Contrasting shades of blues
Over the past month I purchased two EPs by local Champaign-Urbana bands that couldn’t have less to do with each other if they tried even a smidgeon harder. The first is by The Situation, the three “Lukes”—Luke Walker, Damon Luke Wilson and Matt “Luke” Filippo. The second is by American Minor—no Lukes involved, but there’s a Bruno and a Bud. The first is a self-released “demo” of suspect recording quality. The second is a major-label release (sporting a fancy FBI anti-piracy warning on the back!) of superior recording quality. The first sports no guest appearances; the second features Heartbreaker Benmont Tench on Hammond and Wurlitzer. The artwork for the first is crude in design and printed on Kinko’s-quality paper; it’s a homemade job. The second comes packaged in one of those presumably eco-friendly cardboard gatefolds and utilizes fonts that don’t come pre-installed on your Dell.
But when I said that the two couldn’t be further apart, I meant not only in terms of presentation and representation, but also within their respective genre. Both four-song EPs are loosely affiliated to the blues-rock genre. But they don’t sound anything alike.
We’ll start with the self-titled debut from The Situation, a brawling trio that reminds me of the bastard child of Spacemen 3—minus all of the psychedelia—and the Immortal Lee County Killers. “The First Excitement” sports a bitchin’ crunchy blues-punk wallop that veers into a classic Sonic Youth-like rumble over what I would call the bridge (which also serves as the introduction). The song is without a true chorus, though, to the song’s ultimate defeat. “Why’d You Come to Me” features Walker’s splendid slide guitar lead in a more traditional dirty blues number that recalls the modern flavor of Dan Melchior’s Broke Revue and to a lesser degree the Jon Spencer Blues Explosion. Walker’s vocals—raw and tortured and full of energy—are pushed to the fore on this song. He’s no crooner, nor is he going to win any awards for “Best Male Vocalist,” but Walker’s voice fits the style appropriately and when he delivers a passage with confidence it suits his songs well.
“This Rabbit Hole” continues to place the emphasis on the Lee County Killers tip with another helping of amplified slide guitar set to stomping rhythms. The bass is a bit buried in the mix, but these guys clearly keep the rhythm in their blues. Whether he’s banging the fuck out of his tom or executing his snare drum with rapid-fire hits, Wilson’s drumming maintains the group’s muscular physique while also adding an interesting counterpoint to the guitar-bass line.
The clincher is “New Closer,” a heavy, grumbling bruiser that finds The Situation furiously digging up dead people by the moon’s steady light like a desperate, estranged widow after the family’s lone heirloom. Wilson attacks the drums with Todd Trainer-like intensity and precision before the band segues into a brutal and brief neck-breaking section that sounds like Helmet-gone-blues.
These guys definitely have the heavy-hitting punk-blooze hybrid down pat, and musicianship is hardly an issue. Now, they just need to work on crafting their songs a bit more and in doing so developing a style more suggestive of their own personality. Expanding their sonic vocabulary a bit and varying the vocal delivery would give their sound some needed range. But overall, this is a promising debut—warts and all—that was well worth the price of admission, a measly three bucks.
I spent twice as much to get a look-see at American Minor’s long-time-coming recorded debut, The Buffalo Creek EP. But, you gotta pay for the studio time somehow. In all seriousness, I can’t think of another local band that has morphed more in the course of a year-and-a-half than these guys. Of course, any time a band goes through a lead guitarist it’s going to affect their sound to some degree. But these guys also know more than a thing or two about crafting their tunes. American Minor continually fiddles with their songs, even when simply leaving well-enough alone would seem like a great fucking tune to the pedestrian listener. (It’s hard to recognize “Get On It,” my old fave that is presented here after major cosmetic surgery.) I suppose that quest for perfection comes from concentrating specifically on a handful of songs and jamming non-stop day after day. But these guys also have an ear for arrangements, which comes from spending their formative years listening to masters like Big Star and The Faces.
American Minor
“Walk On” is a commanding, straightforward opener that sheds light on one of this band’s keys to success. American Minor has got that knack for choosing irresistible chord progressions. Sounds simple enough, but it’s a gift that seems to elude so many of their peers. Bluesy, “southern” rock and roll is utterly dependent on the almighty riff, and that riff is naturally built on the chords themselves. But beyond just the guitar tabs—and it’s clear that new guitarist Bud Carroll is a bit of an Einstein on the fret board—singer Rob McCutcheon has got it going on. He sounds confident, sexy, and absolutely alive on this particular recording. And the magic dust he shakes free of his shaggy hair settles on the rest of the band like a security blanket. There’s no denying that American Minor ain’t fucking around here.
It’s a great start to the EP, and I’m also sold on the follow-up, “Buffalo Creek,” the record’s namesake. The only obvious downfall is the guitar solo at the song’s start (and middle) that sounds very ‘80s in that “hey listen to me I fuckin’ rock” kinda way. Carroll’s tone is so clean and his solo so wailin’ that it automatically calls to mind arena rockers of past and an audience full of flickering Bics. For this particular song—which eloquently paints the picture of desolation row, red-state style—it just works against the blue-collar theme. But I dig the gritty, tough guitar riff, the smart use of backing vocals, the textured guitar overlay during the second part of each verse and Knox’s plodding cowbell. And the mellow, melodic bridge in which McCutcheon sings “I lost my momma / I lost my kin / in the black black river / It makes a man shiver / again and again and again”. Here the band walks a thin line, showing vulnerability in its desire for sensitivity. Ultimately, the introspective sidebar comes across as genuine, not hokey, which is no easy task.
Critics that are hoping to find a "sounds-like" for American Minor in Kings of Leon or The Black Keys will ultimately be disappointed—or if they dare to anyway, then laughed at behind their back. American Minor don't sound like either, despite the likelihood of all three being lumped under the "southern rock" banner. Where the Kings of Leon tend to keep things stupid simple in an attempt to not muck things up, American Minor seems to welcome the challenge of building a better song.
But that’s not to say they aren’t capable of misfiring. “Movin’ On Up” is the band’s first recorded misstep. It’s a weaker song that at times crosses over into misguided white-boy blues territory. “Movin’ On Up” also brings up another complaint I have with this EP, which is the production. The record sounds too polished, like someone emptied a can of lemon-scented Pledge on a 30-year-old, lacquer-less coffee table in the hopes of giving it a fresh look to impress the parents-in-law. Traditional, blues-based rock and roll gets by on its guts; it provides the listener with a slice of life that’s cut from a familiar fabric. The curtains match the rug, and there’s no effort made to conceal the stains or sunspots. Considering how many times I’ve seen these guys put the pedal to the floor on stage, I know they can keep a listener’s interest without needing to put on their Sunday best.
Which brings me to “Get On It,” which as I said before used to be my favorite American Minor song. But this version is a stranger to me. And I don’t think I want to get too friendly with it either. This might be an example of thinking too hard about something that comes as natural as can be; they took a song originally overflowing with vitriol and stripped it of much of its brute force, giving it a lyrical overhaul and lessening the intensity of the vocals to boot. And that just saddens me. This version definitely sounds more radio-ready, but it would get its ass kicked at the schoolyard by the old school edition.
Despite all the cosmetic differences between American Minor v. 2.0 and the American Minor I was introduced to two years ago, I still feel the same way about these guys as I always have. At the core, the songwriting is top-notch and the band just has a knack for identifying with the lowest common denominator. Subject mater alone would dictate that this band is going to be an easy read for Average Joe American. Even though the band endorsed John Kerry, they’re far more likely to serve as a sounding-off board for those simpleton American folk proud of the gun rack hanging up in the rear window of their Ford F-150. That’s not to say that American Minor is stooping too low on this album; rather, they know their roots, and that’s what they deliver with stunning accuracy. Unlike a good deal of us, they aren’t ashamed of where they came from…and I suspect, where they’re headed, either. More power to ‘em.
But when I said that the two couldn’t be further apart, I meant not only in terms of presentation and representation, but also within their respective genre. Both four-song EPs are loosely affiliated to the blues-rock genre. But they don’t sound anything alike.
We’ll start with the self-titled debut from The Situation, a brawling trio that reminds me of the bastard child of Spacemen 3—minus all of the psychedelia—and the Immortal Lee County Killers. “The First Excitement” sports a bitchin’ crunchy blues-punk wallop that veers into a classic Sonic Youth-like rumble over what I would call the bridge (which also serves as the introduction). The song is without a true chorus, though, to the song’s ultimate defeat. “Why’d You Come to Me” features Walker’s splendid slide guitar lead in a more traditional dirty blues number that recalls the modern flavor of Dan Melchior’s Broke Revue and to a lesser degree the Jon Spencer Blues Explosion. Walker’s vocals—raw and tortured and full of energy—are pushed to the fore on this song. He’s no crooner, nor is he going to win any awards for “Best Male Vocalist,” but Walker’s voice fits the style appropriately and when he delivers a passage with confidence it suits his songs well.
“This Rabbit Hole” continues to place the emphasis on the Lee County Killers tip with another helping of amplified slide guitar set to stomping rhythms. The bass is a bit buried in the mix, but these guys clearly keep the rhythm in their blues. Whether he’s banging the fuck out of his tom or executing his snare drum with rapid-fire hits, Wilson’s drumming maintains the group’s muscular physique while also adding an interesting counterpoint to the guitar-bass line.
The clincher is “New Closer,” a heavy, grumbling bruiser that finds The Situation furiously digging up dead people by the moon’s steady light like a desperate, estranged widow after the family’s lone heirloom. Wilson attacks the drums with Todd Trainer-like intensity and precision before the band segues into a brutal and brief neck-breaking section that sounds like Helmet-gone-blues.
These guys definitely have the heavy-hitting punk-blooze hybrid down pat, and musicianship is hardly an issue. Now, they just need to work on crafting their songs a bit more and in doing so developing a style more suggestive of their own personality. Expanding their sonic vocabulary a bit and varying the vocal delivery would give their sound some needed range. But overall, this is a promising debut—warts and all—that was well worth the price of admission, a measly three bucks.
I spent twice as much to get a look-see at American Minor’s long-time-coming recorded debut, The Buffalo Creek EP. But, you gotta pay for the studio time somehow. In all seriousness, I can’t think of another local band that has morphed more in the course of a year-and-a-half than these guys. Of course, any time a band goes through a lead guitarist it’s going to affect their sound to some degree. But these guys also know more than a thing or two about crafting their tunes. American Minor continually fiddles with their songs, even when simply leaving well-enough alone would seem like a great fucking tune to the pedestrian listener. (It’s hard to recognize “Get On It,” my old fave that is presented here after major cosmetic surgery.) I suppose that quest for perfection comes from concentrating specifically on a handful of songs and jamming non-stop day after day. But these guys also have an ear for arrangements, which comes from spending their formative years listening to masters like Big Star and The Faces.
American Minor
“Walk On” is a commanding, straightforward opener that sheds light on one of this band’s keys to success. American Minor has got that knack for choosing irresistible chord progressions. Sounds simple enough, but it’s a gift that seems to elude so many of their peers. Bluesy, “southern” rock and roll is utterly dependent on the almighty riff, and that riff is naturally built on the chords themselves. But beyond just the guitar tabs—and it’s clear that new guitarist Bud Carroll is a bit of an Einstein on the fret board—singer Rob McCutcheon has got it going on. He sounds confident, sexy, and absolutely alive on this particular recording. And the magic dust he shakes free of his shaggy hair settles on the rest of the band like a security blanket. There’s no denying that American Minor ain’t fucking around here.
It’s a great start to the EP, and I’m also sold on the follow-up, “Buffalo Creek,” the record’s namesake. The only obvious downfall is the guitar solo at the song’s start (and middle) that sounds very ‘80s in that “hey listen to me I fuckin’ rock” kinda way. Carroll’s tone is so clean and his solo so wailin’ that it automatically calls to mind arena rockers of past and an audience full of flickering Bics. For this particular song—which eloquently paints the picture of desolation row, red-state style—it just works against the blue-collar theme. But I dig the gritty, tough guitar riff, the smart use of backing vocals, the textured guitar overlay during the second part of each verse and Knox’s plodding cowbell. And the mellow, melodic bridge in which McCutcheon sings “I lost my momma / I lost my kin / in the black black river / It makes a man shiver / again and again and again”. Here the band walks a thin line, showing vulnerability in its desire for sensitivity. Ultimately, the introspective sidebar comes across as genuine, not hokey, which is no easy task.
Critics that are hoping to find a "sounds-like" for American Minor in Kings of Leon or The Black Keys will ultimately be disappointed—or if they dare to anyway, then laughed at behind their back. American Minor don't sound like either, despite the likelihood of all three being lumped under the "southern rock" banner. Where the Kings of Leon tend to keep things stupid simple in an attempt to not muck things up, American Minor seems to welcome the challenge of building a better song.
But that’s not to say they aren’t capable of misfiring. “Movin’ On Up” is the band’s first recorded misstep. It’s a weaker song that at times crosses over into misguided white-boy blues territory. “Movin’ On Up” also brings up another complaint I have with this EP, which is the production. The record sounds too polished, like someone emptied a can of lemon-scented Pledge on a 30-year-old, lacquer-less coffee table in the hopes of giving it a fresh look to impress the parents-in-law. Traditional, blues-based rock and roll gets by on its guts; it provides the listener with a slice of life that’s cut from a familiar fabric. The curtains match the rug, and there’s no effort made to conceal the stains or sunspots. Considering how many times I’ve seen these guys put the pedal to the floor on stage, I know they can keep a listener’s interest without needing to put on their Sunday best.
Which brings me to “Get On It,” which as I said before used to be my favorite American Minor song. But this version is a stranger to me. And I don’t think I want to get too friendly with it either. This might be an example of thinking too hard about something that comes as natural as can be; they took a song originally overflowing with vitriol and stripped it of much of its brute force, giving it a lyrical overhaul and lessening the intensity of the vocals to boot. And that just saddens me. This version definitely sounds more radio-ready, but it would get its ass kicked at the schoolyard by the old school edition.
Despite all the cosmetic differences between American Minor v. 2.0 and the American Minor I was introduced to two years ago, I still feel the same way about these guys as I always have. At the core, the songwriting is top-notch and the band just has a knack for identifying with the lowest common denominator. Subject mater alone would dictate that this band is going to be an easy read for Average Joe American. Even though the band endorsed John Kerry, they’re far more likely to serve as a sounding-off board for those simpleton American folk proud of the gun rack hanging up in the rear window of their Ford F-150. That’s not to say that American Minor is stooping too low on this album; rather, they know their roots, and that’s what they deliver with stunning accuracy. Unlike a good deal of us, they aren’t ashamed of where they came from…and I suspect, where they’re headed, either. More power to ‘em.
Sorry, I slipped into my prose voice. Haha. I didn't mean "bitching", I meant BITCHIN. As in, bitchin', dude. (Think stoner, surfer talk.)
By 
thenoiseboy, at 8:47 AM
8:47 AMSorry, I slipped into my prose voice. Haha. I didn't mean "bitching", I meant BITCHIN. As in, bitchin', dude. (Think stoner, surfer talk.)