Friday, July 3, 2026

Archive Review: The Ramones’ Acid Eaters (1993)

The Ramones’ Acid Eaters
When the generally useless Guns ‘N’ Roses went to the well to draw forth an album of covers to record, they turned mostly to 1970s-era punk and metal in illustrating their somewhat shallow roots. Even though bands like the Damned, Fear, and the Germs produced some great music, the first rule in remaking a song is to improve upon it; failing that, honor it by playing it as close to the original as possible. G’N’R did neither, instead merely coming across as tired poseurs cranking out an album to meet contractual obligations.

The Ramones’ Acid Eaters


Now along comes Acid Eaters, the Ramones’ entry into this covers circus. That the foursome from Queens should do an album of cover tunes should really come as no surprise to longtime fans of the band. It certainly came as no surprise to this critic – the handful of brief interviews that I’ve had with frontman Joey Ramone have always degenerated into drunken discussions of old records. That Joey, et al should reach into their record collections and pull out such a handful of musical gems is a testimony not only to their collective tastes, but also to the hidden talents of a band most often dismissed as ‘one dimensional.’

Whereas the aforementioned chart idols predictably championed the ‘70s as their main musical influence, the Ramones turn to the ‘60s godfathers and forebears of punk for their cover selections, including on Acid Eaters a number of expected choices and more than a few pleasant surprises. There’s really not a bad cut to be found on Acid Eaters, as the Ramones provide their typical edge and three-chord manic energy to such oldies as the Who’s “Substitute,” the Stones’ obscurity “Out of Time,” or Love’s “7 and 7 Is.” 

Quite surprising is the inclusion of John Fogerty’s CCR classic, “Have You Ever Seen the Rain,” a Byrds-influenced rendition of Dylan’s “My Back Pages,” and an inspired nod to the Animals with Eric Burdon’s “When I Was Young.” Covers of the Yardbirds, the Amboy Dukes (the 17-year-old Ted Nugent’s first band), the Beach Boys, Jefferson Airplane, the Troggs, and Sky Saxon round out Acid Eaters.

The Reverend’s Bottom Line


At its best, recording an album of other people’s songs should showcase an artist’s roots, the influences that served in creating his or her own work. At its worst, an album of covers still managed to introduce young fans to the work of older artists. With Acid Eaters, the Ramones accomplish both, and do it well, opening new musical doors for its young listeners even while the band pays their respects to their elders and peers. No higher praise could be given... (Radioactive Records, released December 1st, 1993)

Review originally published by R.A.D! zine, March 1994

The Ramones photo by Danny Clinch, courtesy Fox Broadcasting
The Ramones photo by Danny Clinch, courtesy Fox Broadcasting

 

Monday, June 29, 2026

Archive Review: Psychic TV’s Hex Sex (1994)

Psychic TV’s Hex Sex

By now, all of you certainly know the story – Throbbing Gristle, the artistic progenitors of Psychic TV, created the genre of industrial music back during the seventies punk era. Since their subsequent founding in 1982, Psychic TV has further supported and influenced the industrial style, infusing it with elements of Crowley and the occult, primitive ritual and ancient mythology and an anarchistic spirit. Fifteen years down the road, however, and look where it’s gotten us...the original focus of industrial music has been lost as apocalyptic pop stars grace the Top 40.

Lost among the many musical achievements of PTV is one startling truth, however, that you may not know, or don’t realize: Psychic TV may be a lot of things, but first and foremost, they’re a great pop band. That said, let’s move on to the proof: Hex Sex, the first of two discs collecting the cream of PTV’s prolific output of 7” and 12” singles. Relegated to cult status on this side of the pond, PTV has nonetheless had a healthy ride upon the British charts, and most of those hits can be found here. 

From the band’s energetic reworking of the Beach Boys’ “Good Vibrations” to their passionate ode to the late Rolling Stone Brian Jones, “Godstar”; from the brutal exclamation of “Eve of Destruction” to their orgasmic rendering of “Je T’aime” or original, more experimental cuts like “Supermale” or “Magick Defends Itself,” Psychic TV have defined the cutting edge of creativity. 

At their best, Psychic TV will make you rethink what you know and believe about music, society and yourself; at their worst, PTV is still artistically exciting. Hex Sex is a fine documentary of some of the band’s more accessible moments...which is not to say that these cuts won’t draw blood. This is 21st century pop for those unafraid to look into the abyss, and should be treated as such. (Cleopatra Records, released 1994)

Review originally published by R.A.D! zine, March 1994

Psychic TV
Psychic TV

 

Friday, June 26, 2026

Archive Review: Nik Turner’s Sphynx (1993)

In the early ‘70s, as part of the legendary and influential British band Hawkwind, Nik Turner frequently explored the outer reaches of human consciousness, both musically and lyrically, taking the listener on an aural journey to strange lands that mixed science fiction, fantasy and magick in creating a truly surreal landscape. Hawkwind’s legacy can be found in many of today’s top experimental artists, from The Orb to Psychick TV. Since those heady days, the enigmatic Turner has expressed himself equally as tantalizingly through bands like Sphynx and Inner City Unit. With Sphynx, the album (no connection to his earlier band), Turner’s first recording in seven years, he continues down a similar path, transporting us musically to an ancient Egypt full of mystery.

With a band that includes a former Hawkwind mate, guitarist Helios Creed, Turner has created a truly amazing musical reality. This 70-minute sojourn will take you across the desert sands to the Great Pyramid, with proper attention and homage paid to the old gods Anubis, Isis, and Osiris along the way. Through timeless invocations and poetic sacrifice, Turner has made Sphynx a beautiful tapestry of otherworldly psychedelia, hallucinogenic rhythms, synthesized sound, and cold chrome guitar riffs. It is an invigorating, mind-expanding journey, a complex and exciting experience that you’ll want to delve into again and again, as the music and your imagination both come alive in a blur of color and reality. (Cleopatra Records, released 1993) 

Review originally published by R.A.D! zine, December 1993

Monday, June 22, 2026

Archive Review: Meat Loaf’s Bat Out of Hell II: Back Into Hell (1993)

Meat Loaf’s Bat Out of Hell II: Back Into Hell
Some 16 years ago, an unknown vocalist by the name of Meat Loaf, fresh from a stint with Ted Nugent’s mid-’70 Free For All band, hooked up with a songwriter named Jim Steinman and recorded what was destined to become a rock classic: the Bat Out of Hell album. Critics hated it with a passion, but to an American audience sick of watered-down rock ‘n’ roll, disgusted with disco and unfamiliar with the punk stirrings a continent away, Bat Out of Hell – with its bombastic, guitar-driven tales of young lust, alienation, and romance – was bigger than life. The album has been a consistent best seller since its 1977 release.

After a much publicized and highly public split, Steinman went on to write a handful of hits for artists like Bonnie Tyler, while Meat Loaf recorded a bunch of albums (some good, some not so good) in a battle against obscurity. To the benefit of an audience still starved for the real rock thing, the duo has reunited to create a sequel to one of the most enduring albums in rock history.

Slapping Bat Out of Hell II: Back Into Hell onto the CD player is like being 19 again. This is the elusive pulse of rock ‘n’ roll, that hard-to-capture spirit of the music and all of its promise that makes Bat Out of Hell II and its predecessor work so well. It’s like trying to tell a stranger about rock ‘n’ roll – if they don’t get it, chances are, they never will. This disc is loud, overblown, and exaggerated, but it’s also got more hooks than a Bassmasters tournament and it rocks like a house afire. Even as history repeated itself and critics slagged Bat Out of Hell II, it shot straight up to number one upon its release.

The world is a different place than 1977, though, and this sequel reflects the urgency and identity of the decade. The cynicism of “Life Is A Lemon and I Want My Money Back,” the erotic fantasies of “Out of the Frying Pan (and Into the Fire),” the confusion of “It Just Won’t Quit” all play to a different time and place. It’s the two key cuts here, however – the idealistic, decade-old “Rock and Roll Dreams Come Through” and “Wasted Youth/Everything Louder Than Everything Else” – that serve as the youthful anthems around which all else revolves. It’s the energy, the hope provided by these songs, and in rock music, that attracts the audience. It’s what Meat Loaf does best. It may be better to burn out than to fade away, and I’m glad that Meat Loaf captured the chance to burn brightly again. (MCA Records, released 1993)

Review originally published by R.A.D! zine, December 1983

Friday, June 19, 2026

Archive Review: Copernicus’s No Borderline (1993)

Some say that he is a madman, others a genius. I personally prefer the latter, viewing Copernicus as one of those great eccentrics that rock ‘n’ roll has a tendency to spawn and nurture, a crazed artist working on a plane distinctly above our own. It’s up to us to rise to his level, not expect him to lower himself to ours.

“Few men have imagination enough for reality,” is the quote from Goethe which graces the back cover of No Borderline, the fifth, and possibly the most oblique and confusing Copernicus album yet. Copernicus chants poetry like some tribal shaman, his deep baritone voice delivering mesmerizing stream-of-consciousness-styled lyrics that are backed by an amazingly diverse combination of musical styles, from progressive rock to avant-garde jazz. The ten cuts presented here aren’t so much songs, as one would expect them, but rather the many separate glimmering facets of the same musical gem. 

They are best taken as a whole, the experience anything but passive as the listener is pulled into a fantasy world of Copernicus’ creation. I’ll leave it up to each individual to reach a sort of understanding as to the underlying message of No Borderline. Suffice it to say that Copernicus is that rarest of creatures, a true visionary, playing by rules of his own making on a field of his own imagination. (Nevermore Records, released 1993)

Review originally published by R.A.D! zine, October 1993

Copernicus

 

Friday, June 12, 2026

Archive Review: Sepultura’s Chaos A.D. (1993)

Sepultura’s Chaos A.D.
With Chaos A.D., Sepultura lay claim to being the baddest thrash outfit on the planet, delivering an album so awesomely full of monster riffs and rhythms that you’ll have to reinforce the floors and walls before playing it at a truly appropriate volume. Singer Max Cavalera’s muscular vocals are supported by a gifted trio of musicians, from the ringing guitars of six-string maniac Andreas Kisser to the rhythm section of bassist Paolo Jr. and drummer Igor Cavalera. Together, this Brazilian quartet make some of the toughest, meanest music to be found in any rock style today.

Underlying and often overshadowed by Sepultura’s powerful music is their lyrical subversion. Brazil’s best-known export are also musical freedom fighters, guerilla poets using their words as weapons to showcase the ills of a world gone mad. Thrash is a music made for political commentary, and Sepultura utilize it to its fullest, breathing passion and fire into songs like the apocalyptic “Refuse/Resist,” the violent “Manifest” or the haunting world-view of the Jello Biafra-penned “Biotech Is Godzilla.” 

The wonderful instrumental “Kaiowas,” inspired by a Brasilian Indian tribe who committed suicide rather than be oppressed by the powers of authority, provides a welcome break in the fury. Most of Chaos A.D. is appropriately unrelenting, however, with Andy Wallace’s fine production brightening the already sharp instrument that is Sepultura. If the band’s last album, Arise, was their big breakthrough, then Chaos A.D. is their destiny. (Roadrunner/Epic Records, released 1993)

Review originally published by R.A.D! zine, December 1993

Monday, June 8, 2026

Archive Review: Elliott Murphy’s Unreal City (1993)

Elliott Murphy’s Unreal City
This was released several months ago, the return of singer/songwriter Elliott Murphy to these shores, and it’s been growing on me, nagging me to review it ever since I got it. It keeps returning to the CD player, each new spin offering some new insight or phrase that I missed the first time out. Murphy lives up to every claim ever made for him as a songwriter, an artist so poetically gifted that he throws away lines that lesser writers would base entire works on.

In the way of background, after a handful of under-hyped, under-appreciated late ‘70s/early ‘80s albums, which earned massive amounts of critical acclaim heaped upon near-total commercial failure, Murphy split to find some respect and mystery in Europe. Unreal City is a diary, of sorts, of the past decade’s adventures. Each song on Unreal City tells a story, presenting a lyrical postcard of a place, a memory, an emotion...

An artist in paradise, Murphy is following the trail of such literary greats as Fitzgerald or Hemingway. He remains unsure of himself, however, as on “Destiny,” when he sings “thought I was a romantic/when I crossed the Atlantic/ but that didn’t change the tide/but that’s a different story/in the search for love and glory/there’s no place left to hide...” Much of the album possesses a dark shadow to it, with lonliness and mortality often explored. On the haunting “On Elvis Presley’s Birthday,” Murphy remembers his childhood, his late father, and uses Elvis as an icon of both, singing “driving in his Cadillac/it was Elvis Presley’s birthday/they said it on the radio/my father liked Elvis and it was wonderful.” The song sadly ends, though, with the verse, “this is an unreal city/you can be anybody you want to be/when you’re alone.” It speaks to the memories which fuel the dreamer in each of us.

Through all of the travels presented on Unreal City, the joy and the tears, the acute observations on love and life, it is the birth of his son in Paris, inspiring the writing of the album’s closer, “Let It Rain,” which brings this sojourn full-circle. “Ever since I was a child,” begins Elliott, “my manner described as mild/it was always too late to estimate/the force of the hurricane blowing in my head.” He ends this opus of faith renewed, and, indeed, the album’s story, by denying the fates their victory. In joy he sings, “I believe in love/I believe in birth/I believe in giving something back to the earth...so let it rain.” It is as powerful an affirmation of life as has been written, by one of the rock genre’s most talented yet unknown artists. (Razor & Tie Music, released 1993) 

Originally published by R.A.D! zine, October 1993

Also on That Devil Music: Elliott Murphy’s Notes From the Underground CD review

Friday, June 5, 2026

CD Review: Sour Ops’ Bikers Make Better Lovers (2026)

Sour Ops’ Bikers Make Better Lovers
Decades ago, before corporate radio mergers created a handful of ginormous  broadcast inanities playing homogenized – and creatively neutered – playlists, listening to your local FM radio station was an adventure. I remember sitting in my bedroom during the early-to-mid-‘70s, listening to the local Nashville rock station WKDF-FM every night, where you could hear a wonderful blend of the commercial giants of the time (Zeppelin, Stones, Deep Purple, Sabbath, et al) played alongside lesser-known but incredible artists (Audience, Humble Pie, Osibisa, Mott the Hoople). 

Nashville rockers Sour Ops remind me a lot of those days, with the band’s enthusiastic embrace of the old and new, and their savvy ability to blend the two into something both timely and yet timeless. Bikers Make Better Lovers is the band’s follow-up to 2024’s delightful Evangeline and their fifth album overall (plus the perfectly cromulent five-song EP Tinder Flame), the Sour Ops not-so-quietly building as impressive a catalog of music as any of their Music City contemporaries and, really, any indie rockers across America.

Sour Ops’ Bikers Make Better Lovers


Bikers Make Better Lovers cranks off with the swirling, synthy ‘80s action movie vibe of “Opting Out” before launching into chiming guitars, cascading rhythms, and frontman Price Harrison’s soaring vocals. Harrison’s oblique lyrics are an enigma wrapped in a soundtrack (seems to be about a romance gone sideways), and the song’s melody will get under your skin from the first note. Harrison’s short guitar solo buzzes like an angry beehive but cuts like a thousand stings while the rest of the band pitches a perfectly joyful noise. Even the lofty backing vox, dancing atop shards of guitar and bass, embellish the song in ways beyond nuance.

“Problem Number Next” follows a similar musical blueprint, albeit with more “wall of sound” instrumental density, drums and bass providing a solid rhythmic backdrop atop which Harrison delivers one of his shortest, shocking, Sonny Sharrock-styled solos. The band’s melodic sense is unparalleled, every tune an infectious mix buoyant pop and erudite rock ‘n’ roll in nearly equal measures, and perfectly suited for FM radio airplay (or would be, if radio wasn’t such a wasteland…). The new wavish ‘80s enchantment of “The Power of Right Now” leans towards the British rock of the era, but still incorporates enough U.S. college radio influence to play to both sides of the fence. Harrison’s use of a Theremin on the song results in an abrasive solo that veers hard towards the psychedelic ‘60s.

The semi-anthemic “She’s So Strange” is a big-beat hard rocker with clamorous instrumentation, vocals that shoot out of the dark like a poison arrow, and an overall chaotic soundtrack that would win a switchblade fight with the Jesus & Mary Chain. The romantic kiss-off of “Made of Lies” is made all the more impactful by Steve Ebe’s massive drumbeats and Tony Frost’s foundational bass lines while “Gym Bro” benefits from the song’s overall, free-for-all cacophony, with clashing, crashing instruments vying for position beneath Harrison’s cool vocals.

All That Matters Now


If Bikers Make Better Lovers was pressed on vinyl (kids: another 1970s/’80s reference), side one would have closed with “Made of Lies” and side two opening with the up-tempo “Gym Bro.” That would make the lovely “All That Matters Now” a ‘cool down’ song, and it does so exquisitely, the performance not quite a ballad, but rather a mid-tempo plea accompanied by a hint of backing vocals and the gorgeous weeping pedal steel of maestro Paul Niedhaus. The pop-flecked, enchanting “Be My Secret” is afforded a spry instrumental backdrop, one of Harrison’s more emotional vocal performances, and an overall musical warmth enhanced by Amanda Broadway’s subtle harmony vocals.

The underlying syncopated rhythms of “No Winner Tonight” add a dash of funk to the performance, but mostly they provide a fast rail for the arrangement to jet along, propelling the instrumentation forward in parallel lines (rather than the less symmetrical arrangements of previous songs) while Harrison’s somber vox mimic Andrew Eldritch of Sisters of Mercy without the Goth trappings, or maybe the shambolic strains of Ian Astbury without the semi-metal overkill. Bikers Make Better Lovers closes with “Fake Appeal,” a less melodic but no less powerful performance with what seems to be (at times) double-tracked vocals, over-amped instrumentation, and more of Harrison’s six-string fever dreams. The song is a fine way to close the album and will continue ringing in your ears long after you turn off the amplifier, leave the room, and pour yourself a shot or two...  

Sour Ops

The Reverend’s Bottom Line


If previous Sour Ops albums tended to wear the band’s ‘70s-era musical influences on their figurative sleeves (The Stooges, Big Star, Cheap Trick, etc), Bikers Make Better Lovers eschews even their obvious Replacements obsession by making a bolder, brasher, and definitely louder musical statement. Taking no prisoners, the album’s performances teeter on insanity, opening up sonic possibilities seemingly denied earlier efforts. 

Noticeably missing on Bikers is guitarist Mike Harrison, whose absence allows brother Price to channel his avant-garde aspirations through the fretboard like Television’s Richard Lloyd or Living Colour’s Vernon Reid, without all the messy histrionics of shredders like Joe Satriani or Steve Vai. Lightning quick and gone in a flash, Harrison’s guitar solos are just one facet of the band’s expanded and expansive musical palette that make Bikers Make Better Lovers both their most adventuresome and artistically-expressive album to date, as well as their most entertaining. (Feralette Media, released May 29th, 2026)

Buy the album from Bandcamp: Sour Ops’ Bikers Make Better Lovers   

Also on That Devil Music:
Sour Ops’ Family Circuit CD review

Monday, June 1, 2026

CD Review: The Mekons’ HORROR/HORRORble (mekons Vs. Tony Maimone In Dub Conference) (2026)

The Mekons’ HORROR/HORRORble
British rockers mekons released a new album in 2025, the stand-out HORROR tragically-overlooked by all but the most hardcore of mekons fans. I gotta admit that I gave it a spin and shelved it because, with so much sound & fury in the world, it’s hard to recognize true beauty when you hear it. Luckily for we hopelessly unworthy droogs, the band is reissuing HORROR as the bonus disc of an adventuresome two-CD package along with a brand new LP, HORRORble. Comprised of Dub remixes by Pere Ubu’s Tony Maimone, HORRORble will warp your little mind, and the whole shebang will be available on CD, vinyl, and digital format to fit every budget just in time for the mekons’ 13-date tour of the U.S.

The Mekons’ HORROR/HORRORble (mekons Vs. Tony Maimone In Dub Conference) 

 
HORROR stands tall entirely on its own, a prescient and present collection of socially-conscious songs glittered-up with the band’s typical folk, rock, and country garnish. Lyrically, mekons mainstay Jon Langford has never been better in describing our current nightmare with songs like the lilting waltz “Sad and Sad and Sad,” the guitar-driven Celtic-folk of “Glasgow,” the historical lament “Mudcrawlers,” an uncompromising rocker with dense, clashing instrumentation, or the Burroughs/Ginsberg influenced beat poesy of “War Economy,” a punky new wave musical jaunt with fractured instrumentation and snarling vocals.    

Maimone had his work cut out for him in reimagining the band’s material for HORRORble, but acquits himself well from the first gorgeous note of “Before the Ice Age,” the production gimcrackery riding low in the saddle beneath the song’s haunting vocals (courtesy of Sally Tims) and ethereal soundtrack. The aforementioned “Sad and Sad and Sad” takes on new dimensions with a swirling rhythmic backdrop while “War Economy” is afforded a more traditional Jamaican Dub production that does nothing to rob the lyrics of their power by cleverly hiding them in a mix that would make King Tubby happy. 

The Reverend’s Bottom Line


The Mekons' Horror
Every one of Maimone’s productions on HORRORble are a trip – I particularly like the lysergic whimsical ambiance of “Sanctuary” and the shoegaze reverberations of “Fallen Leaves” – but his rockin’ remake of “Mudcrawlers” with U.K. vocalist Benjii Webbe (of the reggae-metal outfit Skindred) brings a sense of urgency and idealism to an already edgy tune, the performance a unique hybrid of Billy Bragg and Bob Vylan. If you weren’t paying attention when HORROR hit the shelves, maybe it’s time to rediscover the erudite and esoteric charms of the mekons with this budget-priced double-dose of one of the more criminally-overlooked bands in rock music. (Fire Records, released June 5th, 2026) 

Buy the CD from Amazon: The Mekons’ HORROR/HORRORble

Monday, May 25, 2026

Download: Pete Berwick's Early Days

Pete Berwick & the Generics Live At the Kmart 1981
Pete Berwick & the Generics - Live At the Kmart 1981 (Shotgun Records)

Americana pioneer Pete Berwick recently released two obscure recordings from his shadowy past and they provide a valuable glimpse into his foundational roots. Live At the Kmart 1981 is his punk rock EP, and not all that surprising, really, as Pete has always displayed a bit o’ punk attitude on his shit-kickin’ country-rock albums like The Damage Is Done and Just Another Day In Hell. The Generics were a short-lived but hard playing outfit that banged around the Midwest for three years circa 1981-1984. 

The six songs here don’t so much as caress your cerebellum as carom off your gray matter with a short, sharp shock. The sound sucks – definitely an audience or off-stage recording – with all the sonic artifacts that implies. But the songs are fast-paced, bristling with energy, and showcase an underlying melody that bursts out of the bootleg-quality taping with a reckless fervor. Two tracks, “I Wanna Be With You” and “There She Goes Again,” received regional college radio airplay and the EP overall is highly recommended for fans of late ‘70s/early ‘80s American punk…plus, it’s cheap!

Buy from Bandcamp: The Generics  

+++++

Pete Berwick & Interstate's Poster Above the Urinal 1987
Pete Berwick & Interstate - Poster Above the Urinal 1987 (Shotgun Records)


Fast forward a few years and Berwick – who would soon be haunting the side streets and dive clubs of Nashville – is fronting a more traditional rock ‘n’ roll outfit in his Chicago hometown, albeit one that veers dangerously onto cowpunk turf. Another audience recording, ten tracks, nine originals, and a wonderful cover of the Stones’ heroin ode, “Dead Flowers,” makes for a nice, tidy collection. 

The sound is marginally better than on the Generics EP, but still bootleg in quality – which does nothing to diminish the intoxicating cheap thrills that Berwick and his band Interstate serve up with Poster Above the Urinal 1987. The punkish edge is still obvious on songs like “Wild Ones” which, at six-minutes-plus, is adorned with too much cool Duane Eddy-styled guitar licks, wildass harmonica, and explosive drumbeats to be mistaken for Green Day or the Descendents.     
    
“Ain’t Good Enough” amps it up even further with a machinegun rhythm that Berwick’s vocals dance atop while the satirical “American Family” brings the twang with skewed humor and a stripped-down, ramshackle country sound built on aggressive guitar strum and harmonica. Berwick’s lyrics reveal his uncanny songwriting skills and dark sense of humor, skills that would only get sharper through the years. The last few songs on Poster Above the Urinal 1987 get increasingly twangier, with “She’ll Never Know” standing out in the crowd for its Dylanesque fervor and blue collar poetry and “White Lines” is just a solid hard rock jam with raging harmonica and chiming guitars underlining the lyrics. 

As for the aforementioned cover of “Dead Flowers” – which is really more of a Gram Parsons song than true Jagger/Richards composition (IYKYK) – Berwick’s drawled vox and nuanced fretwork wrap the song’s dark-hued lyrics in a blanket of pathos and a doomed Hank Williams vibe. Poster Above the Urinal 1987 provides a roadmap for Berwick’s eventual Nashville sojourn while documenting his evolution from young punk to seasoned roots-rocker, Berwick one of the most criminally-overlooked talents in the increasingly stodgy Americana sphere.

Buy from Bandcamp: Pete Berwick & Interstate

Friday, May 22, 2026

CD Review: Freddie King’s Feeling Alright: The Complete 1975 Nancy Pulsations Concert (2026)

Freddie King’s Feeling Alright: The Complete 1975 Nancy Pulsations Concert
It’s heartening to know that, even at this late date in the growing shadow of the 20th century, there is still some amazing music being discovered in some vault or another. Last year we got an amazing, unknown John Lee Hooker album in The Standard School Broadcast Recordings and in 2026, so far, we’ve seen some fine live Humble Pie sides and a never-released Wild Tchoupitoulas set live in New Orleans. Now comes along Freddie King’s Feeling Alright, a previously-unreleased album documenting the legendary bluesman performing before 50,000 fans at France’s Nancy Jazz Pulsations Festival on October 10th, 1975. Released on vinyl as a three-LP set for this year’s Record Store Day event, it’s also available as a two-CD set for those of us with more discriminating budgets.

Freddie King’s Feeling Alright: The Complete 1975 Nancy Pulsations Concert


King wasn’t at his prime in 1975, but he wasn’t far from it even with his death tragically looming in the year to follow. The guitarist had released his sixth album of the ‘70s, Larger Than Life, which was a studio/stage hybrid with tracks recorded live in April of that year at the Armadillo World Headquarters in Austin TX and in the studio in Hollywood with producer Mike Vernon. King embarked on a lengthy tour in support of the LP, barrel housing his livewire sound around the globe. 

King is backed on Feeling Alright by a solid band that included talents like second guitarist Ed Lively, bassist Benny Turner, and pianist Lewis Stephens as well as keyboardist Alvin Hemphill and drummer Calep Emphrey. Together, they make a joyous noise, the band members knowing when to play and when to stay and when allow the maestro to perform his six-string wizardry. They run through sixteen songs which represent a little old, a little new, and a whole lotta blues.

Have You Ever Loved A Woman


The set opens with King’s take on the Billy Myles’ song “Have You Ever Loved A Woman?,” the 1960 single expanded upon with King’s elegant, lengthy instrumental intro (nearly four minutes of guitar blues nirvana!) before he introduces the band (accompanied by individual solos, as was the style at the time…). King jumps back on the fretboard for a few minutes of bliss before introducing himself; it’s roughly ten minutes before he gets to the actual singing part. His emotional vocals make it well worth the wait, however, King delivering the lyrics as a heartbroken torch song punctuated by lonely guitar notes against a somber instrumental backdrop. It’s a stunning performance, King’s dynamic six-string work providing the song with gravitas and soul.

Although the opening track takes up nearly one-third of the first disc, what follows is equally as fiery and entertaining. “Whole Lot of Lovin’” is a booger-rock romp with a swinging rhythm and shards of brittle fretwork falling like rain on the chiming keyboards. The “Hey Baby”/“Mojo Boogie” medley rocks and rolls like Saturday night at the club while King’s reading of the 1953 Guitar Slim R&B hit “The Things I Used To Do” is precious, slowing the tempo down to a smoldering temperature while King belts out the lyrics. Definitely more up-tempo than its predecessor, a rowdy cover of Junior Well’s “Messin’ With the Kid” enlists full band participation and offers up one of King’s best vocal performances. 

Goin’ Down


Freddie King
The Don Nix blues standard “Goin’ Down” (recorded by the guitarist for his 1971 Getting Ready album) becomes putty in King’s, a raucous, rockin’, hell-raisin’ performance that knocks all of the contenders and pretenders out of the box. Contrast it with King’s masterful rendition of T-Bone Walker’s “Stormy Monday Blues,” providing the song with a sober, nuanced performance. The second disc of Feeling Alright is comprised largely of inspired and wired blues covers, King tearing through songs like Robert Johnson’s “Sweet Home Chicago” and B.B. King’s “Sweet Little Angel” with reckless abandon. The disc’s opening medley incorporates King’s classic 1961 single “Sen-Sa-Shun” with John Lee Hooker’s “Boogie Chillun” and “Magic” Sam Maghett’s “Lookin’ Good,” creating an electrifying nine-minute-plus instrumental that blasts through your speakers like a lightning-bolt.

Muddy Waters’ signature tune, “Got My Mojo Working,” is tailor-made for King’s talents, his fluid guitar lines driving the band’s spry rhythms in creating a foot-stomping performance certain to get people out of their seats. Johnson’s aforementioned “Sweet Home Chicago” is equally audacious, slowed down to a mid-tempo barn-burner with plenty of piano and swinging bass lines to accompany King’s razor-sharp guitar solos. “The Danger Zone,” written by R&B great Percy Mayfield for Ray Charles, is a departure, a blistering ballad that King wrings dry of pathos. British rocker Dave Mason’s Traffic-era classic “Feelin’ Alright” is the album’s title track, King retaining the Mason’s hooky chorus but affording the overall song lively a funk-rock arrangement propelled by his scrappy guitarwork and Alvin Hemphill’s raving keyboard runs.

The Reverend’s Bottom Line


Feeling Alright: The Complete 1975 Nancy Pulsations Concert is provided lengthy liner notes by blues historian and Chicago native son Cary Baker (author of the excellent book Down On the Corner: Adventures In Busking & Street Music) that includes reflections from King’s daughter Wanda and bandmember Lewis Stephens. The set also includes a lengthy interview with Wanda King, who shares great memories of her dad. As there’s little of King’s live performance prowess available (a few tracks from Larger Than Life, a couple of bootlegs CDs, including Ebbets Field Denver ’74), Feeling Alright is a blues guitar showcase, an entertaining and provocative performance that cements Freddie’s status as one of the “Three Kings” of the blues alongside his contemporaries B.B. and Albert. (Elemental Music Records, released March 27th, 2026)

Buy the CD from Amazon: Freddie King’s Feeling Alright

Also on That Devil Music: Freddie King’s The Complete Federal Singles CD review

Monday, May 18, 2026

Book Review: Cat Taylor’s Music Row Rejects (2026)

Cat Taylor’s Music Row Rejects
Despite the fact that there’s been a thriving Nashville rock scene for better than four decades, there’s still the widespread notion that the ‘Music City’ is more country music than not, an oversight not helped by the glut of country-flavored celebrity tourist-trap bars on Lower Broadway. It’s a bit of an illusion, actually, as the best country artists (i.e. ‘Americana’) are everywhere but in Nashville. The money-making genre’s corporate infrastructure of offices and studios in the mid-city enclave known as ‘Music Row’ is a sterile construct, cranking out assembly-line music that is homogenized by producers and record labels to appeal to the largest number of middle-aged, middle American housewives as possible.

Rock ‘n’ roll has always had a rough slog in Nashville, Elvis Presley’s adventures in RCA Studio B notwithstanding. There was little or no local rock scene in the city during the mid-‘70s apart from R. Stevie Moore and his friends, who altogether combined for something like 100 different bands. But Stevie split town for Jersey and D.I.Y infamy after releasing 1978’s Phonography album, and it would take another year or so before bands like David Olney & the X-Rays, Cloverbottom, File 13, and CPS (Committee For Public Safety) would pick up the torch and start lighting stages like Springwater or the long-gone Phranks ‘n’ Steins on fire.

If rock music received a less-than-friendly reception from the “powers that be” on Music Row, punk rock was disdained, if not overlooked altogether. Still, as writer Charles “Cat” Taylor documents in Music Row Rejects, his extensive discography and history of the city’s punk scene, punk has been an integral part of the city’s rock scene since the 1980 release of Cloverbottom’s Anarchy In The Music City 7” vinyl EP. A profusely-illustrated 104-page “bookazine” (not quite a book, not quite a zine), Music Row Rejects is a welcome guide to the city’s often overlooked punk scene, which has run not-so-quietly beneath the more mainstream rock ‘n’ roll currents for decades.

It took me six years of research and writing to put together my 600+ page doorstop of a book, The Other Side of Nashville, An Incomplete History & Discography of the Nashville Rock Underground 1976-2006, which was published in 2012, so I know all too well the risks of taking on a project like Music Row Rejects. Taylor took on an immense task and acquits himself nicely. His efforts were helped, no doubt, by his own participation in the city’s ever-evolving punk rock scene over the years as the lead singer for two popular punk outfits, Rednecks In Pain and Fun Girls From Mt. Pilot, as well as a contributor to the House O’ Pain zine and indie record label.

Cloverbottom
Cloverbottom

With Music Row Rejects, Taylor documents the scene with an impressive discography of close to 200 recordings by a 100 or so bands (I’m guessing), providing release info and track lists (when available) for a wealth of punk, hardcore, and punk-pop records, CDs, and cassette tapes that represent the scene as it existed from 1980 through 1997. In many instances, he has tracked down band members to provide their perspective, or at least share some rowdy stories of their rock ‘n’ roll daze. Taylor fills it out with cool graphics like show posters, band photos, and such. It’s a fun read, and I can’t imagine the book being much more comprehensive, as there are dozens of bands that I’ve never heard, and I was covering the scene at the time for numerous publications (including my own music zines).

The Nashville punk scene’s halcyon days can be assigned to the tenure of Lucy’s Record Store circa 1992-1998, where popular bands like Jack, Fun Girls, Java Christ, and Teen Idols were booked by Lucy’s owner Mary Mancini and House O’ Pain’s Donnie and April Kendall (who had been promoting “Migraine Matinee” all-ages shows at the local club Pantheon) alongside touring national acts like They Might Be Giants and Guided By Voices. But Taylor also digs back into the early ‘80s with entries for early punk outfits like the aforementioned Cloverbottom and CPS as well as like-minded bands such as the Resistors, Placid Fury, and the Ratz. 

Fun Girls From Mt. Pilot
By the late ‘80s, bands like the popular hardcore gang F.U.C.T., Rednecks In Pain, Caustic Solutions, Tommyrot, and Zero Hour, among others, were making exciting and adventuresome music and setting the stage for the Lucy’s Records era. Taylor ends Music Row Rejects right around the time that Lucy’s closed down, which did seem to be a sort of death knell for an independent punk scene at the time. Although other all-ages clubs would open and close throughout the 2000s and since, never again was the scene as much a community than it was at Lucy’s. Two Nashville punk/hardcore bands broke out from the local scene, Teen Idols and Today Is the Today making records for indie labels with significant distribution and worldwide reach.

Cat Taylor’s Music Row Rejects is more than a mere discography of the city’s punk scene, the author providing a narrative of the scene’s creative aspirations. Many of the bands listed in the book released but a lone single or cassette, but a surprising number of them managed to produce a small, albeit impressive catalog of music, often releasing it themselves on tape or seven-inchers that have since become pricey acquisitions for well-heeled punk collectors. More than a Discogs/eBay wish list for punk rock fans, Music Row Rejects is an invaluable reference and history of a Nashville punk scene that persevered despite the obstacles presented by the city’s staid music industry. (self-published, released January 2026)

Get yer own copy o’ Music Row Rejects, email Taylor at catidball@gmail.com or check out their Facebook page at https://www.facebook.com/musicrowrejectszine 

If you’re in Nashville, get you a copy at The Great Escape, Phonoluxe Records, Vinyl Tap, or Grimey’s Music...you’ll be glad that you did! 

Committee For Public Safety

 
F.U.C.T.

Lucy's Records Ad

Friday, May 15, 2026

Archive Review: Bryan Lee's Play One For Me (2013)

Bryan Lee's Play One For Me
For better than two decades, veteran New Orleans bluesman Bryan Lee has recorded for Canada's Justin Time Records, forging a quiet reputation a soulful vocalist, skilled songwriter, and vastly underrated guitarist. Beloved by fellow string-benders (just ask Kenny Wayne Shepherd, among others), that fact that Lee hasn't broken through to a larger blues audience is one of the great oversights of our time. With Play One For Me, the guitarist's Severn Records debut, Lee has a puncher's chance with the larger label at reaching the audience his talent deserves. 

It's no surprise that, in his adopted hometown, the blind bluesman is a musical institution on par with the Neville family, Dr. John, or the great Allen Toussaint. Play One For Me backs up his reputation with a phenomenal mix of Lee-penned originals and choice cover tunes that all showcase his hearty vocals and elegant guitarplay. Fronting a band that includes Fabulous Thunderbirds frontman Kim Wilson on harp and rhythm guitarist Johnny Moeller holding down the back end, Lee bites into Freddie King's "It's Too Bad (Things Are Going So Tough)" like a hungry man at a buffet, widely choosing to jazz up the original's already classy guitar line with a muted sort of grace as Kevin Anker's keys dance in the background. Howlin' Wolf's classic Willie Dixon-penned "Evil Is Going On" is given a full-bore Bourbon Street treatment with a brassy arrangement, a big beat, raging piano-play, and Lee's downright nasty guitar licks.  

Lee's original material is equally entertaining, the guitarist's "Poison" channeling a 1920s-era Delta-bred malevolence with its studio-altered vocals, ambling rhythms, and delightfully greasy fretwork. "Let Me Love You Tonight" rides an entirely different (soul) train, sounding like a contemporary take on the classic Stax Records sound with pleading vocals, Cropperesque guitar, and a rambunctious horn section while "Sixty-Eight Years Young" definitely brings the funk, a sly groove paired with a bit of Southern-fried chicken-pickin' and jaunty, tongue-in-cheek lyrics. Some 20 years and a dozen albums into his career and Bryan Lee still manages to surprise, Play One For Me an entertaining and inspired collection with no little heart and soul. Grade: A (Severn Records, released September 17th, 2013)

Friday, May 8, 2026

Archive Review: Morrissey’s You Are the Quarry (2004)

Morrissey’s You Are the Quarry
As frontman for the highly influential British band the Smiths, Steven Patrick Morrissey created the blueprint for much of what was to follow in Britpop, from early ‘90s chart-toppers like Oasis and Pulp to new millennium art-rockers like Radiohead and Coldplay. Morrissey’s self-absorbed lyrics, his ambiguous sexuality and romantic yearning, his alienation and radical politics captured England’s imagination, albeit briefly, over the course of four mid-‘80s albums. The Smiths, courtesy of Morrissey’s writing partner Johnny Marr, brought the guitar back to rock ‘n’ roll, the band’s combination of punk-inspired DIY aesthetic and British Invasion-inspired tunecraft earning the band a fair degree of commercial success in its homeland and a passionate cult audience stateside.

When the Smiths crashed and burned after Marr left the band in 1987, Morrissey jumped into a solo career without missing a beat. The following year he released his debut, Viva Hate, to significant commercial and critical acclaim, scoring hit singles with the songs “Suedehead” and “Everyday Is Like Sunday.” By the time of 1992’s Your Arsenal, the British music press had turned its back on its one-time wonder boy, openly calling Morrissey a has-been while questioning his well-earned musical accomplishments. By this time, however, the American audience had embraced the artist, driving the album to number 21 on the Billboard Top 200 chart. Morrissey’s 1994 follow-up, Vauxhall and I, climbed even higher, peaking at number 18, cementing Morrissey’s legacy as an artist. By the time of 1997’s underrated Maladjusted, the music industry had undergone a significant change in direction, with vacuous boy bands and flaxen-haired pop tarts making a mockery of Morrissey’s musical prose.   

Morrissey’s You Are the Quarry


You Are the Quarry is Morrissey’s first album in seven years, not so much a comeback as it is a reminder of the timeless quality of the artist’s muse. Morrissey’s off-putting sense of entitlement, heartworn romanticism, angst and political outrage is much in evidence throughout the album’s lyrics, the singer’s trembling vocals as engaging and mournful as they were 20 years ago. During his lengthy exile in Los Angeles, Morrissey’s status as a rock legend has outgrown his detractor’s best efforts, his band and solo work cited as crucial by artists as diverse as rocker Ryan Adams and rappers Outkast. Morrissey seems to have used his time away from the spotlight to resharpen his songwriting craft, the artist’s poison pen poised to tackle a number of relevant subjects.

“America Is Not the World” chides the artist’s adopted home for its excesses and bullying nature, Morrissey declaring his love for the country while pointing out why much of the rest of the world dislikes the U.S.A. One of many politically charged songs on You Are the Quarry, Morrissey is also quick to criticize the land of his birth in “Irish Blood, English Heart.” A wry commentary on English history, Morrissey’s vocals build from a whisper to a scream, exclaiming “I’ve been dreaming of a time/when the English are sick to death/of Labour and Tories/and spit upon the name Oliver Cromwell/and denounce this royal line that still salute him/and will salute him forever.” It’s a strong anti-monarchist statement, fitting perfectly with Morrissey’s left-leaning, humanistic viewpoint.

Trademark Melancholy


Morrissey
Morrissey doesn’t neglect his trademark melancholy with You Are the Quarry, a brace of strong songs tackling loss of faith (“I Have Forgiven Jesus”), unrequited love (“Come Back To Camden”) and the loss of privacy (“How Can Anybody Possibly Know How I Feel?”). Throughout the album, Morrissey bares his soul even more than usual, throwing out lines that reflect his concerns about the past (“I’m not sorry for the things I’ve done”) and his place in history (“The future is passing you by”). Along the way, he lets slip that his bravado is a mask to hide behind (“Jesus – do you hate me? Why did you stick me in self-deprecating bones and skin?”). Morrissey assaults American Idol-styled “lock-jawed pop-stars” who are “so scared to show intelligence” because “it might smear their lovely career.”

Morrissey saves his most savage invective for the music industry itself, “You Know I Couldn’t Last” providing him with the last laugh and offering an experienced glimpse of the price of fame. “The teenagers who love you/they will wake up/yawn and kill you” sings Morrissey, “the critics who can’t break you/unwittingly, they make you.” Decrying the “squalor of the mind” often created by success, Morrissey sings of the pressures of expectation, “there’s a cash-register ringing/and it weighs so heavy on my back.” In life, as in song, Morrissey has turned his back on the industry, the artist’s independent streak manifesting itself in his lyrics and business decisions alike. Dealing with the industry on his own terms, Morrissey got Sanctuary Records to activate the long-dormant Attack imprint in releasing You Are the Quarry.

The Reverend’s Bottom Line


Throughout a career that has now spawned two decades, Morrissey has consistently defied expectations even while seldom adventuring beyond his (admittedly) narrow stylistic tendencies. Morrissey’s strength as an artist has always been in the confessional nature of his lyrics, his persistent dedication to craft and his connection with his audience. Although his exaggerated public persona is often attacked by critics, there is no doubting the artist’s sincerity and accomplishments. You Are the Quarry is an excellent addition to Morrissey’s oeuvre, a solid rock ‘n’ roll album that illustrates why Morrissey is held in such high esteem in the first place. (Attack Records/Sanctuary, released May 14th, 2004)

Monday, May 4, 2026

Archive Review: Various Artists - Radio Dick, Volume One (2003)

Radio Dick, Volume One
Named after the notorious pirate DJ, Pal-Tone calls its Radio Dick compilation “The 3-sided LP Series.” Each CD will feature four songs each from three distinctly different bands (thus the “3 sides”); volume numero uno offering up cuts by the American Plague, Windfall, and Vangard. The American Plague hail from Knoxville, Tennessee and sound a lot like stadium rockers trapped in punk rock bodies. “Alabama Tough Love” rips a riff right out of the Johnny Ramone playbook, pumps it up a bit with steroidal amplitude and rocks the hell out of it. The band’s other three songs shake the earth in a similar fashion, all muscular power chords and soaring vocals, kind of like a cross between Pearl Jam and Loverboy.

Windfall has a female lead vocalist, which lets you know right off the bat that you’re going to experience a different aesthetic from the Plague’s throwback crotchrock. Singer Jennifer Catucci has pretty good pipes, but fairly pedestrian material to work with, shimmering guitars and rhythmic crescendos supporting her operatic vocal gymnastics. “Kindle Eyes Nude” is the best of the batch, a hard-driving tune with clashing instrumentation, wiry leads and odd timing that works to great effect behind Catucci’s larger-than-life vocals. Of the trio of young ‘uns here, Windfall sounds the most like the big time. 

Vangard rounds out Radio Dick, Volume 1, kicking out the jams with rapid-fire, generic pop-punkola that could easily find a home on Drive Thru or Vagrant. Not that any of Vangard’s material is offensively dreck – it’s all pleasant enough I suppose, kind of like cherry cough syrup, with the sweetness covering the bad aftertaste (and the shudder of revulsion that follows). All in all, a mighty mediocre comp with little to distinguish these three bands from the universe full of rock ‘n’ roll hopefuls. (Pal-Tone Records, released 2003)

Review originally published by Jersey Beat music zine... 

Friday, May 1, 2026

Interview: Peter Holsapple of the dB's (1984)

The dB's Like This

Masters of a unique American pop/rock sound that garnered tem a great deal of critical acclaim for their two import albums, the dB’s are virtual unknowns outside of a few college radio markets across the country. “We received a lot of college radio airplay with those two albums,” says Peter Holsapple, the band’s songwriter and vocalist. “Songs like ‘Black and White’ and ‘Happen’stance’ were staples. When you have an import LP, though, and you’re taking it around to people, you don’t have the promotional ability that an American label, even a small independent, does.” This identity crisis should end, though, with the release of the band’s first American album, Like This.

Like This is a collection of various musical influences, produced by former Waitresses member Chris Butler. Listing influences as wonderfully diverse as REM, Jason and the Scorchers, Marshall Crenshaw, and the Gun Club, Holsapple says of the album “it’s an optimistic record for optimistic times.” With all eleven of the album’s songs penned by Holsapple, Like This represents a departure from the old dB’s style. Former member Chris Stamey, who left the band to pursue a solo career, wrote half of the band’s past material. Says Holsapple, “our focus has changed somewhat. We’ve tried to make it a diverse and yet as interesting as possible.” With six years of both on-the-road and in-the-studio experience already under their belts, of Like This Holsapple says “we got our sophomore jinx out of the way years ago, so this is our first third LP and our second first LP!”

The band acquired their recording contract after a two-year hiatus. “We had to take a break and look at where we were going, what we were achieving,” says Holsapple. During this break, Holsapple toured as an opening act for R.E.M., performing an amazing acoustic set. Because of these performances’s optimistic and upbeat nature, Holsapple dubbed this his ‘No Nebraska’ tour, an obvious reference to Bruce Springsteen’s somber recording of that name.

The dB’s will tour all summer and into the fall, not only to build a base for their audience (“I want people to say ‘Yeah, I want that album when it comes out!’” says Holsapple), but also to reacquaint themselves with the rigors of life on the road after such a long lay-off. “The power that this band puts out on stage is incredible,” says Holsapple, “it’s the hottest, cookingest little outfit I’ve heard in a long time.”

Interview originally published by Nashville Intelligence Report #24, October 1984

Also on That Devil Music: The dBs Like This CD review 

Friday, April 24, 2026

Archive Review: Seasick Steve’s Hubcap Music (2013)

Bluesman “Seasick” Steve Wold is an interesting character by any measure. Leaving his California home as a teenager, Wold traveled across country by train, living the hobo life while looking for work. Throughout the 1950s and early ‘60s, he drifted across the Southeast and Southwest U.S. working as a farm hand, a cowboy, and a carnie before he picked up the guitar and began playing his own unique style of country-blues. He ended up in Europe, where he made a living as a street busker playing for tips before he drifted into studio engineering and production where, most notably, he worked on the band Modest Mouse’s first couple of independent albums.

As Seasick Steve, Wold wouldn’t release his first album until 2004’s Cheap, which he recorded with the Norwegian duo the Level Devils. The critically-acclaimed Dog House Music, his solo debut, came out in 2006, and it was a New Year’s Eve appearance on fellow musician Jools Holland’s BBC television show that made Seasick Steve an overnight sensation in the U.K. Several albums and major festival appearances would follow throughout the late ‘00s, as would various awards and accolades. Seasick Steve made his debut for Jack White’s Third Man Records with 2011’s You Can’t Teach An Old Dog New Tricks, his fourth album in a row to go Gold or Platinum for U.K. sales. 

Seasick Steve’s Hubcap Music


Steve’s Hubcap Music, recorded with his longtime drummer Dan Magnusson, is named for one of the singer’s homemade guitars, his unusual instruments an appropriate match to his unique style of blues. The sound of an old tractor firing up introduces the jaunty “Down On the Farm,” a song not that far, stylistically, from Watermelon Slim’s similarly raw-boned roots-rock. With former Led Zeppelin bassist John Paul Jones holding down a fat bottom end and Magnusson delivering a big percussive beat, Seasick Steve cranks out some scorching licks on his hubcap guitar while he sings the praises of life, well, “down on the farm” with a John Deere tractor, the smell of hay, shovels and other farming implements, including a chainsaw. In the hands of any other artist this might seem trite, but Steve and the band deliver a playful, down-home boogie-blues with plenty of chainsaw riffs that wouldn’t seem out of place on a Canned Heat album.

Seasick Steve’s “Self Sufficient Man” slows the tempo down a bit, rolling as it does into a languid rhythmic grind with plenty of Mississippi mud rubbed into the grooves. Steve delivers some stellar guitarplay in between the mesmerizing riffs, his two-man band following closely in the creation of a heady swamp-water stew, the entire performance sounding like electrified, amplified Delta blues gone to a dark place. By contrast, “Keep On Keepin’ On” has more of a North Mississippi Hill Country vibe, Steve and the crew delivering a rockin’, R.L. Burnside burning down the juke-joint styled performance, Jones’ showing his skills as a multi-instrumentalist with some fine banjo pickin’.

Freedom Road


Seasick Steve 

Mr. Jack White III joins in for the down ‘n’ dirty “The Way I Do,” the guitarist adding some serpentine fretwork behind Steve’s haunting vocals on a menacing Mississippi blues jam worthy of the late, great Junior Kimbrough. Although sporting minimalist lyrics, Steve punches the words home with dead-certain finality, Magnusson’s cannon-fire drumbeats loudly punctuating each word. White’s guitar lines are unpredictable, imaginative, and entirely in keeping with the odd direction of the song. “Purple Shadows” is a gentler listening experience, a soft-edged slow-tempo Americana ballad that features underrated Nashville singer Elizabeth Cook. Steve’s gruff, twangy Merle Haggard-styled vocals contrast nicely with Cook’s sweeter feminine tones, the song a tale of love gone wrong, or maybe just unrequited, the two voices intertwined to emphasize the lyrical heartbreak.

The cacophony that opens “Freedom Road” is just a taste of the song’s raw, reckless performance with Steve strangling his hubcap git for every last damn note, the Jones/Magnusson rhythmic shuffle luring the listener into complacency as Steve’s lyrics evoke memories of Robert Johnson’s hellhounds, his sonorous vocals drawling out each word before the song launches into a raucous freight-train boogie worthy of Savoy Brown. North Mississippi Allstars frontman Luther Dickinson layers on bucketloads of slinky guitar on the trance-blues romp “Home,” but it’s the full band treatment offered “Coast Is Clear” that really mixes things up. After ten tracks of delightfully greasy roots ‘n’ blues, the album-ending “Coast Is Clear” is a swerve, an inspired mix of Stax-styled Memphis soul with gospel overtones and a Southern rock heart. It’s an elegant performance, spiced with Jones’ stately Hammond organ riffs and Steve’s considered vocals, the song representing a new musical direction for the expat bluesman if Seasick Steve should ever want to travel further down this stylistic road.       

The Reverend’s Bottom Line


If you’ve yet to discover the immense charms of Seasick Steve, Hubcap Music is a great place to start. The album’s carefully-crafted mix of country-blues, roots-rock, and Southern soul is delivered with the fervor a true believer, the instrumentation is truly inspired, and the guest performances are understated yet significant. Hubcap Music is delightfully entertaining, with many musical layers and textures, Seasick Steve definitely an underrated talent worthy of your consideration. The Rev says “check it out!” (Third Man Records, released October 15, 2013)

Monday, April 20, 2026

Archive Review: Nick Moss’s Here I Am (2011)

Nick Moss's Here I Am
Over the course of a half-dozen or so studio and live albums with his excellent band the Flip Tops, singer and guitarist Nick Moss proved himself to be somewhat of a Chicago blues traditionalist. While the “Windy City” native would embellish the classic Chicago sound with a little houserockin’ energy from time to time, he was just as likely to go backwards in time, towards the “one step from the Delta” era of Tampa Red or Big Bill Broonzy, as he did with the acoustic disc of 2007’s acclaimed Play It ‘Til Tomorrow album. 

Drawing comparisons to another Chicago blues institution, the Paul Butterfield Blues Band, it seemed as if Moss and the Flip Tops could do no wrong…and neither could they break out of the creative miasma that traditional blues can drag an artist into. Moss flipped the switch with his 2010 release Privileged. While still working with Flip Tops band members like multi-instrumentalist Gerry Hundt and drummer Bob Carter, Privileged was a solo album very much in a blues-rock vein, Moss sealing the deal with a high-octane cover of Cream’s “Politician.”    

Nick Moss’s Here I Am


Two years after unveiling his muscular new sound on the Blues Music Award nominated Privileged, Moss returns with a crackerjack new band and the steroids-enhanced, livewire blues-rock dinosaur stomp that is Here I Am. Building upon what now seem to be the tentative first steps of Privileged, Moss and his blues bruisers use a traditional Chicago blues framework to construct an imposing leviathan of riff-happy, percussion-heavy performances that masterfully weld familiar 1960s-era blues sounds to 1970s-and-‘80s-influenced, guitar-driven, amps-on-eleven blues-rock in the creation of a new 21st century blues paradigm.

Take, for instance, the album-opening “Why You So Mean?,” an unbridled seven-minute jam that smacks you upside the head from jump street with Moss’s fierce guitarplay, Travis Reed’s rollicking keyboards, and Patrick Seals’ unforgiving percussion. Grabbing the power and emotion of early Muddy Waters and matching it with the energy of 1970s-era Hound Dog Taylor, Moss unfolds a classic blues tune of romance and betrayal. As the locomotive rhythms and “Stumpy” Hutchkins’ throbbing bass line hold down the bottom end, Moss waxes pyrotechnic with an explosive six-string performance that storms out of your speakers like a bombing run, his anguished vocals providing an emotional urgency that is enhanced by the no-quarter-asked (and none given) nature of his screaming fretwork.

Blood Runs


If “Why You So Mean?” hasn’t left you on the floor gasping for breath, “Blood Runs” just might finish the job. A musclebound rocker with Southern soul roots, the song takes a little mojo from guitarist John Cipollina’s mesmerizing “Pride of Man” for its chorus, matching it with insightful and topical working class blues lyrics, Moss’s tortured vocals, Reed’s tinkling keys, and cool, gospel-styled backing harmonies. Moss’s solo is taut and menacing, like a barb-wire tattoo around your throat, while his intelligent lyrics pose a pretty damning question. The title track is a larger-than life musical throwback to Jimmy Page and Led Zeppelin, with a soupcon of Z.Z. Top thrown in to provide a little Texas twang (especially in Moss’s fluid vocals). The lyrics are defiant, and perhaps more than a little biographical, delivered with strength and certainty.

Not all of Here I Am is monster-riffed, moshpit blues-rock Sturm und Drang, nosirree…Moss’s “It’ll Turn Around,” for instance, is a slow-paced and deliberate mix of blues and Southern rock with a positive message and elegant guitarplay, while “Caught By Surprise” bolts a funky rhythmic track to an R&B styled soul-blues heartbreaker with nuanced guitars, subdued but effective vocals, and syncopated drumbeats. The red-hot “Katie Ann (Slight Return)” takes its cue from Jimi Hendrix’s bluesier side, throws a little of droning North Mississippi Hill Country vibe into the gumbo pot, and seasons the mix with a little Delta mud, stirring up an engaging and mesmerizing performance that rocks hard, but cruises dangerously below the radar with jet-fighter riffs and bombastic percussion. The instrumental “Sunday Get Together” is a low-key but effective jam with wave upon wave of bluesy guitar, sparse drums, and keyboard flourishes atop a traditional foundation.          

The Reverend’s Bottom Line


Unlike a lot of acclaimed fretburners that began their career playing blues-rock, Nick Moss is coming in through the side door after spending a couple decades as a sideman and bandleader working in pretty much a straight blues vein. Unburdened by the clichés and expectations of the blues-rock style that often serve as an obstacle to musicians, Moss has taken to the form like a duck to water, but on his own terms and with fresh ideas as to the execution of the music.

Here I Am is a stunning, electrifying, and entertaining collection that places Moss at the forefront of today’s blues-rock scene. Exploring, and often exploding the boundaries of the style, Moss has staked his claim as an innovator, creating new possibilities not only for blues-rock guitar but for the music altogether. While I personally believe that Moss is one album away from creating a bona fide blues-rock masterpiece that will endure the test of time, with Here I Am he has delivered a near-classic collection, while all of the pieces – from the songwriting to his eclectic and exciting fretwork – are falling into place like dominoes…can’t wait to hear what he does next! (Blue Bella Records, released November 22, 2011)

Friday, April 17, 2026

Archive Review: Big Bill Morganfield’s Blues With A Mood (2013)

Big Bill Morganfield is getting a lot of ink these days – and deservedly so – to go along with multiple Blues Music Award nominations for his 2012 debut Son of the Seventh Son. But Muddy Waters’ other blues-singing son has been quietly building a legacy of his own for better than a decade and a half. Since the 1999 release of Big Bill Morganfield’s Rising Son album (which won him a BMA for “Best New Blues Artist”), the singer, songwriter, and guitarist has become a popular live performer and perennial festival attraction.

Big Bill Morganfield’s Blues With A Mood


For his fifth album, Morganfield goes indie all the way, Blues With A Mood released on the artist’s own Black Shuck Records imprint. Recorded in Nashville with producer Colin Linden and an all-star cast that includes guitar greats Eddie Taylor Jr. and Bob Margolin, as well as keyboardist Augie Meyers (Sir Douglas Quintet, Texas Tornadoes) and harp player Richard “Doc” Malone, Morganfield scatters a few well-chosen covers across Blues With A Mood, surrounding them with solid original tunes written in an undeniably retro style.

Morganfield’s stated intent for Blues With A Mood was to deliver a moody set of performances that would evoke memories of old-school John Lee Hooker, Howlin’ Wolf, and Muddy Waters and I’d say that he’s accomplished his goal. Only the original “Money’s Getting’ Cheaper” evinces any sort of contemporary lyrical influence – then again, poverty has always been a part of the blues landscape – socially-conscious lyrics accompanied by a raging vocal performance, Jim Horn’s icy blasts of sax, and Meyers’ fleet-fingered honky-tonk piano. “No Butter For My Grits” is a humorous but starkly realistic talking blues with a Chicago blues swagger and a swamp-rock vibe that showcases the hypnotic guitar interplay between Taylor and Linden.

The Reverend’s Bottom Line


Altogether, Blues With A Mood is a throwback to the Chicago blues and R&B of the 1950s and early 1960s when giants roamed the streets of the West Side. Morganfield has this stuff hard-wired to his DNA, and Blues With A Mood isn’t so much an attempt to recreate those golden days as it is an inspired tribute to the era’s long-lasting influence, lovingly delivered with no little style and energy. (Black Shuck Records, released 2013)

Review originally published by Blues Music magazine...