Brent Cobb “Shines On” In LP Debut

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Country music is such a funny thing. Mention it to the average person and odds are they’ll either wrinkle up their nose at you in disgust, or name a favorite artist. The odds also state that favorite artist is probably from the list of Nashville industry regulars who made the first person do all that nose-wrinkling in the first place, which is really quite the interesting phenomenon.

Rarely can I think of a genre that either inspires so much blind love of retread stereotypes, or blind hate of a style that’s way more than meets the eye. For every Toby Keith or Brad Paisley there’s a Jason Isbell and Sturgill Simpson out there folks, and for every trailer park-loving, beer-swilling, tractor-obsessed milquetoast songwriter…. there’s another out there stabbing at their own heart just so you can listen to it bleed.

Isbell and Simpson are just two examples of that along with many others (The Lone Bellow, Chris Stapleton, and Ryan Adams when he still cared about country music to name a few). But today I’d like to focus on a young Southern artist who much like Stapleton paved his initial way as a songwriter before bringing his quiet, rough-around-the-edges style to his first major label LP.

And while I can’t say if this album is going to turn out as well for him as Traveller did for Stapleton, regardless it’s a pleasure to welcome Brent Cobb and Shine On Rainy Day into the world here in 2016. Cobb is another break of blue light in the cloud bank of business as usual in the industry of country music. He is every bit the soft-spoken, pastorally-minded singer-songwriter who may not dominate a room vocally, but still captivates it in just his debut the way guys like Kris Kristofferson and Willie Nelson have their whole careers.

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Just listening to Cobb’s songs (led by his accent-heavy minimalist croon) is like taking a step back in time to the beauty of early country and folk music and what made them tick. I mean before there was “She Thinks My Tractor’s Sexy” there was “She Thinks I Still Care” after all. There was “Sunday Morning Coming Down”. There was the real time honest sentiment from both male and female artists that made country music so relatable, because so much of it was just about the strong emotions tying us to our day to day existence.

And when it comes to Cobb, he eagerly joins the club that keeps their eye firmly fixed on that keyhole of a mentality. Take the title track for instance, which incorporates a basic backing arrangement and leaves all the soul-stopping up to just Cobb’s vocals and lyrics alone. The song forces you to take notice, feeling as fresh as today yet as priceless as a 1960’s era masterpiece B-side you find abandoned in a stack of old vinyl.

It’s certainly not alone in that regard. “Solving Problems” is an easygoing toe-tapping strummer that would get along well with the songwriting of Isbell and Josh Ritter, while “Country Bound” has all the sepia-washed innocence of a walk through the woods listening to John Denver songs.  Pair that with the strength of tracks like “South Of Atlanta” and “Diggin Holes”, and you’ve got a record that’s already preparing to blast into the stratosphere of the next generation of country music artists.

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Add the fact Cobb teamed up with country music super producer cousin Dave Cobb on this one, and Shine On Rainy Day has got a little bit of everything your roots loving heart could ask for. A little cheatin’, a little bleedin’, a little done me wrong, with a slice of a heart born as a result of living through the world as garnish on the side.

You know, just a few of the problems of the world. And that’s nothing to wrinkle your nose at.

Snider Emerges With Brilliant “Bulldog” Of A New Solo Album

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Todd Snider has always been a musician who simply seemed to let conventional labels slide off of him like oil to water. He is a folk singer yes, but he’s also been a rocker, a country crooner, a stoned out hippie jam band leader, and a storyteller not expecting to be around long so it’s time to party fast and party hard.

He’s a novelist, a comedian, a joker, a smoker, and a midnight toker. That last bit was just a Steve Miller Band lyric, but you see what I’m getting at here.

The point is, Snider has been around long enough to be able to call the shots his own way. Already this year (back in March) his jam band Hard Working Americans released the superb Rest In Chaos, an LP of nearly all original material. It saw the band evolving from a simple fun-loving cover group into a unit that not only SOUNDED tighter, but felt like it as well. It didn’t hurt that Snider brought along some of his best (and most openly vulnerable) songwriting too following a messy divorce and a lot of personal unrest swirling around in his own life.

Now: enter Eastside Bulldog. It’s classified as the first solo album for Snider in four years following 2012’s Agnostic Hymns & Stoner Fables, although technically the honors go to Elmo Buzz for this one. Buzz is the alter ego Snider concocted years before to play shows in Nashville when contractual obligations would have otherwise prevented it, while Eastside Bulldog is a band name/now album title that came from the school mascot Snider made up to represent his home of East Nashville.

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If Rest In Chaos was top notch blues/acid rock cut with a fair dosage of levity and wit, Eastside Bulldog is it’s sloppy drunk cousin after finishing a joint and a stack of rockabilly records. It’s Snider at his screwball finest as he and his band of Bulldogs plow through lyrics made up on the spot, all while trying to play in the style of recordings like “Louie Louie” and “Wooly Bully”.

On paper, it’s the type of arrangement that seems almost destined to be a highly uneven mess (or just an all out trainwreck). But this is Todd Snider we’re talking about, and I highly doubt there’s an artist more qualified to not only come up with such a scenario after being given free studio time, but to make it into something worth listening to.

And Bulldog more than delivers on that. With it’s blasts of saxophone, funky Jerry Lee Lewis pianos and party-like reckless abandon, the album is flat out one of the most entertaining pieces of music in 2016. Not because of it’s precision or a lengthy lyrical monologue on the human condition, but just because it’s a damn fun time wrapped into a turbo-sped 25 minutes of stoned out Buddy Holly-esque good time rock n roll.

Bulldog makes you feel like you’re right in the room with a group of people who are just clearly enjoying the hell out of playing music. And honestly, amidst all the Pitchfork reviews and critical album darlings that emerge in this era of music, it’s important to not to forget what makes it all so fun (and not so serious) in the first place.

So sit back, relax and crack open a cold one. It’s time to get down with “The Funky Tomato”, and Eastside Bulldog.

Grade: A

Standout Tracks: “Ways And Means”, “Enough Is Enough”, “37206”, “Come On Up”

Loveless Looks For “Real” On Latest LP

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I always appreciate new female voices in the world of country and rock music. Not because they’re a relatively uncommon staple, but more due to the fact music’s modern standard for talent takes something more to really cement to my ears. There are so many voices struggling to be heard and sold in this internet-heavy age, and it takes patience to sift through what the radio and the music press just won’t tell you about.

Luckily, I’ve been extremely fortunate to hear as well as make friends with some tremendously badass ladies in the industry who’ve not only redefined the bar…. they’ve set it high. And the latest to pole vault those expectations has been none other than young country rocker Lydia Loveless and her latest album Real.

Real is the 5th release for Loveless since 2010, which makes her feel like a well-tread veteran singer songwriter at this point in her career while still only being 26 years old. Despite her age though, the “veteran” label feels appropriate as Loveless is one of those talents who sounds a good few decades older just by the way she sings. It’s a rare pleasure to bear witness to, but worth every second as she makes you feel every mile she’s put on her vocal cords and into every lyric she’s written.

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Take the heartbreaking Real track “Out On Love” for instance. It’s a slow burning flame of a song that never gets above low heat in it’s arrangement, but roars with a terrible, wrenching vocal passion until it erupts in one last final cadence of cathartic release. Loveless channels her best Americana’d Gothic Stevie Nicks drawl here in a way the legendary Fleetwood Mac frontwoman could certainly appreciate, as she’s made tracks like “Rhiannon” timeless for much the same natural ability.

Though Loveless (much like Nicks) doesn’t just dwell in the arena of painful balladry. Real opening track “Same To You” is like putting Jewel and Gillian Welch through a country rock blender circa the Ryan Adams Whiskeytown era, mixing in thumping bass with a hearty hook, and hitting juice. While “Midwestern Guys” is a mixture of The Replacements, toe-tapping 90’s alt-rock, and a raw narrative on people from Loveless’s little town who weren’t lucky enough to make it out of a hectically wild youth.

The production style does hit heavier on the slick, pop side of the fence and is certainly more restrained than prior releases like Indestructible Machine. To me, that feels like both a good and bad thing. There are moments I feel like Real should let things fly a bit further, but it also brings a level of measured maturity that Machine didn’t quite possess with it’s Uncle Tupelo-esque country punk flying by the seat of it’s pants.

Regardless, Loveless excels in a big way here that’s certainly got my attention.

Keep an eye on this girl. She may have come a long way already, but something tells me her best is still yet to come.

Grade: B

Standout Tracks: “Out On Love”, “Longer”, “Same To You”, “Real”

“Sonic Highways” Equals Highway Robbery for Music Fans

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So yesterday afternoon I made a video for Youtube (the link to which should now be found here: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UC-X7IjpNLVg8OpeoqML38pQ) praising Dave Grohl and his band the Foo Fighters for upcoming studio LP “Sonic Highways”. To briefly sum up that video, I saw the ever-vigilant Fighters of Foo take on late night television Monday night with Zac Brown (of the Zac Brown Band) for a scalding rendition of the Black Sabbath classic “War Pigs”. That then inspired some deep musical introspection into the inner workings of “Highways”, it’s music (8 songs in 8 separate studios) and the 8-part HBO miniseries that’ll be accompanying the buzz starting this week all the way until release day. I then proceeded to rave about Grohl’s work (that I have yet to fully see) on prior documentary “Sound City” , and how the teaser for the miniseries seems to be a heavenly collection of artists, interviews, and a look at music through the wide lens of culture that was not to be missed.

Not to spoil the video or anything, but I get pretty excited about it.

And while I’m still highly intrigued by the concept and overall hype of “Sonic Highways”, my enthusiasm has been somewhat dimmed by the worst part of the music business. Namely, that of being the consumer. Because while it may still be fun to talk about this kind of deeply thoughtful endeavor, the price tag that comes with OWNING an actual piece of it…. is a separately baffling story.

You see I took a little visit to Foofighters.com last night to look into preorders for the new album, and found shipping rates that could only be described as a hideous level of greedy. Even the simplest items like LP’s and CD’s were nearly doubled in total price, and as a frequent shopper of online vinyl it’s a rare day that I see a $23 record come tacked on with a $20 shipping rate. And while I’m sure someone somewhere might try to raise the old protest of “higher quality shipping methods protect delicate product”, the band and anyone associated with putting this out ought to be ashamed of how it’s been done.

It’s a disrespect and a disservice of fans both casual and loyal, fans who might want to give a band they love or respect money for what they’ve created that will now be driven away to Amazon or other retailers due to these steep prices. And while some of those retailers might be independent record stores so desperately deserving of the customers, the point is it’s not good or fair business. I don’t care if you offer up the Christ-like locks of Grohl himself as some sort of demented Wonka-esque golden ticket, the moment a die hard Foo Fighters fan hands over even MORE of a hard-earned paycheck to a very successful band doing arena tours just to pay shipping…. is the moment you’ve done wrong by the people that helped land you where you are in the first place.

I don’t about you, but I’d prefer to take my chances in the world of the retailers and save my money for the bands and labels that do right by the customers that love them. And while I certainly know I’ll still listen to the music of “Sonic Highways” and appreciate whatever it may be (or not), this aspect is nothing short of a disappointment.

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