Graham Reid | | <1 min read
Although perhaps too referencing of Dylan and the Band holed up in the basement of the Big Pink, that doesn't mean this shakily delivered collection of Americana from these three brothers and a bassist isn't without considerable charm and lowkey impact.
And nope, there is no problem with your stereo during Hey Hey Revolver, that drop-out is where lightning hit their cheap studio and the rumbling is thunder -- all of which adds some slightly self-conscious character to the grim narrative.
From Upstate New York (nice coincidence, that's where the Big Pink is) these former buskers really have nailed a kind of dark, rural sound which sounds all the better for being unvarnished.
The fag-end sound is an affectation perhaps, but they certainly touch the spirit of that untutored, ragged-edge Americana -- and this sits nicely alongside The Basement Tapes, Levon Helm's new album (see tag) and wintery, backporch country albums.
Whisky-sippin' and dog-pattin' music.