Tag Archives: Blues Rock

Buckcherry – Rock n’ Roll

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Predictability is underrated. There is something that hits the spot about songs doing what you want them to, when you want them to, when you know you can trust a band not to throw you a curve ball, but in the process spit out a bourbon flavoured selection that will tick all the boxes it needs to, and guarantee nothing but a good motherfucking time. It’s album seven, and you know what you’re getting from Josh Todd and the Buckcherry boys. The title, Rock n’ Roll (F-Bomb/Caroline) even confirms it.

Making their (makers) mark swigging from the bottles marked Guns n’ Roses, Love/Hate and Aerosmith this album really does what it says on the tin, as opener ‘Bring It On Back’ teases ‘Welcome To The Jungle’ before swaggering into aural view, Todd’s effortless trademark vocals planting the seed of a chorus that’ll take root and grow.

‘Tight Pants’ is this years tongue-in-bum, dick-tapping, ass-slapping, stuck-in-your-head as brassy as the parps that enhance the chorus rump-shaker; it’s bum-chum ‘Wish To Carry On’ brings an overwhelming desire to whap your arm-round your mate and sing along to the optimistic boogie-rock while ‘The Madness’ brings the 4/4 power-stomp, banging its head to Velvet Revolver. ‘Wood’ is as wood does; as simple and recognisable Aerosmith worship as it’s oh-so-obvious double-entendre lyrics (I’m not even sure they’re double meaning, pretty upfront, so to speak…), and when they slow things down, effortless flecking ‘The Feeling Never Dies’ and its jangly blues rock, the Black Crowes shuffle of ‘Rain Falling’ and ‘Crazy,’ with swathes Americana and sitting-on-the-porch hooks, the depths and changes of pace are welcome.

While ‘Crazy Bitch’ from 2005’s 15 (Universal/Eleven Seven) is the anthem that the band will forever be known for due to being the most infectious earworm of all time ever and their self-titled début (Dreamworks) will never be surpassed as Buckcherry’s go-to moments, Rock n’ Roll joins a growing repertoire of credible, worthwhile and fun rock albums that continues the legacy of yesteryear. There’s usually a reason the big boys are the big boys, and since reforming  a decade ago the ‘cherry have managed to keep their pecker up, and the Rock n’ Roll a-rollin’.

 

7.5/10

 

STEVE TOVEY


Ramblin’ Man Fair (Sunday) – Maidstone, UK

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After the glorious weather of the Saturday, Sunday at Ramblin’ Man greets us with rain. Lots and lots of rain and some dampened (chortle chortle) moods. As a result the arena certainly seems noticeably emptier than yesterday; but alas, duty calls. Even Sweden’s Blues Pills and their brand of psychedelic, 60s rock can’t perturb the downpour. Despite their suiting to sunnier climes however they go down a storm (!), as Elin Larsson showcases her massive, Janis Joplin-esque voice.

Despite the grim weather, Icelandic rockers Solstifir have a sizable turnout. Their presence on the main stage and the warm welcome they receive is incredibly gratifying. In spite of their short set, their performances of what has become their signature song, ‘Otta’ will hopefully elevate them further into the rock arena. Which, judging by today’s performance, they will most definitely deserve.

 

The rain proves a problem for the Prog Stage particularly as its shallow shelter fails to protect equipment (and band members) from the downpour. For Knifeworld sound problems would prove very detrimental as many of their instruments (and backing vocals) seemingly fail to come out of the PA at all. Kavus Torabi’s drawling, quirky vocals are always clear, but their complex and diverse structures are damaged severely, such as on ‘Send Him Seaworthy’ where its prominent Bassoon sections sounded completely nonexistent.

The Blues Tent enjoys a significant audience for the day, bolstered by those seeking shelter from the rain; as a result catching Aaron Keylock proves impossible, but from the outside he sounds on fine form. Over at the Prog Stage, The Pineapple Thief play a triumphant set which balances between their more delicate songs such as ‘Magnolia’ and their rockier kin of the likes of ‘Alone At Sea’ with great fluidity, showing their dexterity and understated diversity, proving a highlight of the entire weekend.

 

There’s a lot of love for Polish lads Riverside, and with good reason. Since the release of Shrine of New Generation Slaves (InsideOut) they have worked their way into the hearts of countless devotees. Their set today is nothing less than triumphant, seemingly able to bring the sunshine despite the clouds, lifting the spirits and smiles of the now rather soggy crowd. Their delight at the live setting is obvious, playing with gusto and passion compositions such as ‘Hyperactive’, ‘O2 Panic Room’ and ending with an immaculate rendition of ‘We Got Used To This’. This has to be one of the performances of the weekend.

Finally the rain eases and the sun shines through, creating a beautiful and apt scene for Alcest and their melancholic but gorgeous shoe-gazing take on prog. Despite his very reserved, even shy nature, Niege grows each time into his role as the band’s centerpiece, talking at greater lengths and showing genuine appreciation to the crowd. Mixing their earlier black metal orientated songs with the latter, softer elements, their set is one of pure majesty and hypnotic beauty that completely draws everyone in. Closing with a mesmerizing “Deliverance”, the band gradually leave the stage, finally with Niege as he turns, humbled by the rapturous response.

 

Possibly one of the most anticipated performances from the weekend comes from Seasick Steve. He arrives on stage dressed in garb that you wouldn’t find out of place on a lumberjack, and unassuming persona makes him even more endearing to the huge crowd in front of him. He regales tales of the origins of his many handmade instruments to the amused crowd, who are seemingly baffled that he can produce such music from such rickety creations. Songs like ‘Thunderbird’ and ‘Walkin’ Man’ transform the ordinary to the extraordinary.

Very few people are as iconic and instrumental in the world of Prog rock as Ian Anderson, and, while his legacy needs not reiterating, today his performance is certainly enjoyable but far from perfect. Brimming with an ever present enthusiasm and his quirky sense of humour and personality, Anderson is a joyous presence with sadly but expectedly some signs of wear and tear setting in. What really detracts however is the ill fitting, over the top style of guitarist Florian Ophale which doesn’t seem to make sense. Given a spot to show off, Ophale certainly has skill but his virtuoso performance does not match to the rest of the set at all, as if a last minute addition. Songs like ‘Agualung’ are simply timeless and can never fail, but the presence of Ophale leaves too sour a taste.

Ramblingman Festival photo credit Ramblingman Festival

Marillion are one of those bands that seem to have always been there. It would be difficult to imagine the progressive rock scene without them, as they are the reason why many in the crowd are here today. Opening with the fifteen minute marvel that is ‘Gaza’, Steve Hogarth and co prove their longevity.  Their set is filled with relatively new tomes, the post pre-1995 entry being ‘Sugar Mice’ but to the delight of the crowd. Steve Hogarth’s stage-based eccentricities and his unique vocal style (apparently unaffected by time) are on top form. Much of the set comes from their latest release, ‘Sounds That Can’t Be Made’, arguably their best yet. The crowd sings ‘Power’ as though it was their last breath, and as they close all too soon with ‘The Invisible Man’; it is clear that Marillion reach stretches beyond the progressive world.

 

WORDS: CHRIS TIPPELL & SARAH WORSLEY

 


Ramblin’ Man Fair Festival (Saturday) – Maidstone, Kent (UK)

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In the absence of the much missed High Voltage Festival the UK festival scene has been screaming for a high profile outdoor festival which specializes in the worlds of classic rock and progressive rock. On a glorious, sunny Saturday the gates open to the sport park in Maidstone, Kent, revealing everything we rock fans need, namely great names and booze. The main and Prog stages sit either side of the site, as well as a beer festival bar and a third stage that will host both Country & Western today and Blues tomorrow. Welcome to the inaugural Ramblin’ Man Fair!

 

Touchstone hold a very special place in the hearts of their fans. So it comes as no surprise that they amass one of the biggest crowds of the day. With their last ever shows looming, it’s no wonder that as the first bars of ‘Wintercoast’ burst through the speakers, the crowd are completely immersed in the five piece. Kim Seviour’s vocals are on magnificent form, and it is clear that the reaction of the crowd means a lot to her and the rest of the band. Their encore is their renowned cover of Tears For Fears’ ‘Mad World’ for which they are accompanied by John Mitchell on guitar. The prog world will be very sorry to see them go.

Things take a psychedelic turn as prog upstarts Messenger prove that age doesn’t mean a damn thing. Having already supported the likes of Devin Townsend it is clear that we can expect great things from them. Unfortunately the vastness of the field locale seems to overwhelm their folk tinted melodies, and many an interest is lost. That being said, it is an impressive set, which only hints at things to come.

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Your scribe’s first visit to the main stage sees Blue Oyster Cult prove why they are one of rock’s most underrated gems. Arriving to the Game Of Thrones theme tune, BOC put on a master-class performance, which shows both experience and, perhaps, a surprising level of energy. Donald Roesar, Eric Bloom and Kasim Sultan prowl the stage and exude charisma, backed by a sterling set of anthems including a monstrous (pun entirely intended) ‘Godzilla’. Sadly a large portion of the crowd leave once THAT song is played, but this doesn’t take away from a sterling set which proves that these legends are so much more than a one song band.

 

British Prog heroes Haken are soaring right now, garnering plaudits a plenty and following a very well received EP release, and today’s performance shows signs of just why, if with some inconsistencies. Beginning with the short and shaper ‘Premonition’ from Visions (Lasers Edge) and The Mountain’s (InsideOut) ‘In Memoriam’ , they kick the Prog dial up with 3 long players closing the set. An unusually mixed set sadly sees a flat performance of breakthrough song ‘The Cockroach King’ which seems to lack its urgency and power. A stunning rendition of ‘Crystallised’ following on however certainly makes amends as the set closer.

There cannot be a rock and metal festival goer on the planet now who hasn’t seen legends Saxon at some stage now, seemingly an ever present each year, and with performances like this it’s a bloody good job too. Offering very few surprises, their set is loaded with the familiar classics that everyone knows and loves to rapturous response from the gathered masses. Biff Byford gives an engaging and genuine display as ever as he commands his troops through classic anthems like ‘Strong Arm Of The Law’ and the timeless ‘Wheels Of Steel’, barking that they will play until they are booted off the stage. No such set cutting occurs however as they close the set with a rousing ‘Denim And Leather’, further cementing their reputation as one of metal’s most beloved acts.

 

Up on the main stage, prog maestros Dream Theater are going through the motions. Sadly despite their flawless, CD-perfect performance it feels as though they’re lacking personality. There is a sense of love ‘em and leave ‘em about this performance, and with the exception of Jordan Rudess the band looked as though this was a 9-5 job. Even the heart-wrenching ‘The Spirit Carries On’ falls flat emotionally, and the bombastic ‘Burning My Soul’ feels forced and perfunctory. The humdrum nature of closer ‘Behind the Veil’ bookends what has been a worrying glimpse into the bands future.

The last few years have seen Anathema rise from underground heroes to one of prog’s most celebrated entities, showcased as second to headliners to icons Camel. Renowned for their knack to bring grown men to tears, today they give a set full of some more energetic numbers but still with that trademark emotion and serenity. After a low key but building start to ‘Anathema’, things kick up a gear into ‘Untouchables Part 1’ before a raucous ‘Thin Air’ gives momentum. The splendor of the vocal harmonies really shows on ‘The Lost Song Part 3’, showing Lee Douglas’ growing ever more confident performance after performance; particularly so when she leads on the beautiful ‘The Lightning Song’. Closing with a harder and more energised rendition of ‘Distant Satellites’ than on record, they show just how versatile they are. Yes it may be songs that they have aired countless times in the last few years, but they are played as stunningly as ever.

 

The level of adoration for Camel the prog community has is unrivaled, and with good reason. Since their incarnation back in 1971, Andy Latimer and his brethren have produced some of the most iconic albums both inside and outside progressive music. It is a privilege to be amongst the crowd tonight, and as ‘Never Let Go’ begins proceedings, it is clear that their form has not floundered. Latimer is on his finest form yet; both his guitar work and vocals are flawless. Each song is met with elated cheers and fervent applause, with song like ‘Spirit of the Water’ flowing seamlessly into ‘Air Born’. Noise bleed from the Scorpions set does punctuate some of the quieter segments, but Latimer is undeterred proving that Camel are the real headliners of a glorious first day in Maidstone.

With the pull of the returning Camel on the Prog Stage, the crowd for German legends Scorpions is not quite as rammed as perhaps expected, and the huge delay does not help shake the underwhelming feeling. When they finally do take to the stage its to a somewhat flat and uninspiring rendition of ‘Going Out With A Bang’, at this point a seemingly ironic statement. Fortunately proceedings pick up with the sterling ‘Make It Real’ and ‘The Zoo’, as guitarists Rudolf Schenker and Matthias Jabs and drummer James Kottak show tonnes of energy and Cheshire cat grins.

For the most part this is an immensely enjoyable set that balances classics such as ‘Wind Of Change’ and ‘Big City Nights’ with stellar tracks off the new album Return To Forever (Sony) like the monumental ‘We Built This House’ which sounds right at home with the anthems. But inconsistency sets in with a couple of moments that don’t hit the mark: for example the momentum killing acoustic segment. Inconsistencies aside this is a thoroughly enjoyable set, and as they close with favourite’“Rock You Like A Hurricane’ they affirm their legendary status with a great, if not perfect, close to day one.

 

WORDS: CHRIS TIPPELL & SARAH WORSLEY


Blues Pills – Blues Pills Live

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When I was a kid, the live album was a thing of wonder. If you hadn’t ever been to a live show, the sound of the audience cheering across some of the best songs of your favourite artist was the passport to another world; a world of impossible glamour and excitement, of thrills and spills, where dreams came true and days never ended. If you had been to a show it could act as a wonderful souvenir, a memory jerking memento of the best gigs you’d ever been to: think Iron Maiden‘s Live After Death (EMI), Scorpions‘ World Wide Live (Mercury). Like I said: wonderful.

So why is it that I’m left with a particularly empty feeling after spending time with Blues Pills Live album (Nuclear Blast)? It’s not that Blues Pills are a poor act or indeed that their performance on this record is substandard. If anything, this live album underscores just how good a band they are: rich and nuanced with an elemental talent that you cannot help but warm to. It’s not that the recording is poor or muddied: on the contrary, the musicianship is exemplary, the vocals deep, authentic and occasionally haunting.

So what is it? Clearly I’ve grown: not necessarily “up” but grown nonetheless so that need for the passport to another world is no longer as pronounced as it was. Notwithstanding, I still believe in the power of rock’n’roll to transcend the everyday, to bring magic to the mundane and joy to the joyless. Blues Pills Live feels anything but. It’s the classic record company cash in: I would understand if this was an act as the end of their career, squeezing the last bit of juice out of the fans before saying a long farewell. But Blues Pills are at the start of their hopefully lengthy career. They have one, repeat, one stellar record to their name. In rock n roll they are barely out of the starting blocks let alone reaching the finishing tape. They don’t have enough material for this to be a greatest hits set and so what you’re left with is just a decent live recording. And that’s it. Above all, Blues Pills Live feels cheap and cynical: far from what I thought this organic and warm band were.

Blues Pills Live is, to paraphrase the writer Mark Ellen, a waste of talent and electricity. Save your money and buy a ticket for their gigs. If you really need a souvenir, their psychedelic t-shirts are quite nice.

 

8.0/10

(for the music, 3/10 for the concept)

Blues Pills on Facebook

 

MAT DAVIES


Wino And Conny Ochs – Freedom Conspiracy

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Robert Scott “Wino” Weinrich is the front man for the Doom Metal bands The Obsessed and Saint Vitus, Conny Ochs is a Dark Folk musician, and together they make minimalist bluesy folk. In 2012 they released Heavy Kingdom, and now they came together once again to produce Freedom Conspiracy (both Exile On Mainstream).

While Heavy Kingdom was really raw and unpolished, which had its charms but also lacked in places, Freedom Conspiracy is much more polished. This does not mean they have lost their feeling though. The songs are still simple and effective despite being more complex musically. Many songs on this album combine electric guitar with an acoustic, and the electric sound is sometimes really sludgy. In the title track ‘Freedom Conspiracy’ the electric guitar plays almost the same lines as the acoustic, which creates a very deep sound. Interestingly, the guitar in the verse sounds a lot like ‘The Mirror Song’ by Live.

The vocals also have a layer of distortion over them at times, which lends some power to the melancholic lyrics and melodies. I really enjoy the bluesy aspects of this album, such as the slide guitar in ‘Shards’. A real highlight is ‘Foundation Chaos’, which is a blues in 7/8ths in the verses and 4/4ths in the chorus, and as such it has such an unusual groove. ‘Invisible Bullets’ is also a very interesting song, the chords and melodies go in places that you don’t expect, and the chords and solo on electric coupled with primarily high vocals really sets this song apart from the rest from the album. It sounds a little bit messy in places, like they had not played it through a lot before recording it, but it is definitely one of my favourites. The album ends with another melancholic yet sweet song, ‘The Great Destroyer’. It is a great closer for this album about love, loss, and dealing with being human, and leaves you with a kind of quiet happiness, as if you grew just a little as a person by listening.

 

7.5/10

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Conny Ochs on Facebook

 

LORRAINE LYSEN

 


Primitive Man – Home Is Where The Hatred Is

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Abstract is the new brutal. The principal focus of Extreme Metal has always been to make music that sounds as violent or destructive as possible, but over the last couple of years a growing number of bands in different sub-genres have embraced a more subtle approach. Whether it’s Gnaw Their Tongues and their followers blending Black Metal with Noise elements, Blut Aus Nord embracing dissonance or Portal deconstructing familiar Death Metal into something totally other, it’s becoming more common to encounter Extreme Metal which doesn’t so much punch your face as make you doubt its existence.

Primitive Man are one of a current circle of bands – Sea Bastard, Keeper and Indian among their peers – engaged in stripping so-called “Sludge”, that ugly child of Punk and Black Sabbath, of its Blues influences and sense of groove and focussing entirely on its capacity for bleakness and discomfort, and are arguably the leaders in their circle when it comes to abstraction. Home Is Where The Hatred Is (Relapse) continues from their independent debut album Scorn with thirty minutes of abstract rhythms, broken chords and growled vocals that steadfastly refuse to describe anything as uplifting or recognisable as a riff.  It’s a thick, genuinely unsettling morass of noise and almost ambient amp abuse, and when they do allow themselves a brief moment of Grind-fuelled violence at the start of Downfall it’s almost a relief – though one that’s rapidly overtaken as the song collapses once again into dissonance and atmospherics. There are similarities to Khanate, of course, in their use of dissonance and unorthodox song structures, but as their name would suggest they seem less artful and refined, more… well… primitive.

It is extremely difficult to criticise HIWTHI, not because it’s without flaws, but because any apparent weaknesses (tracks blurring into another; the lack of satisfying climax; the sense of dislocation and frustration that pervades) are so obviously the result of very deliberate choices by the band.  They’re not bugs, to borrow from the clichés of IT, but features. This isn’t the dirty, angry Rock ‘n Roll of Eyehategod or Iron Monkey, and it doesn’t seek to press the same buttons – this is genuinely ugly, unsatisfying, dissonant music from a band who aren’t interested in catharsis or making you rock out.

 

8.0/10

Primitive Man on Facebook

 

RICHIE HR


The Answer – Raise A Little Hell

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It can be hard to tell, sometimes, about the career progression (or otherwise) of a band in this age of dwindling physical sales, so sometimes all you have to go on is how often people are talking about a band, their “buzz” and their profile. Now, I accept this can create a false impression, but while they burst onto the scene with some UK-centric noise around Rise (Albert) in 2006, it seems very few are talking about Northern Ireland’s The Answer any more (if they were at all), and perception is of a band that have gone backwards, despite some pretty hefty touring with AC/DC.

Raise A Little Hell (Napalm) is their fifth album and kicks off with ‘Long Live The Renegades’, a mash of Deep Purple’s ‘Woman From Tokyo’ and Thunder’s ‘She’s So Fine’; Cormac Neeson’s smoky Bon Scott voice and Paul Mahon’s effortless bluesy licks bringing to life a track that will no doubt become a live favourite. Citing AC/DC and Thin Lizzy as main influences, the album proceeds to walk through the greats of yesterday; ‘The Other Side’ dances in the garden of Led Zeppelin and ‘Red’ kisses the feet of Whitesnake, ‘I Am What I Am’ and the title track are slower, bluesier numbers, while ‘Whiplash’ raises the pulse. The album is locked down by the constant heartbeat of solid bass and drums, and naturally references yesteryear with casual blues rock riffs.

However, as I’ve mentioned before elsewhere (Orden Ogan), by a fifth album I’m looking for some sort of legacy, some sort of statement, and the thing about The Answer is, that they aren’t. The Answer, that is. Or if they are, the question must be “name a decent, if unspectacular, rock band of the common-or-garden variety”, and while that’s harsh, should The Answer cease to be, there would be very little wailing or gnashing of teeth. These aren’t the sort of band to release a drop-your-trousers bone(r) fide classic.

That said, good music is good music, whether it’s bought by ten people or ten million. And Raise A Little Hell is simple, effective, good hard rocking music.

 

7.0/10

The Answer on Facebook

 

STEVE TOVEY


Desert Storm – Omniscient Masters

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If the adage “times flies when you’re having fun” has any sort of current validation then Oxford’s Desert Storm must be having quite a lot of fun as this is, almost unbelievably, their third album. Following a debut record, Forked Tongue (independent/self-released), that showed a huge amount of promise, a second album (Horizontal Life) (Blindsight) that pretty much said “yes, they know exactly what they are doing: more please”, the band’s bluesy, riff hungry, gnarlier-than-you take on southern influenced blues/sludge rock suggested a band with its heart and its head in deepest Missouri as opposed to the English home counties.

For this third album, the enigmatically titled Omniscient Masters (Blindsight), the word “experimentation” occasionally springs to mind, although, worry not, the departures are more nuanced than truly startling- they haven’t gone all One Direction on us, for example. Omniscient Masters is the sound of a band feeling like they need to stretch their creative legs a bit, whilst continuing to deliver slab after slab of riff-tastic blues rock.

To these ears, Omniscient Masters is an album that owes something of a creative debt to Orange Goblin. As any fool know, there’s not much wrong with that and so it proves on the splendid and splendidly titled ‘Collapse of the Bison Lung’ which is stirring and heavier than a lead and iron sandwich.  You won’t need a post-graduate qualification to know what ‘Queen Reefer’ is all about and ‘Outlander’ is dirtier than a post festival wardrobe. So far, so familiar and so very welcome. There is a very Anglo-Saxon sense of humour running through ‘Nightbus Blues’ and its very recognisable tales of that 4am walk home from a session too far will doubtless be familiar to many readers although I’m less sure how well this translates to an international audience.

Those highlights apart, the rest of the album is not quite up to scratch and, as a long time watcher of the band, I worry that this is going to end up as a missed opportunity. Omnisicient Masters is good but it’s not great and I so wanted it to be great. I rate this band; they’ve got a certain something that is genuinely worth championing. I can’t help but think that with a bit more work and a producer like, say, Andy Sneap working with them, we would have had a little bit more judicious editing and a bit more forensic focus on the execution; as it stands, Omniscient Masters is ok when it should have been K.O. Plenty of credit for the experimentation, but points deducted for the execution; a veritable curate’s egg, then. If your curate is a metal head, of course.

 

7.0/10

Desert Storm on Facebook

 

MAT DAVIES

 


Black Star Riders – The Killer Instinct

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There’s a hoary old rock n roll cliché about “notoriously difficult second albums”. You’re already familiar with it. Band makes decent debut. Becomes popular. Drinks or snorts their advance. Makes lazy follow up. Career blown. On The Killer Instinct (Nuclear Blast) the second album from Black Star Riders, the post Thin Lizzy band of rock ‘n’ roll troubadours, the notion of difficult second album is not so much challenged as it is kicked to the ground with disdain. The Killer Instinct is ten tracks of solid, top drawer, feisty rock ‘n’ roll. It’s craftier than a cask of well brewed beer; it is the aural equivalent of a night on the town with your mates just after pay day. It’s absolute class.

Kicking off in glorious, swaggering style with the title track, it is rock business as usual for Ricky Warwick and co. Black Star Riders have a knack of finding a groove and melody with something approaching effortless ease. ‘Bullet Blues’ is even better: a carousing, hustling number, primed and ready for the storming of the barn. ‘Finest Hour’ is an absurdly catchy singalong that will doubtless become a solid addition to the encore part of their live setlist.

It doesn’t let up for a second. The celtic sounds that underscore ‘Soldierstown’ are welcome and infectious while ‘Charlie I Gotta Go’ feels ridiculously familiar even on first listen, a sure sign of supreme song-writing craftsmanship. And, you know what? It’s ALL like this, all the way through. Riffs and choruses are strewn about like confetti at a wedding; it’s not that they don’t care, rather the contrary; you get the sense that they are hitting a creative stride, a purple haze patch, if you will.

This might sound like an odd thing to say but Black Star Riders are an immensely likeable band. There are no airs and graces, no top lip curling arrogance, no I-will-not-tidy-my-bedroom tantrums. It’s not that they are too old for this sort of stuff (they self-evidently are) but actually they understand that the relationship between band and audience is one that should be fostered and never taken for granted. The Killer Instinct is an effortless slice of rock n roll abandon. At the end of the day, the thing about Black Star Riders is they still believe in the fable of being the Last Gang in Town; it’s a gang you want to join too.

Absolute class.

 

8.0/10

Black Star Riders on Facebook

 

MAT DAVIES


Blackberry Smoke – Holding All The Roses

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I have a musical comfort zone. And it’s all the way over there with the Jackson Flying V’s and double-bass drums. It may even include some spandex (not on me, though…) Yet here I am, sitting here, rocking on the porch (sofa), nodding along to the Southern vibes of Atlanta, Georgia’s Blackberry Smoke and their fourth album Holding All The Roses (Earache).  And I’m more than fine with that.

Following the critical and commercial success of The Whippoorwill (Earache/Southern Ground) would have daunting to many bands, but not the Smoke, who shacked up with mega-producer Brendan O’Brien (Pearl Jam, AC/DC, Bruce Springsteen). Any fears that such a hit-maker would sterilize their sound are quickly dispersed by the laidback singalong to ‘Let Me Help You Find The Door’ and it’s rock n’ roll shamble. The title track shuffles in next, picking up the beat, with some clean guitar fingerpicking and a more uptempo come-and-join-us chorus. Whereas the temptation could have been to seek the big bucks and accidentally fall into the trap of producing sanitized radio rock, instead Blackberry Smoke have infused their music with even more of a traditional Southern flavour, and, boy, does it suit.

Blackberry Smoke are no gimmick band, just a class one with their hearts in yesteryear and a love of venerable records, releasing an album full of simple pleasures; of pure, excellent songs. There are many highlights, the pick of which are the two melancholy numbers, the deeper, bluesier ‘Woman In The Moon’, where Charlie Starr’s lazy delivery comes into its own, and ‘No Way Back To Eden’ (a track I’d have been tempted to close the album on), both of which prove the quintet have that added depth all the best have. In amongst the swathes of Creedence Clearwater Revival (and several other subtle references I’m too unschooled to know) ‘Too High’ is wistful country and ‘Rock and Roll Again’ is the sound of the Deep South ripping on Status Quo and Lynyrd Skynyrd’s ‘Call Me The Breeze’, while ‘Payback’s A Bitch’ has a work-shy hook that will infect you like sidewinder venom, as Holding All The Roses unfurls it’s kick-ass blues rock beauty with a smile.

I’ll level. If Blackberry Smoke weren’t on Earache, the chances are high I wouldn’t have been interested in checking them out. Chances are also as good as getting a 7+ on a 15 hand in pontoon we wouldn’t be included them in the hallowed digi-pages of the good ship Ghost Cult without the same, or similar, connection. And we’d have missed out on a warm, chilled out doozy, so hats off to Dig and all concerned for branching out and expanding their traditional net. I’m delighted they did. I’m not going to go off and dive into a whole other musical genre, but I’m glad the Smoke have entered my life and my music collection. They won’t be for everyone who frequents a metal site, but they should be for people who value unassuming good rock songs.

If there is justice out there, the winds will spread the Blackberry pollen far and wide.

 

8.5/10

Blackberry Smoke on Facebook

 

STEVE TOVEY