'Round the Dial
Wednesday 16 July @ 11:15:04 |
 by Tom Hallett
QUOTE OF THE WEEK: “We never sold millions of albums, but we did try to get a toehold. We did always plan on holding out, on making music we could put our names on. I’d like to think we never put out any real dogs, and that we never joined up, and that we got in some good licks, and played some music that will last and be remembered.” —Levon Helm, The Band
SONG OF THE WEEK: “Would I Be Happy Then?” —Jack Logan
What do you get when you cross two Mammy Nuns, all of Spikedriver, and one crazy, guitar/fiddle-playin’ singer/songwriter who calls himself “Bing”? I mean besides a foot-stompin’, barnstormin’, drunken hootenanny? Why, you get The Rogue States, of course. Driven by the powerhouse combo of guitarist David Hazledine, bassist Andrew Summersby, drummer Tim Hovanitz, and keyboard whiz Andy Crowley, “Bing’s” Americana-inflected uber-folk songs are transported to new and dizzying musical heights, as evidenced by the band’s performance at the CD release party for their debut album, Flag Day (2003 Pet Entertainment), last Wednesday at St. Paul’s Turf Club.
Though Hazledine, Crowley, and “Bing” had collaborated on the majority of the songs featured on the new release (along with producer Rich Mattson, Mammies drummer Andy Deckard, ex-Manitoba skinman/Lifestyle Of Wigs frontman Max Edwards, bassist Ted Vig, and vocalist Yvonne Bruner), this gig was a bit of a test, in a way, for Summersby and Hovanitz, who’d contributed to just four of the 12 tracks during the sessions. And lemme tellya, they passed with flying colors (no flag pun intended).
After a brief period of collective “thought-gathering” and chugs off cold brews, the outfit gelled into a tough, hearty unit as they ran through the dozen tracks from Flag Day. Staying remarkably true to the record’s in-the-moment feel (thanks, in no small part, to producer/soundguy Mattson), and sparked by Hazledine’s absolutely blistering blues/rawk axework, “Bing” successfully brought across his sometimes curious, always interesting story/songs with all the panache and style of his late namesake.
Well, that is until he picked up his fiddle and bow and proceeded to scritch and saw himself into a leg-shaking frenzy that woulda made Ol’ Scratch himself cackle with delight. Not exactly a Crosby family moment, but what a fucking joy to hear and behold, I tell you what. Actually, other than a slightly awkward moment while “Bing” briefly left the stage to a slightly taken aback Hazledine with the order, “Dave! Tell a joke!” (kudos to Mr. Crowley for adding super-pro comedy club-style keyboards while the guitarist grinned his way through, “A pirate comes into a bar with a steering wheel down his pants. The bartender says, hey, you got a steering wheel down your pants. And the guy says, ‘Ar! I know, it’s drivin’ me nuts!’”), this show went off about as hitch-free as a young band could ask for.
Of particular interest live were the cuts “Material World,” a dreamy, loping jangler about love and superficiality with jarring lines like, “I saw you last night/I’m gonna saw you in half tonight...” and, “When we woke up today/We were made of wood...” “The Pass,” a starry-night, campfire-light anthem that comes mighty close to the musical and lyrical genius of producer Mattson’s work with The Glenrustles and Ol’ Yeller, “Rupert Pupkin,” a dark, fiddle-augmented romp that combines the stump-preacher fury of Sixteen Horsepower and the lyrical complexity of Palace Brothers head honcho Will Oldham, and “Hoping Machine,” a gorgeous, keyboard-driven ballad inspired by an unfinished Woody Guthrie tune. All in all, a damn tasty display of musical diversity and genre-busting stage work—and though “Bing” himself may be a shadowy, elusive figure with some as-yet-unknown plan to conquer the universe and clone his long-dead namesake so he can take David Bowie’s place and re-shoot that cheesy video for “The Little Drummer Boy,” he sure can pick a band, man. Flag Day is available at Roadrunner Records, and you can find out more about The Rogue States at w.petentertainment.net.
We all know what a bitch it is for quality, from-the-hip artists to claw their way through the corporate muck and get the attention of the lackadaisical American record-buying public, but I’ve got a feeling these cats are going to tear some shit up over the next couple years. We can hope, anyway, right? I guess “Bing” puts it best in “Hoping Machine”: “A human being is a hoping machine/Every scene is my best scene/Every dream is our best dream...You can get up on the stage/You can shout out all your rage/You can get up above the crowd/If you could only make an audible sound....” Amen, brother “Bing,” amen. That’s it for this week, kids—until next time, make yer own damn news.
If you have local music news/gigs/events that you’d like to see listed in this column, or you’d just like to complain that your hoping machine has shorted out, send replies to: TMygunn777@aol.com.
|
|
 |
|
