Отправлено: 14.03.11 10:32. Заголовок: Famous five: Why The..
Famous five: Why The Traveling Wilburys are the ultimate supergroup
By Andy Gill Belfast Telegraph — Tuesday, June 19, 2007
Rock history is brimming with supergroups. But none can match the pedigree of The Traveling Wilburys. As they top the charts yet again, Andy Gill tells the story of the band that’s got the lot One of this year’s more surprising and impressive music-biz successes is surely that of The Traveling Wilburys, whose 2CD/DVD compilation The Traveling Wilburys Collection entered the album chart this week at No 1, outselling the likes of Bon Jovi, Paul McCartney and Queens of the Stone Age, and turfing the lissom R&B diva Rihanna off the top spot. Indeed, it may be the only album this year to reach this level of success without the assistance of MySpace, YouTube or any of the internet-associated aids which, we are constantly told, are vital promotional tools in today’s pop marketplace. But then, what might be on their MySpace site? “Hi kids, we’re The Traveling Wilburys! We’re old enough to be your grandads – in fact, two of us are so old we’re dead, and the rest aren’t feeling too good at the moment. We make the kind of music you probably hate.” Their MySpace friends, however, would number in the hundreds of millions, comprising as they would the combined fan-bases of The Beatles, Bob Dylan, Roy Orbison, ELO and Tom Petty & The Heartbreakers. (Of course, this reissue has sparked both YouTube and MySpace activity, though judging by the usual parade of sad self-publicists who attach themselves to such sites, the Wilburys are not vetting those who claim their friendship.) With hindsight, however, it’s possible to discern the factors underlying the Wilburys’ current success. Since the release of their debut album in 1988, the “dad rock” phenomenon has become a force in music sales as ageing baby-boomers and Sixties kids refused to abandon their interest in rock, bringing the weight of their huge disposable income to bear on both the charts and the media. The rise of mature music magazines such as Mojo, Uncut and The Word has been paralleled even in the staid world of BBC radio by the re-branding of Radio 2 as a sort of Sixties’ oldies station, whose regard for pop heritage and roots is balanced by its eye for what’s currently hip. And The Traveling Wilburys, Vol 1 may be the perfect Radio 2 record, featuring as it does five well-known, respected talents of a certain age, each wielding serious industry clout and historical weight, peddling a bunch of jaunty, singalong songs rooted in the mulch of rock’n'roll heritage and performed with the minimum of synthetic studio assistance and the maximum amount of harmonies that can be crammed into 10 tracks. It’s a sort of Sing Something Simple formula for another generation, except that these Wilburys are also songwriters skilled enough to write new songs that promptly take up residence in one’s memory like old friends, whether you want them to or not. Hearing songs such as “Handle With Care” and “End of the Line” for the first time, many listeners were struck by just how familiar they sounded, as if they were cover versions of classic hits. And of course, in a sense they were: to ears that grew up on Dylan, Orbison, ELO and The Beatles, not to mention the wealth of influences, from Buddy Holly to The Byrds, that course through Tom Petty’s work – their chord changes, intervals, harmonies and melodic tropes tapped into a host of comforting memories, like endorphins slotting into an addict’s neuroreceptors. The result was pure pleasure, unmediated by the constraints of fashion or duty. The album went on to sell some five million copies, making it the most successful “supergroup” album of all time. The pop supergroup has something of a chequered history, which helps to prepare one for the disappointment that often attends the actual music. The idea derives from jazz, where individual players would combine and re-combine in different aggregations for purely exploratory purposes, to see how they might push each other’s performances in new directions. The most famous are probably Miles Davis’s two quintets that aligned the trumpeter with the likes of John Coltrane, Herbie Hancock, Cannonball Adderley and Wayne Shorter, and the great bebop summit of Charlie Parker, Dizzy Gillespie, Bud Powell, Charles Mingus and Max Roach that produced the legendary Massey Hall concert of 1953. The first rock’n'roll supergroup was undoubtedly the impromptu meeting of Elvis Presley, Johnny Cash, Carl Perkins and Jerry Lee Lewis at Sun Studios, the off-the-cuff recordings of which were released under the bullish – but ultimately undervaluing – rubric of The Million Dollar Quartet. Through the Sixties, supergroups hatched, flew briefly and then died, like mayflies seeking mates. Session musicians like Al Kooper and Mike Bloomfield were elevated to serious player status by their “supersession” jams, while authentic stars like Clapton, Baker, Bruce and Winwood became global icons through the success of Cream and the deeply underwhelming Blind Faith project. For a while in the Seventies, Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young were the biggest-selling group in the world. Even the more marginal music genres threw up their own supergroups, most notably the Pentangle aggregation, which combined virtuoso folk guitarists Bert Jansch and John Renbourn with singer Jacqui McShee and the jazz rhythm section of Danny Thompson and Terry Cox. But the rock supergroup quickly became a byword for ego, excess and interminable soloing, most spectacularly in the case of Emerson, Lake & Palmer, a prog-tastic alliance whose stodgy, quasi-classical music filled stadiums, but not souls. With the advent of punk, the supergroup’s days were numbered; the notion became not just musically dubious, but a representation of the morally reprehensible separation of artists from their audiences. Now, as Andy Warhol and Sly Stone had claimed, everybody was a star, and to profess one’s superiority was just about the only form of bad manners recognised by the punk movement. For a decade or so, the supergroup fell out of favour, along with the idea of virtuosity. Outside America, the accent in the Eighties was more on amateurism and unashamed artifice, whether as ironic commentary on the business of pop, or as celebration of its sleek, flimsy surfaces. The only significant supergroup projects were charity one-offs like Band Aid’s ” Do They Know It’s Christmas?”, in which the participants’ names mattered rather more than their musical abilities. Save for the Wilburys, that has remained the case ever since, as each new disaster prompts its own charity record. So, when the Wilburys got together in 1988, few notions were as utterly discredited as that of the supergroup, which may be a contributory reason for the players’ pseudonyms: Nelson (George Harrison), Lucky (Bob Dylan), Lefty (Roy Orbison), Otis (Jeff Lynne) and Charlie T Wilbury Jr (Tom Petty). The group’s genesis came when Harrison was trying to come up with a new B side to “This Is Love”, the single from his Cloud Nine album. He contacted his chum Lynne, who was working with Orbison on the latter’s Mystery Girl album, and persuaded both of them to lend a hand. When George visited Tom Petty to reappropriate a borrowed guitar he wished to use, Petty was roped in, swiftly followed by Dylan. “And so everybody was there,” Harrison recalled later, “and I thought, ‘I’m not gonna just sing it myself, I’ve got Roy Orbison standing there – I’m gonna write a bit for Roy to sing.’ And then as it progressed, I thought I might as well push it a bit and get Tom and Bob to sing the bridge. ” When Warner Brothers head Mo Ostin and A&R chief Lenny Waronker heard the resulting “Handle With Care”, complete with the contributions from George’s heavy friends, they realised that it was too good to languish on the flip side and manoeuvred for an entire album by the group. With all members bar Orbison contributing songs, the album was completed within three weeks in a makeshift studio erected in Dave Stewart’s kitchen in Los Angeles. Its relaxed, genial tone is indicative of the low-pressure nature of the sessions. Harrison’s “Handle With Care” and ” End of the Line” were the obvious standout tracks, both charting as singles. Dylan’s trio of songs highlighted his various strengths: “Congratulations” was a melancholy heartbreak anthem and “Tweeter and the Monkey Man” a typical shaggy-dog-story street-life narrative, while “Dirty World” offered a surprisingly serviceable variation on the standard rock’n'roll automotive sexual metaphor, the tangle-haired bard indulging in saucy flattery such as “You don’t need no wax job/ You’re smooth enough for me” before the rest of the band chipped in their cryptic commendations. Lynne’s production nous ensured that none of the individual players was favoured, and Petty’s talent for cementing styles together proved invaluable throughout. Orbison, meanwhile, was a magisterial presence, his operatic grace lending a classy, high-gloss finish to performances that were, in effect, enthusiastic and affectionate celebrations of the musicians’ roots in rockabilly, hootenanny and skiffle. Like the album packaging and parodic sleevenotes (by “Hugh Jampton, the EF Norti-Bitz Reader In Applied Jacket, University of Krakatoa”, aka George’s Pythonic chum Michael Palin), the band’s name was a light-hearted trifle, deriving from a studio in-joke of Lynne and Harrison’s, referring either to effects devices they dubbed “wilburys”, as in ” trembling wilbury”, or to the use of such devices at a project’s mix-down stage, as in “we’ll bury it in the mix”. Trembling, it was subsequently decided, was a less attractive prospect than Traveling. Advance promotion, meanwhile, was restricted to little more than a few postcards proclaiming “The Traveling Wilburys are coming!” over sepia photos of eccentric modes of transport, an understated campaign that gave no hint of the project’s genealogy, nor its ultimate sales success. Despite the minimal promotional work, and the lack of live performances to support it, the first album shifted five million units, a considerable improvement on the individual members’ flagging sales profiles at that point. A follow-up was unavoidable, but shortly after the debut’s appearance, Roy Orbison died. Rumours that Del Shannon was to replace him proved unfounded, and any prospect was ultimately dashed by the singer’s suicide; in the end, the four remaining Wilburys – now re-named Spike (George), Boo (Bob), Clayton (Jeff) and Muddy (Tom) – dedicated the second album, Vol 3, to their late pal Lefty. This follow-up album was both heavier and more refined than the debut, while the participants were less afraid to damage their individual reputations: Dylan, for instance, incorporated a hilarious scatted refrain in “You Took My Breath Away”, and his doowop-styled “Seven Deadly Sins” employed the same kind of nursery-rhyme counting-song lyrical simplicity that he featured on his contemporary Under The Red Sky album. “Cool Dry Place ” included an offhand reference to Jeff Lynne’s old band The Idle Race, while the opening “She’s My Baby” was by far the toughest item in their slim repertoire. But the lacklustre dance-parody closer “Wilbury Twist” confirmed that the joke was getting rather thin by this point, and Vol 3 proved to be substantially less successful than its predecessor. Until now, that is. With both Wilburys albums having been deleted with what, considering their lineage, seems indecent haste, a groundswell of interest has built up over the subsequent years. George Harrison’s plans to reissue remastered versions of the albums were scuppered by his passing, but his widow Olivia has helped to ensure that his wishes have finally been realised. Ironically, the albums sound less out of step with current trends than they did on their original release, suggesting that the Wilburys have perhaps exerted a much greater influence in the intervening years than had ever seemed likely on their first appearance.
Отправлено: 17.03.11 10:52. Заголовок: Have travel, Wilbury..
Have travel, Wilburys
By Chris Willman Reading Eagle — Friday, November 30, 1990
If respectable, middle-aged rock ‘n’ roll is suddenly enjoying a second childhood, then the Traveling Wilburys are the superstar enfants terrible of the back-to-basics movement, major artists and elder statesmen who’ve joined forces to collectively cast off the onus of artistic sobriety. And proud of it, man. “There’s nothing worse than a serious pop singer,” says Tom Petty, prompting laughter from his fellow bandmates at the table, George Harrison and Jeff Lynne — all Wilburys and each one a convicted Ex-Serious Pop Singer in his own right. Fans who first heard that these three were getting together with fellow rock legends Bob Dylan and Roy Orbison in 1988 to record an alb um might have expected some sort of timely summit from these beacons of several generations. Instead, the Wilburys took the only logical approach that important talents can take in collaboration: serious slumming. A classic of deadpan humor and sly nods to pop tradition, it was more of a barroom battle of the bon mots than a weighty meeting of the minds. Orbison died shortly after the release of the heralded “Vol. 1″ album two years ago, but the four remaining members have recorded a follow-up, purposely misnamed “Vol. 3.” Released in October, it is currently climbing the charts. And, if anything, this delightful and defiantly unimportant album is even rootsier and even cornier than the first one. “You can still say things while you’re lightening up,” Petty says, “But I think we’re all weary of people who come on for an entire LP … and give you the impression that this person is trying to tell you real serious things that they couldn’t possibly have an impact on. A lot of the lyrics that I hear on the radio these days sound pompous. I’m not against people being serious with their work, I just think they have to be careful that it doesn’t come off as pretentious.” The loose, roughneck Wilbury spirit has infected the solo work of its individual members as well. Though it was recorded prior to the Wilburys’ working together, Harrison’s last solo effort, the comeback “Cloud Nine,” showed evidence of a definite lightening of sensibilities — as do Lynne’s “Armchair Theatre” and Petty’s smash hit “Full Moon Fever,” both post-Wilbury releases. And Dylan? One listen to “Wiggle Wiggle” — the leadoff track that treads the fine line between sexual suggestiveness and infantilism — demonstrates beyond the shadow of a doubt that he, too, has succumbed to Wilbury-itis. The three Wilburys on hand for this interview admit that their more serious instincts tend to melt away when they’re around one another. Says Petty, “I think that last album (the Lynne produced “Full Moon Fever”) was more like me, more honest in a lot of ways, than a lot of them I’ve made. I feel like I’m more comfortable being myself than I have been in a while. Because I’ve always had a sense of humor, but I (used to feel) that if I used it, that it would perhaps give the impression that I was throwing away things or just fooling around.” Harrison concurs that working with the Wilburys “gave us a big more freedom than we’d have had individually,” says Harrison. “Well, I’m talking about us three, not really Bob. He always did what he wanted when he wanted all the time.” The first and most obvious question this time around: What happened to “Vol. 2″? “We haven’t made that yet,” quips Harrison. “Is that an obvious enough answer?” The title is indeed probably just an offhand joke — just as the group’s moniker is — though one might speculate that the missing volume could be, by implication, a sort of tribute to the missing Orbison, and what could have been had he lived to record with the group further. In the two years since the release of the first Wilburys album, most speculation centered on whether there would even be a follow-up, and if so, who would replace Orbison in the lineup. Veterans Del Shannon and Roger McGuinn were most often named, perhaps because Lynne produced some tracks for Shannon (who has since committed suicide) and Petty did some studio work with McGuinn. The group dismisses the idea of a need for an Orbison replacement out of hand. Says Petty, “Whoever we worked with after that album was ‘the next Wilbury’” — but only in the imaginations of the press and other onlookers. “It never came from us or Del Shannon or Roger McGuinn.” Harrison maintains that it never occurred to the surviving members to bring someone else in because “we didn’t really bring Roy in. He just happened to be there, you know, and that’s how it came about. So there was no reason to go looking for somebody … I mean, there’s already enough of us, anyway.” Harrison, Petty, and Lynne had all worked together on various projects in the meantime, but the instigation to dig in and begin work on a Wilburys album actually came from Dylan, according to the other members. That’s surprising, because the popular assumption might be that Dylan is the most reluctant Wilbury. Rumor had it that he nearly refused to participate in making the video for “Handle With Care” when the first album came out, and he’s alone among the group in declining to do interviews to support the new album (as is usually the case when it comes to promoting his own albums as well). The image of Dylan as someone who just gets dragged into the process is belied, however, by the fact he easily does the most lead singing of any of the members on “Vol 3.” This fact, pointed out to the other three, gives them a good laugh. “We love to hear Bob sing,” says Petty, chuckling. “It was hard to rub Bob off the track once he sang something, because he’s a really good singer.” Good is in the ear of the beholder, of course, and Dylan’s famed penchant for first-take spontaneity is obvious on “Vol. 3″ as his not-so-smooth pipes stand in enjoyable contrast with the near-perfect “stacks” of vocal harmonies which Lynne (the former mastermind of ELO) is famous for creating. It’s almost like putting the old blues singer who’s crooning for quarters down on the corner in front of the town choir, but it works. “You’re right,” says Harrison, “it sounds like the kind of raggedy Bob, or what you expect is just one-off or a second attempt or something. Then the backing voices smooth it out. That’s quite a good thing, because if Bob wasn’t in it, it’d turn out sounding a little too smooth. He gives that edge to it, the roughness, which is really nice.” Dylan wasn’t the only one who worked spontaneously, though. The entire album was put together in about six weeks — recording and writing. All 11 of the songs were conceived by all four members as a group. The first song recorded, “Inside Out,” was written “within an hour or two of arriving” at Harrison’s private studio for the first session. The rest of the album followed at a similar pace. “That’s one thing we’ve done over both albums — everything was done at a really quick pace,” Petty says, “without much room for second-guessing anything. “It is hard for some people to understand. It would be hard for me to understand if I wasn’t there. Just the whole concept of writing a song with four people sitting there all contributing things at once is not done that often. But for some reason with this combination of people it works, and it’s even enjoyable. I think we’ve all had enough success that we never had any ego conflicts or anything.” The difference from the first album is apparent. Whereas “Vol. 1″ had songs that stood out as individual showcases — “Not Alone Any More” having obviously been crafted as an Orbison ballad, and “Tweeter and the Monkey Man” being in the tradition of Dylan story-songs, for example — it’s much harder to differentiate between members’ roles and functions this time. It’s hard to disagree with Petty when he says that they’ve now “come up with a sound that really sounds like the Wilburys more than any one of us. It’s a group.” Don’t expect to see the Traveling Wilburys actually traveling, though. Harrison and Lynne both hate touring with a passion. The ex-Beatle hasn’t taken his act on the road since 1975, and studio hound Lynne tired of the live circuit with ELO a decade ago. Dylan and Petty are road regulars, but it’s unlikely they’d convert their more reclusive partners to their way of thinking. “No, they all knew that I don’t…” said Harrison, trailing off. “I never liked to tour,” piped in Lynne, a bit more firmly. “So I’m not gonna miss it much if we don’t.”
Отправлено: 12.05.11 09:47. Заголовок: Bob Dylan's Funn..
Bob Dylan's Funniest Songs
Dylan goes for laughs on these five tracks
"Bob Dylan's 115th Dream" (Bringing it All Back Home, 1965) Herman Melville meets Henny Youngman in this frisky tour of American history. Dylan's deadpan comic timing is perfect: "I ordered some suzette / I said, could you please make that crepe?"
"If You Gotta Go, Go Now" (The Bootleg Series Vol. 1-3, 1991) Dylan requests a little girlie action, laughing his way into her pants. In the Philharmonic Hall version from Halloween 1964, he has the crowd rolling in the aisles from the intro ("I have my Bob Dylan mask on") to the final come-on: "I'll be sleeping soon, and it'll be too dark for you to find the door."
"Tweeter and the Monkey Man" (Traveling Wilburys-Volume 1, 1988) When the Traveling Wilburys album came out in 1988, this outrageous self-parody landed on the fan community like a bomb, from the Springsteen jokes to the fact that it beat the crap out of any song he'd put on any of his own albums lately. Rumors that this song inspired the plot of The Big Lebowski have never been confirmed.
"I Want You" (Blonde on Blonde, 1966) Poor Bob – hounded by the ladies, coaxed into their beds, when all he really wants is to get back to ... what was your name again? The final verse where he fumbles for rhymes – "because he liiied, because he took you for a riiide, uh, because time is on his siiiide" – might be his funniest moment ever.
"Po' Boy" (Love and Theft, 2001) The poet of his generation turns into a Borscht Belt stand-up, stealing gags from Groucho Marx ("calls down to room service, says send up a room") and busting out a knock-knock joke. Try the veal, folks – it's so good William Zanzinger ordered seconds!
Отправлено: 12.05.11 12:48. Заголовок: Есть авторский перев..
Есть авторский перевод с битлсру,причем обратите внимание на посвящение автора.
Автор: Серг ЦветкOFF (Ph.D.)
Tweeter and the Monkey Man
Tweeter and the Monkey Man were hard up for cash They stayed up all night selling cocaine and hash To an undercover cop who had a sister named Jan For reasons unexplained she loved the Monkey Man
Tweeter was a boy scout before she went to Vietnam And found out the hard way nobody gives a damn They knew that they found freedom just across the Jersey Line So they hopped into a stolen car took Highway 99
And the walls came down all the way to hell Never saw them when they're standing Never saw them when they fell
The undercover cop never liked the Monkey Man Even back in childhood he wanted to see him in the can Jan got married at fourteen to a racketeer named Bill She made secret calls to the Monkey Man from a mansion on the hill
It was out on thunder road - Tweeter at the wheel They crashed into paradise - they could hear them tires squeal The undercover cop pulled up and said "Everyone of you's a liar If you don't surrender now it's gonna go down to the wire
And the walls came down all the way to hell Never saw them when they're standing Never saw them when they fell
An ambulance rolled up - a state trooper close behind Tweeter took his gun away and messed up his mind The undercover cop was left tied up to a tree Near the souvenir stand by the old abandoned factory
Next day the undercover cop was hot in pursuit He was taking the whole thing personal He didn't care about the loot Jan had told him many times it was you to me who taught In Jersey anything's legal as long as you don't get caught
And the walls came down all the way to hell Never saw them when they're standing Never saw them when they fell
Someplace by Rahway prison they ran out of gas The undercover cop had cornered them said "Boy, you didn't think that this could last" Jan jumped out of bed said "There's someplace I gotta go" She took a gun out of the drawer and said "It's best if you don't know"
The undercover cop was found face down in a field The monkey man was on the river bridge using Tweeter as a shield Jan said to the Monkey Man "I'm not fooled by Tweeter's curl I knew him long before he ever became a Jersey girl"
And the walls came down all the way to hell Never saw them when they're standing Never saw them when they fell
Now the town of Jersey City is quieting down again I'm sitting in a gambling club called the Lion's Den The TV set been blown up, every bit of it is gone Ever since the nightly news show that the Monkey Man was on
I guess I'll go to Florida and get myself some sun There ain't no more opportunity here, everything's been done Sometime I think of Tweeter, sometime I think of Jan Sometime I don't think about nothing but the Monkey Man
And the walls came down all the way to hell Never saw them when they're standing Never saw them when they fell
Ниже следует пропаганда наркотиков, насилия и внебрачных сексуальных связей. Тем, кто считает, что форум – не место для этого: не читать.
Посвящается Sweet Little Qweenie, bk, EVAMARIA и прочим блюстителям ндравствственности.
У Свистуна с Мартыном был с налом напряг Пришлось толкать им план по два бакса за косяк Мусорку, который закосил под блатаря. Его сеструху Яну тер Мартын втихаря.
Свистун был пионером, после угодил в Афган. Там усомнился в вере и пристрастился курить план. Теперь ждала свобода их – лишь руку протяни… Хватай любую тачку и гони, гони, гони…
Стены рухнули С глаз спала пелена Порою жизнь – подарок Только чаще – ни хрена.
Мусорок Мартына еще с детства не любил, Была бы его воля – давно б его убил. В четырнадцать неполных Яна вышла за Бугра, Мартын ходил к ней тайно и уходил в три утра.
Грохот на дороге – Свистун взят в оборот. Он истекает кровью, мусор в мегафон орет: «Еще ребенком был я, а штучки ваши знал. Сдавайтесь, и немедленно, иначе вам хана!»
Стены рухнули С глаз спала пелена Порою жизнь – подарок Только чаще – ни хрена.
По дороге в госпиталь Свистун сумел сбежать Убит им при побеге был конвоир-сержант. А мусор-сука связан и брошен мордой в пыль Быть может, подберет его какой автомобиль…
День следущий. Погоня. Мусор просто взбешен. Прикончить негодяев, наплевать на закон! Сестра ему: учил ты сам меня до сих пор, Что в нашем городишке кто не пойман – не вор!
Стены рухнули С глаз спала пелена Порою жизнь – подарок Только чаще – ни хрена.
Загнали их, как зверя. Сил бежать больше нет. Ржет мусор: «Выпал вам несчастливый билет!» Сестра, вскочив с постели, собирается в путь. Достала револьвер, в барабане – шесть пуль.
…И мусор мордой вниз среди поля лежит, Мартын на мост забрался, держит Свистуна, как щит. Не одурачить Яну париком Свистуна: «Мне и отсюда видно, то что он – не она».
Стены рухнули С глаз спала пелена Порою жизнь – подарок Только чаще – ни хрена.
Все стихло, город скоро позабудет про все. Я в казино играю, только мне не везет. Взорвался телевизор, и обратился в дым От новости, что все еще не схвачен Мартын…
Мне кажется, что скоро я покину этот край, Сменяю этот климат на приморский рай. О Свистуне я думаю, о Яне иногда И только о Мартыне я не вспомню никогда…
Отправлено: 12.05.11 18:27. Заголовок: Надо как следует обм..
Надо как следует обмозговать этот текст: много жаргона и отсебятины. Неизменна только сама криминальная ситуация. Вообще по стилю больше напоминает русский шансон в исполнении Шуфутинских и пр.
Отправлено: 19.05.11 10:14. Заголовок: Music Review: The Sw..
Music Review: The Sweetback Sisters - Looking For A Fight
Like a pair of luxurious soft cashmere socks for your ears, the silky vocal harmonies of Emily Miller and Zara Bode are a decadent treat.
The Sweetback Sisters are a group of very uniquely talented musicians whose personal histories are quite varied, diverse and definitely not your typical country music pedigrees. But when they come together on a song, hoo boy it's magic; you'd think they'd been playing together since they were babies (shh, their home base these days is Brooklyn).
With a new album coming out on May 31, courtesy of Signature Sounds Records, entitled Looking For A Fight, the band is sure to woo a huge new fan base. Heck, you don't even have to like the Nashville sound to enjoy this funky pairing of country roots and rockabilly retro. Says Bode: "Sometimes what we deliver is straight out of the '50s; other times it's BR549 meets The B52s."
Think "Indigo Girls Meet Sweethearts of the Rodeo and Get Possessed by the Ghost of Patsy Cline While Riding Shot Gun with Bob Wills in a 1939 Ford Pickup," or even "Dale Evans With Attitude and Swagger" and you might be closer to a description of the band's special sound.
For obvious reasons, the Sweetback Sisters' rendition of Laurie Lewis' "Texas Bluebonnets" is a winner for me, as is the original song by Emily Miller, "Run Home and Cry," with its jaunty down home humourous lyrics and finger-snapping melody.
One track was unexpected: "Rattled," which some of you Traveling Wilburys fans will recognize. The band's take on this favorite tune is more retro and more rockabilly style than the '80s version of the original recording. It's a great interpretation by The Sweetback Sisters.
Looking For A Fight has another delight in store for you: The tunes were recorded on analogue tape with vocals sung around an RCA 44 ribbon mic. All this throwback technology is industry-wide known for producing the richest, most pleasing sound of recorded music. Perfect combination for this soulful, yet edgy band.
This CD will be played a lot around our house and on long road trips. It's fun and easy listening with just the right icing of nostalgia on songs your mother should know. Hmm Hmm good.]
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Отправлено: 25.10.09 10:30. Заголовок: ЛЕНТА НОВОСТЕЙ СТРАНСТВУЮЩИХ УИЛБУРИС (продолжение)
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