is about to get a whole lot “wilder” and this scribe can only exclaim that it’s “about time!”
 

Webb Wilder’s About Time

Rounding up his “A” Team of veteran players, studio monsters like guitarist George Bradfute, bassist Tom Comet, and drummer Jimmy Lester, Webb Wilder has again hooked up with his long-time partner in crime, the “Ionizer,” R.S. Field to record About Time. As comeback albums go, it’s really like ol’ Webb never left; you can’t really call these grooves a “return to form” because Wilder has never abandoned his pure, untarnished vision of rock ‘n’ roll with a touch of country and blues. Sure, Wilder spices up the brew now and then with some fine brasswork courtesy of Dennis Taylor and Steve Herrman, the band sounding like some R&B revue of old. Overall, old time fans of the “last full-grown man” won’t be disappointed by the track selection found on About Time.

For those of you unfamiliar with Webb Wilder, or those who only know him through his XM satellite radio program, About Time will hit you like that first kiss in the backseat of your daddy’s jalopy. The songs on About Time stand as tall as the singer, a fine combination of roots-rock and Southern fried influences. “Scattergun,” for instance, is a somber, Marty Robbins-styled old west tale of tragedy while “Battle of the Bands” is a ‘50s-flavored rockabilly rave-up with rollicking horns and swinging rhythms. “I Just Had To Laugh” is a typical, old-school Field/Wilder lyrical collaboration about the trials of romance, offering plenty of clever wordplay, Wilder’s magnificent baritone and some mesmerizing fretwork from Bradfute.

“Miss Missy From Ol’ Hong Kong” is a roadhouse rocker with Steve Conn channeling the spirit of a young Jerry Lee on the ivories. As Wilder speaks of Missy’s many attributes, the rest of the band teeters on the edge, blowing the roof off the mutha with instrumental interplay as tight as a fist and honed to a surgical-edge by 1,001 nights spent performing on the road. Wilder reworks Tommy Overstreet’s early ‘70s country classic “If You’re Looking For A Fool” with a heartbreaking, bittersweet tone that is punctuated by Bradfute’s sadly weeping guitar. Kevin Gordon’s excellent “Jimmy Reed Is the King of Rock and Roll” is provided a bluesy, ethereal reading that brings to mind John Campbell’s voodoo king, knee deep in the swamp, howling at the moon while Hank’s ghost-driven Cadillac careens around a corner, down Broadway and away from the Ryman.

The Reverend’s Bottom Line

There’s more, but you’re just going to have to pick up a copy of About Time for yourself and discover the mystery, the madness and the magic of the man called Wilder. Giants standing proudly above lesser talents, Webb Wilder and the Nashvegans deliver in About Time a tonic for our troubled days and times. Welcome back, boys! (Landslide Records, released 2005)

Review originally published by Alt.Culture.Guide™

Vintage Review: Th’ Legendary Shack*Shakers’ Believe (2004)

In the early ‘80s, Jason & the Nashville Scorchers shook up the staid country music establishment with a hard-rocking blend of adrenaline-fueled punk energy and reckless country soul. Two decades later, Th’ Legendary Shack*Shakers have arrived to finish the musical revolution begun by Jason and his crew, tilting the city on its collective ear. Nothing could have prepared the “Music City” for the band’s self-released 2002 debut – Cockadoodledon’t – reissued a year later by Bloodshot Records. A manic collection of rockabilly, blues, and country twang delivered with the intensity of a mad dervish, Th’ Legendary Shack*Shakers announced that it was a force to be reckoned with.

Believe proves that while they may not yet be legendary, the band sure knows how to shake the shack. Toss this slab o’ metal into your CD player and be ready for an old school tent revival to explode from your speakers. Shack*Shakers frontman Col. J.D. Wilkes is ready to preach the gospel of rock and roll to your lonesome ears; the rest of the boys ready to save your soul with their roots-rock hymnal. Believe opens with a train whistle, the choogling beat of “Agony Wagon” warping into an Arabic guitar line beneath a tale of a tortured soul doomed to forever ride the mythical “hellbound train.” Guitarist Joe Buck adds a twangy, Dick Dale-influenced guitar riff beneath Wilkes’ vocals, the lyrics delivered with all the fervor of a Southern preacher standing in the center of a Middle Eastern bazaar.

The album rolls along like a runaway hot rod fueled by whiskey and riding along a tightrope made of discarded guitar strings. “Piss and Vinegar” is a juke-joint rave-up; Wilkes’ echoed vocals punching through a fog of bluesy guitars and staggered drumbeats. Driven by a Carl Perkins-styled rhythms and hazy, psychedelic fretwork, “County of Graves” is another tragic tale, part prayer and part sermon with a drunken soundtrack. “Cussin’ In Tongues” is a mutant truck-driving song, a cross between Dave Dudley and the Butthole Surfers, Pauly Simmonz’ massive percussion work, and Buck’s stylish six-string riffing pushing the rig towards a crashing finish. If your spiritual quest is in need of some cheap thrills, let the Colonel and his boys guide you towards the path of righteousness with Believe. (Yep Roc Records, released 2004)

Review originally published by Alt.Culture.Guide™ zine

Somewhere In The Night: Billy Chinnock Remembered (2007)

While thumbing through the current issue of Rolling Stone, a small but disturbing story caught my eye. Alongside the tragic tale of Boston vocalist Brad Delp’s suicide was a (much) shorter piece about the death of Billy Chinnock. A rock ‘n’ roll lifer whose career spanned Asbury Park, New Jersey; Nashville, Tennessee; and Portland, Maine, Chinnock sadly took his own life on March 7th, 2007 after a long bout with Lyme Disease.

Chinnock launched his career on the Asbury Park boardwalk during the late ‘60s. Chinnock’s Downtown Tangiers Rockin Rhythm & Blues Band included musicians like future E Street Band members Gary Tallent and Danny Federici, Vini “Mad Dog” Lopez, and David Sancious. Although Chinnock was plagued throughout his career with unfair Springsteen comparisons (much like Pittsburgh’s Joe Grushecky), the fact is that both artists were products of the same era and place, subjected to many of the same cultural and geographic influences and listening to a lot of the same music. Whereas Springsteen leaned more towards early garage-rock and the one-hit-wonders of ‘60s AM radio, Chinnock’s music was influenced more by roots-rock and blues.

When A&R legend John Hammond recommended that Chinnock work on his songwriting, the artist broke away from his heavy touring on the Jersey shore rock scene and moved to Maine in 1974, where he honed his craft while continuing to perform and record. Chinnock later migrated to Nashville during the early ‘80s at the prompting of musician and producer Harold Bradley. Bradley had received a cassette of his material and got in touch with Chinnock, and the two subsequently became friends. Chinnock was interested in the renewal of country influence on rock music and was impressed by the energy of the Nashville music scene, so he decided to come down and check it out for himself.

Chinnock integrated himself in the local music scene by jumping in headfirst, playing frequently at local clubs and WKDF-sponsored riverboat shows, as well as outdoor shows at Hermitage Landing. I had the pleasure of meeting and interviewing Billy for The Metro magazine in 1985, and witnessed firsthand his dynamic performance at that year’s “Rock For The Animals” show, which included Afrikan Dreamland, Walk The West, The Paper Dolls, Raging Fire, Hard Knox, Roxx and Bill Lloyd and the December Boys – a veritable “who’s who” of the mid-‘80s Nashville rock underground.

While living in Nashville, Chinnock recorded two landmark albums with producer Bradley – 1985’s independently released Rock & Roll Cowboy, and the 1987 CBS Records release Learning To Survive In the Modern Age, which yielded a minor hit single in the song “Somewhere In the Night.” Chinnock later won an Emmy for “Somewhere In the Night,” which had been used in a daytime soap opera. Chinnock later recorded a chart-topping duet with Roberta Flack which was used as the theme for The Guiding Light television show.

Like many non-country musicians in the “Music City,” Chinnock found a great deal of frustration in Nashville and the local scene. Already a veteran of 20 years of performing and recording, he was more polished and experienced than any of the rockers playing Nashville’s club scene. Although he had a loyal following – mostly blue-collar WKDF listeners – he was dismissed as too slick and mainstream by the local underground. Truth is, Chinnock’s roots-rock style was easily a decade (or two) ahead of its time, and was edgier and had less “commercial potential” at that time than most of Nashville’s more acclaimed “alternative” rock bands.

While I was managing a Nashville pizza delivery restaurant in the late ‘80s, I noticed an order going out to Chinnock’s Belmont Avenue area home. I hadn’t seen Billy in a couple of years and since I was getting off work, I paid for the pizza and drove over to make the delivery and say “hello.” Chinnock seemed happy to see me and we ended up talking for a couple of hours, off the cuff and mostly “off the record.” He expressed a lot of anger over the way that CBS had been messing with his career…Billy had a new album in the can and was ready to have it released and launch a supporting tour. Considering that Chinnock had just won an Emmy and had the highest profile of his career, I can see why he wanted the album released. However, CBS didn’t think the album “marketable” and, after a prolonged battle, dropped Chinnock from his contract.

The CBS debacle, inexcusable as it was, was not the first time that Chinnock’s work had been obstructed by small-minded label executives. Signed by Paramount Records, the label released his debut album Blues in 1974, but shelved his sophomore effort, Road Master, which was produced by Tom Dowd at the legendary Bell Sound Studios in Los Angeles. To the best of my knowledge, the album has never been released. In the wake of fellow Asbury Park rocker Bruce Springsteen’s success, Atlantic Records signed Chinnock to be their Springsteen and released his album Badlands in 1978. When Badlands went nowhere, the label decided to call it a day (after already recording most of a second album); Chinnock evidently got the rights to his masters back and released the 1980 album himself as Dime Store Heroes.

After spending the better part of the decade fighting the system, by 1990 Chinnock had left Nashville in his rearview mirror as he headed back to Maine, where he enjoyed almost 20 years of creativity and performing. 1990’s Thunder In the Valley, released under the name “Billy & the American Suns,” was Chinnock’s last major label album. He continued to record until the end of his life, releasing material on his own indie label, East Coast Records. Chinnock also dabbled in graphic arts and made a name for himself as a filmmaker and video producer, creating the award-winning film The Forgotten Maine.

Chinnock had suffered from Lyme Disease for eight years, the result of a nasty tick bite. The disease defied treatment, ravaging his immune system and leaving him in a great deal of pain. His mother, who lived with Chinnock and with whom he was very close, died ten days before Chinnock. Consumed with grief and suffering from chronic daily pain, Chinnock evidently saw no other way out than suicide. He was 59 years old, still young by today’s rock ‘n’ roll standards.

Chinnock’s sister, Caroline Payne, remembers that her brother was never envious of the success enjoyed by the artist many critics unfairly compared his work to. “I never saw him have any of that,” she told the Portland Press Herald. “I never saw any frustration in him, any jealousy like that. He thought Bruce Springsteen was phenomenal.” Although his vocals could often times sound like Springsteen’s, Chinnock’s music was always original, heartfelt, and genuine, and over the course of a mostly unheralded career that ran almost four decades, Chinnock released 13 albums and entertained a hell of a lot of people.

As usual, John Hammond was right on target when he called Billy Chinnock “the real essence of American music.”

Vintage Review: Steve Earle’s Jerusalem (2002)

A month or so before the release of Jerusalem, Steve Earle’s 10th album, some shrill jackass of an alleged journalist took the artist to task over his song “John Walker’s Blues.” Seems that Earle’s use of the creative process in an attempt to figure out exactly how the “American Taliban” had gotten into the predicament that he found himself in was tantamount to treason in the eyes of the New York Post. The unrepentant reporter dialed up Nashville radio talk show hosts Steve “Love It Or Leave It” Gill and Phil “Corporate Shill” Valentine for their two cents worth, quoting the two right-wing gasbag’s observations on Earle’s song, his career, and his unpatriotic insolence.

Valentine carried his crusade against Earle onto the airwaves with his daily radio gabfest, ignorantly misunderstanding both the song’s intent and Earle’s (successful) career path. Only Grant Alden, editor of the alt-country journal No Depression, stood as the voice of reason, calmly and intelligently explaining the song’s purpose and relevance in both the original New York Post article and on local Nashville television. “John Walker’s Blues” is not, in my mind, one of Earle’s best songs, but it is one of his most heartfelt. Earle obviously looked at his own teenage son and wondered what it is about American culture that would drive an otherwise “normal” kid like John Walker Lindh to embrace radical Islamic thought.

Steve Earle’s Jerusalem

The song is part of the theme that runs throughout Jerusalem, the idea that America is broken in more ways than we care to count and that it is up to us to demand change. Jerusalem is Earle’s most political collection yet, a poetic overview of American society on the brink of disaster. Unlike Bruce Springsteen’s over-hyped and much lauded The Rising album, which also looks at a post-September 11th country, Earle doesn’t focus on feel-good stories of heroism or memories of bitter losses on that fateful day. Rather, Jerusalem offers the cold slap of reason, a stark reminder of what we’ve got to lose as a country. The songs here paint a bleak picture and ask some hard questions.

Jerusalem opens with the rocking “Ashes To Ashes,” a Biblically apocalyptic story of life and death, rebirth and retribution that reminds us that nothing lasts forever. The growing economic and cultural chasm between the rich and the rest of us is handled with great insight on “Amerika v. 6.0 (The Best We Can Do).” “Conspiracy Theory” touches upon the Kennedy and King assassinations and the Viet Nam war, comparing the turbulent ‘60s to the current storm clouds on the horizon while “The Truth” boils down the complex issue of crime and punishment to a single prisoner’s haunting perspective. The Mexican dance hall vibe of “What’s A Simple Man To Do” belies the sad nature of the tale, that of a Maquiladora factory worker forced by desperation to smuggle drugs across the border with tragic results. The gentle memories of “I Remember You” are bolstered by the presence of the angelic Emmylou Harris; her trembling vocals perfectly matched with Earle’s gruff baritone. “Shadowland” rocks like Guitar Town-era Earle while the title track closes Jerusalem, the song serving as a beacon of hope and renewal, offering up the promise of peace in a troubled world.

Not since “Little Steven” Van Zandt challenged the status quo with a pair of excellent mid-80s albums that questioned the “Reagan revolution” has a major American musician delivered such scorching political and social commentary on record. Unlike Rage Against The Machine, Corporate Avenger, or dozens of like-minded and politically oriented artists (mostly coming from a punk background), Earle doesn’t trade in over-amped hyperbole, tired rhetoric and mindless sloganeering on Jerusalem. Earle’s lyrics are complex in their simplicity, hewing closer to Woody Guthrie or Bruce Springsteen in their ability to put a human face on tragedy, alienation and frustration.

The Reverend’s Bottom Line

Jerusalem has been praised by some critics and whitewashed by many more who are unwilling to embrace it as a major work, the first great protest album of the new century. Earle sums it up best in his own liner notes to Jerusalem, written on the 4th of July, when he states that “we are a people perpetually balanced on a tightrope stretched between our history and our potential.” Luckily, we have artists such as Steve Earle to keep us focused on the prize. (E Squared/Artemis Records, released September 24th, 2002)

Review originally published by Alt.Culture.Guide™

Tape Trading: Bare Jr. at 3rd & Lindsey, Nashville TN 1999

ARTIST: Bare Jr.

VENUE: 3rd & Lindsey, Nashville TN; February 28, 1999

SOURCE: 50-minute FM broadcast, performance (9), quality (9)

TRACKLIST: Intro/ Boo-Tay/ Nothin’ Better To Do/ Give Nothing Away/ Patty McBride/ I Hate Myself/ Tobacco Spit/ Naked Albino/ Love-Less/ Soggy Daisy/ You Blew Me Off/ Faker

COMMENTS: Having more in common with 1980s-era rabble-rousers like the Replacements or Jason & the Scorchers than with the vast majority of laid-back, cornpone-eating, Hank-quoting singer/songwriters in “No Depression” garb, Bare Jr. tend to lean more heavily towards the “rock” side of the country-rock equation. Fronted by, well, Bobby Bare Jr, son of the country legend, Bare Jr. the band kick out a high-voltage mix of punk-flavored rock and roots country that plays along the fringe of the current alt-country craze.

This show was a homecoming of sorts, a triumphant return to the Music City after the band had received rave reviews in the mainstream music press for their debut LP, wired live performances and spirited television appearances. Broadcast live on Nashville’s “Radio Lightning,” WRLT-FM from a packed local club, Bare Jr. pulled out all the stops to entertain their home audience. The show’s setlist here is skewed heavily towards material from Boo-Tay, their major label debut, playing most of the album, adding plenty of running commentary from the band in between songs. Although there’s not a bad song here, a few particularly strong performances do stand out.

Among them, there’s a rocking “I Hate Myself,” dedicated by Bare to “every woman I ever dated.” The song starts out mild, focusing on Bare’s introspective lyrics, before spiraling out of control into a black hole of anguished vocals and unrequited love. The senior Bare joins the band for a raucous rendition of “Love-Less” while “You Blew Me Off,” the band’s semi-hit single from the Varsity Blues movie soundtrack, drives the audience wild with its madly discordant guitar riff and Bare’s over-the-top vocals. Ronnie McCoury, fresh from recording an album with Steve Earle and his father’s respected Del McCoury Band, joins the Bare Jr. boys for a show-closing, bluegrass-styled “Hee Haw” version of the band’s “Faker.”

Bare Jr.’s musicianship is top-notch, the band energetically mixing twin guitars, mandolin and the traditional bass guitar/drums rhythm section into a powerful, original sound. What really makes Bare Jr. stand out, however, is Bare’s off-kilter vocals which are often strained to the point of painfulness, and the unbridled recklessness that the band brings to each performance. They adhere to the cowpunk credo: twang it loud! These guys obviously enjoy what they’re doing and we enjoy hearing it.

Review originally published as a “Roll The Tape” column in Live! Music Review, 1999

Vintage Review: Bare Jr's Boo-Tay (1998)

The son of country star Bobby Bare, Junior’s music bears only a passing resemblance to that of his father. Sure, there’s plenty of country influence here – how could you grow up in Nashville in the 1970s and ‘80s with artists like Johnny Cash, George Jones, Willie Nelson and the like hanging around town and not soak some of it up? For Bobby Bare, Jr. however, country is not a means to an end, but rather a flavor to add to his energetic stew of Southern rock and punkish attitude.

The material on Boo-Tay blows away 99% of the alt-country poseurs trying to ride a rising trend to fame and fortune. As a band, Bare Jr. kick out the motherfucking jams with a vigor that surely has Hank spinning in his grave. Boo-Tay’s guitar-driven songs burn with a fervor I’ve only heard matched by Jason & the Scorchers and, more recently, Slobberbone, with the young Bare’s wonderfully imperfect vocals often spiraling out of control like a drunken dervish while guitarist Michael Grimes tears off razor-sharp riffs like some sort of bloodthirsty predator.
 
Bare’s songs tread familiar lyrical ground, albeit with his own peculiar individual twist, the subject matter ranging from self-loathing and lost innocence to betrayal and unrequited love. Cuts like “The Most,” “Faker,” “Why Don’t You Love Me” and the wickedly dark “I Hate Myself” (written with Shel Silverstein) are overflowing with brilliant imagery, not-so-subtle wordplay and hard-rocking instrumentation. One of the more engaging debut discs this year, Boo-Tay is a welcome introduction to the talents of Bare Jr. (Immortal/Epic Records, released 1998)

Review originally published by Alt.Culture.Guide™ 

Vintage Review: Raging Fire’s Everything Is Roses, 1984-1989 (2015)

Nashville is a far different city in 2015 than it was 30 years ago. The Music City has become far more musically diverse, and the city’s rock music scene no longer exists beneath ground, with performers relegated to dive bars like Elliston Square or Cantrell’s. After all, Jack White lives in Nashville now, as do those two guys from the Black Keys, and the city has recently attracted talented immigrants like bluesman Keb’ Mo’. Even the city’s prodigal son, cult rocker R. Stevie Moore, has returned to Nashville.

These days, homegrown Nashville rock bands like Jeff the Brotherhood and Kings of Leon get glowing mentions in Rolling Stone magazine but, back in the day, as a freelance music journalist championing the city’s non-country music scene, I couldn’t get magazine editors on either coast interested in what was going down in Nashville. Jason & the Nashville Scorchers would score a major label deal, but for every local band that would eventually be beaten up and disappointed by the music biz, there were a dozen talented bands like Practical Stylists, Civic Duty, or Shadow 15 that were left standing outside the gates to heaven looking in…  

Ring of Fire

Raging Fire was one of those bands that deserved more, and during their brief tenure on the local scene – circa 1985 to 1989 – they nevertheless managed to make a bigger splash in our small rock ‘n’ roll pond that just about any other local Nashville band at the time. Originally formed under the name Ring of Fire by singer Melora Zaner, guitarist Michael Godsey (who sadly passed away in 2012), bassist Les Shields, and drummer Mark Medley, and managed by ‘man about town’ (and former Phranks n’ Steins booker) Rick Champion, they changed their name to Raging Fire and began dominating the handful of stages available around town with their high-octane performances.

The members of Raging Fire had come up through the fledgling local scene: Zaner from the band Color Flag; Shields from the Ratz, one of the city’s first punk bands; and Godsey and Medley from Committee for Public Safety (CPS), Nashville’s first hardcore band. Their musical influences were as diverse as the members themselves, ranging from classic rock like Led Zeppelin and the Who to erudite punks like X and psychobilly pioneers the Cramps. Fronted by the diminutive Zaner, whose larger than life vocals exuded raw sexuality, the singer was backed by a hungry, ferocious gang of musicians. The retrospective Everything Is Roses, 1985-1989 looks back at Raging Fire’s too-short career, which included only an EP and a full-length album alongside a handful of compilation tracks by which to remember these Nashville rock trailblazers.

Raging Fire’s Everything Is Roses

Fond memories of a band don’t mean much if the music hasn’t held up well after a quarter century, and Raging Fire’s unique sound has proven to be as timeless as it is exciting. Everything Is Roses opens with “A Family Thing,” from the band’s 1985 EP of the same. With a deceptive intro dominated by Zaner’s angelic vocals and Godsey’s acoustic strum, the song literally explodes into a tsunami of chaotic instrumentation. Zaner’s vocals bob up and down through the sonic storm like a warning light as the band continues its instrumental barrage, changing directions so frequently as to create a sort of satisfying whiplash. The rhythmic “You Should Read More Books” is of an entirely different construct, with Medley’s knockout drumbeats and Shields’ dynamic bass playing creating an exotic foundation beneath Zaner’s breathless vocals, with shards of Godsey’s imaginative fretwork puncturing the song’s wall of sound.

“Beware of a Man With Manners” changes directions again, the band evincing a fierce punk undercurrent beneath its Southern Gothic lyrical trappings. Zaner’s vocals here sound a lot like Exene Cervenka while her lyrics channel a similar whipsmart literary edge. Godsey’s guitar playing is amazing here, dancing from 1970s-era arena rock histrionics to switchblade-punk thrash while the rhythm section provides an enormous presence, Shields’ bass holding down the arrangement so that it doesn’t fly off the rails while Medley’s reckless percussion threatens to teeter off the tracks at any moment.

Faith Love Was Made Of

The album's title track, “Everything Is Roses,” serves as the band’s signature song, a blinding performance taken from the City Without A Subway album, a 1986 Vanderbilt University radio station (WRVU) compilation. A monster track that made listeners sit up and take notice, Zaner’s vocal performance is pure lightning in a bottle, soaring above a trashy soundtrack fueled by Medley’s machine-gun drums and Godsey’s flamethrower guitar, the song itself an amalgam of punk-rock, Southern roots, and obtuse poetic lyrics that would make Zimmerman proud. By the time that the band recorded it sole full-length album, Faith Love Was Made Of, in 1986, Shields had left the band, replaced by local scene veteran Lee A. Carr (R.I.P.) of the Enemy.

Carr brought a more anarchic style to the band as opposed to Shields’ strong, soulful rhythms. The other members of Raging Fire had grown, musically, during the interim, the band gradually evolving, as so many do, by performing frequently across the country. “Knee Jerk Response” is a perfect example of this growth, the song a complex blend of Zaner’s vocal gymnastics, Godsey’s razor-blade guitar, and Medley’s more nuanced, but still powerful percussion. By contrast, “You and Me” is sheer punk-rock fury; a runaway arrangement with heavy instrumentation that often buries Zaner’s vocals, Medley’s tribal drumbeats giving way to the blind emotion displayed by Godsey’s screaming strings.

Hear Rock City

Taken from the 1988 CMJ (College Music Journal) compilation LP Ten of a Kind, “The Marrying Kind” was a Raging Fire fan favorite and a constant presence on the WRVU-FM playlist. Raging Fire rubbed elbows on that album with such esteemed “underground” artists as the Gunbunnies and Material Issue as one of the best unsigned bands in the U.S. A more subdued song than some of their milieu, “The Marrying Kind” offers one of Zaner’s best lyrical compositions, with aggressive, emotional vocals to match, Godsey’s six-string work displaying scraps of surf-guitar melody, albeit played with a punkish intensity, Medley’s steady timekeeping supporting the rhythmic playing of new bassist John Reed.

“A Desire Scorned,” from the Nashville Entertainment Association’s cassette compilation Hear Rock City: Tennessee Tracks, offers another great example of the band’s growth. The song’s poppy, melodic opening falls behind a delightfully textured arrangement built on the interplay of Godsey’s shimmering fretwork, bassist Glenn Worf’s bass line, and Medley’s cascading drumbeats with Zaner’s vocals displaying more maturity and confidence as they soar effortlessly above the dense instrumental backdrop.

Demos & Live Tracks

The CD and digital download version of Everything Is Roses include a wealth of rare live tracks and demo tapes, the most fetching of these being “Hands of God,” an unreleased 1989 demo with Rusty Watkins on bass and Jerry Dale McFadden (The Mavericks) on keyboards. The song opens with swirls of psychedelic guitar, and offers an explosive light/dark dynamic with Zaner’s vocals often flying solo through the mix only to be eventually overwhelmed by Watkins’ textured bass lines and McFadden’s inspired, 1960s-styled psych-rock B3 riffs.

Recorded in 2015 specifically for this release, “More Than This” is an update of a song originally released on Faith Love was Made Of. With Shields returning on bass, Medley on drums, and Zaner’s still-potent vocals up front, the late Michael Godsey’s role in the band is assumed by twin guitarists Joe Blanton (Royal Court of China, the Bluefields) and Warner Hodges (Jason & the Scorchers, the Bluefields). The result is a muscular rocker with incendiary fretwork layered in beneath Zaner’s voice, which doesn’t seem to have lost a step since 1989. The performance is of a harder style of rock, perhaps, than vintage Raging Fire, proving that Zaner’s distinctive vocal style plays well in any setting.

Collectible Formats

There aren’t many complaints to be made about Everything Is Roses. The band has released this vital slab o’ Nashville rock ‘n’ roll history in various formats, including a limited edition, extremely-collectible eleven-track vinyl album (which includes gems like “A Family Thing,” “Everything Is Roses,” and “The Marrying Kind”) as well as a 22-track compact disc and a 26-song lossless digital download (a download card comes with the vinyl version). All three formats feature an illustrated booklet with informative and insightful liner notes by Nashville music journalist (and friend of the band) Michael McCall.

Much of the production here is thin, which is more a function of the band’s original recording budgets than anything else, and thanks to producers and engineers like Mike Poole, Jeff Johnson, Richie Owens, and Rick Will, the band eschewed the stilted, unbearable production clichés that plague so many 1980s-era rock recordings. The strength of the performances transcends the production, however, jumping off the grooves and grabbing you by the ears. The band’s core members of Zaner, Godsey, and Medley clearly had an artistic vision for Raging Fire that they stuck to through thick and thin, and while they ran through a number of talented bass players during the band’s brief existence, the music never suffered.

The Reverend’s Bottom Line

Raging Fire was a band far ahead of its time and sadly, they may have given up the ghost too early, just as musical trends were changing from the Aquanet-drenched nerf metal oozing from the gutters of Los Angeles towards the more organic, alt-rock turf of the 1990s that was friendlier to a band with imagination. Nevertheless, Everything Is Roses is more than a mere nostalgia-tinted look backwards at a band that never made it, the compilation instead a worthy snapshot of a time and place when an outfit as original and energetic as Raging Fire, with an enormous musical chemistry, could develop outside of major label demands and expectations.

Fans of Nashville’s early rock scene will appreciate Everything Is Roses as a fond reminder of their misspent youth. For those who of you were never lucky enough to have caught Raging Fire perform live back in the day, or never chanced upon one of their songs playing on a college radio station, the performances here should come as a revelation, the distant sounds of a young band that never failed to deliver smart, passionate, literary music that still rocked like a tornado in a trailer park. Grade: A (Pristine Records, released October 6, 2015)

Review originally published by That Devil Music blog...

Vintage Review: Raging Fire’s These Teeth Are Sharp (2017)

Nashville’s Raging Fire was, perhaps, the best ‘80s-era band that you never heard. As recent as a couple years back, unless you were blessed by the gods of rock ‘n’ roll to have seen one of their Southeastern performances during the band’s too-brief tenure, all that remained of their legacy was a pair of firecracker recordings and a red-hot memory branded into your brain. Formed in 1984, they were gone by ’89, swept away by the plodding hoofbeats of grunge, the architects of the band’s unique sound and fury moving on to jobs, families, and lives outside the realms of rock.

Sometimes the gods smile upon we mere mortals, however, and such was the case when Raging Fire’s surviving members – powerhouse vocalist Melora Zaner, bassist Les Shields, and drummer Mark Medley – decided to take a look back at their collective past and honor the memory of their fallen band members, guitarist Michael Godsey and bassist Lee Carr, by releasing the retrospective set Everything Is Roses, 1985-1989. Collecting every sonic scrap recorded by the band for posterity, as I wrote upon its release, “Everything Is Roses is more than a mere nostalgia-tinted look backwards...the compilation instead a worthy snapshot of a time and place were an outfit as original and energetic as Raging Fire, with an enormous musical chemistry, could develop outside major label demands and expectations.”

Raging Fire’s These Teeth Are Sharp

In the wake of the 2015 release of Everything Is Roses, Raging Fire got back together and, with some friends pitching in to help, they performed a reunion show in Nashville. That led to the writing of some new songs and, long story short, a wondrous new 2017 Raging Fire album titled These Teeth Are Sharp, the band’s 30+ years-in-the-making follow-up to 1986’s Faith Love Was Made Of album. The core gang of Zaner, Medley, and Shields are here along with contributions from friends like guitarists Joe Blanton (The Bluefields, Royal Court of China) and Jeff Cease (The Black Crowes, Rumble Circus) and keyboard wizard Giles Reaves (one of the Music City’s most underrated talents). The old musical chemistry is definitely present, even with addition of the band’s new playmates, making the nine songs to be found on These Teeth Are Sharp every bit as raucous, intelligent, and anarchic as the band has ever been.

From the opening riff of the title track, one can hear the presence of something supernaturally special. Zaner sings unlike any vocalist you’ve ever heard, her kittenish voice capable of twisting emotion into a things of dark beauty while the backing instruments shift directions with whiplash brutality. “A Narrow Sky” shows its talons early on with swooping guitar licks and Zaner’s poetic lyrics yielding devastating imagery like “do you know the feeling when the air closes in as quiet as the grave?” which is sung in an ethereal voice as menacing as it is seemingly innocent. The album’s lone cover, of the 1960’s-era Rufus Thomas hit “Walking the Dog,” is as alien an interpretation of the Memphis soul classic as you’ll ever hear with breathless, stilted vocals, sparse rhythm, and delightfully jagged fretwork that work in spite of the fact that it probably shouldn’t.

By contrast, “Free to Be” is a bouncy pop song with rapid-fire vocals (some sung in Chinese…), Medley’s stormy percussion, jangly guitars, and an altogether energetic vibe that seems like a genetic hybrid of R.E.M. and the Talking Heads but with pure Raging Fire DNA. “Raindances” is a rocker with imaginative guitarplay coupled with John Reed’s concrete bass lines and Medley’s unrelenting drumbeats, tho’ it, too, throws a spanner in the works with quiet passages that crescendo to an explosive finish. These Teeth Are Sharp closes with “Dreams From Under the Love Seat,” one of the band’s few songs with lyrics written by drummer Medley, who displays a knack for imagery-drenched wordplay. Zaner delivers a stellar vocal performance while the guitars sting with the anger of a thousand wasps and the instrumentation, overall, washed over you like a gentle tsunami.

The Reverend’s Bottom Line

Here in 2017, Raging Fire is, perhaps, the best band that you’ve never heard. This time, however, you can change this sorry status by heading over to the band’s website and grabbing up a copy of These Teeth Are Sharp before Raging Fire once again disappears into the mists of time. The band’s blend of words and music is as alchemical as it’s ever been as they expand upon their original sound without treading across old creative grounds, exploring new creative pathways. There’s plenty for the band’s old fans to like about this year’s model of Raging Fire, and a world of wonder for the newcomer to explore. The gods of rock ‘n’ roll are pleased… Grade: A (Pristine Records, released May 12, 2017)

Review originally published by That Devil Music blog 

Vintage Review: Pujol’s Nasty, Brutish, and Short EP (2011)

If one were to scratch out a blueprint for the archetypal indie-rock band, Nashville’s Pujol would be the result. Founded by singer, guitarist, and songwriter Daniel Pujol – the only constant in a group that included the Police’s Stewart Copeland at one time – the band that bears his name has made a lot of influential friends in a short period of time. In two years, Pujol has released ten different recordings, including the full-length X File On Main Street album, released by a variety of pureblood indie labels including Jack White’s Third Man Records and Infinity Cat (JEFF the Brotherhood’s imprint).

For Pujol’s Saddle Creek Records debut, the Nasty, Brutish, and Short EP, they build upon their trademark, Southern-bred, garage-punk rock ‘n’ roll with elements of 1960s-vintage British Invasion and 1970s-era power-pop sounds. The opening track “Mayday” starts out with a blur, a Beatlesque “Helter Skelter” riff leaping headfirst into a chaotic swirl of distorted and contorted instrumentation. Somehow the song manages to hold onto its underlying melody, probably due to Pujol’s playful vocals and the adrenalin O.D. of the singer’s whip-smart lyrics.

The following “Scully” doesn’t fare as well, although it’s by no means a bad song…the melody here is lofty, vague, and undefined while the crush of the instrumentation and Pujol’s smarty-pants garage-rock sneer makes for an invigorating, if shockingly intense, listen. The jangly flash-bang of “Emotion Chip (No Feeling)” hides a lyrical treasure beneath its broken heart and razor-wire guitar lines. Pujol’s pleading vocals barely emerge from the mix, bouncing tearfully in between Duane Eddy-styled surf ‘n’ turf riffs and unrelenting rhythms that crash and bash reminiscent of the Replacements on a good night.

Nasty, Brutish, and Short closes with “Stuff” and “Point of View,” two humdingers of unique style and manic creativity. The former offers a swaggering, sweaty barrage of words and rhythm, a too-brief explosion of noise and frantic emotion with shots of wiry fretwork levied across the mix as the vocals march to their own (different) drummer. The latter takes the “wall of sound” concept found throughout the EP to a higher level – you’d need a backhoe to dig out all of Pujol’s lyrics here, but it’s all just so damn much fun that you won’t care. A barely-present melody acts as the glue holding the song together as madhouse guitars sparkle and instruments chime like the bastard children of the Byrds, R.E.M. and Let’s Active, a simply delightful musical moment that buries itself into your medulla oblongata like a chigger and refuses to let go.

The entirety of Nasty, Brutish, and Short runs just eighteen minutes from start to finish, a reckless, barely-contained joy ride that manages to sound contemporary even while absorbing and channeling so much of rock’s hallowed past. If Pujol is the new sound of the south, count me in as a fan. (Saddle Creek Records, released August 19, 2011)

Review originally published by Blurt magazine