Music Spectrum

Archie Powell & the Exports send up music for playing hooky on their debut album, Skip Work. They’ve been compared to the Replacements, Elvis Costello (in the Attractions days), and Weezer, but you can’t deny that there’s a twang going on here landing them in the AltCountry camp (think the Old 97′s and the Drams filtered through another heavy dose of Minneapolis garage rock). Things start off with the sing-songy “Milkman Blues,” an acoustic-led foray into pop punk. Then fuzz guitar immediately kicks things into a new gear for “Enough About Me,” reminding me somewhat of Ted Leo & the Pharmacists or maybe even the Mood Elevator. There are riffs and hooks here. There’s gang singing on the choruses for a rousing good time. There’s enough energy to burn the whole place down. Plus, there’s just enough rollicking piano to keep that twang swaying (“Loose Change”).

Archie Powell & the Exports

Braving a blizzard that would eventually dump 17 inches of snow on Minneapolis, a healthy-sized crowd packed First Avenue to catch the Old 97’s show on Sunday, February 20. Touring to support their latest release, The Grand Theater, Volume One, the band shook off the Minnesota weather and brought in their AltCountry Texas swagger, opening the set with the dirty, bluesy title track. Four songs into the set, on “Niteclub,” it was clear that the guys had come out swinging, showing why they’re called cowpunks.

The set was a crowd pleaser across the board. The pounding new single, “Every Night is Friday Night Without You,” and other tracks off the new album were there, especially pleasing to the fans just discovering the band. But lead singer Rhett Miller had also peppered the list with old standbys and requests to make long-time fans proud to be in attendance.

Of the new songs, I was especially impressed with “Please Hold On While the Train is Moving,” which seems like an AltCountry nod to Led Zeppelin what with a “been a long time” vibe. They also slow that train down midway through for a half-tempo section that has you buying tickets to jump on that train as it pulls out of the station again to close out the song.

Amid the band tunes was a classic, “Wish the Worst,” from Hitchhike to Rhome, which shows the 97’s doing their best sloppy drunk Replacements act. Elsewhere, the set was propelled forward by “Indefinitely,” “Champaign, Illinois,” “State of Texas,” “Smoker,” and closed out the main set with “Doreen.” After Miller took the stage for the encore alone singing his “My Valentine,” the band treated us to a few more rockers including “Buick City Complex,” “Dance With Me,” and finally, “Timebomb.”

The evening also included a number of tracks where bassist Murry Hammond stepped forward to lend his voice for lead vocals, slowing things down a bit, getting up to step onto the train platform, and listen to him busking. “Barrelhead Sun” actually kicked up the dust a bit. Then there was also “West Texas Teardrops,” the new “You Were Born to Be in Battle,” and during the encore (while playing acoustic guitar), “Valentine.”

But it was on the night’s third track, “Dance Class,” that I was pondering what makes an Old 97’s show so compelling. Sure, the songs are about sex, drinking, and all of that rock ‘n’ roll kind of stuff, but there’s always seemed like there was more substance to it. It’s the odd juxtaposition of something hopeful and light in the midst of the normal country kind of lyrical fare. On “Dance Class,” it dawned on me that it’s because the band makes a backbeat so rebellious while Miller’s lyrics make a romantic move just a snarl. It’s music that looks straight through love into the dark side of things. It’s music that wryly pokes holes in romantic notions. It’s music that only pretends to champion loose morals while actually somewhere in the midst of it wishing to find true love, settle down, and make something good of this world. At least, I think I heard all of that in a song about falling in love with a girl across the room in the dance class.

Sometime during the evening, Miller declared that we should all just spend the night at the club like a big sleepover. Hammond said, “It’ll be like church camp.” Miller replied, “Except with more booze.” And then Hammond almost chimed in with one more thought. I don’t know if this is what he was thinking, but I was thinking that it’d be like church camp with more booze but with at least one pastor in attendance.

Old 97’s
New West Records

It begins in a most dark place, a blues rock that slithers up full of serpentine temptation, calling you to “open your eyes and let the wrong light in.” “The Wrong Light” by Kasey Anderson and the Honkies is dirty blues rock made for scaring the devil out of you while you wander around deserted, distant crossroads. It’s that invitation that opens the album, Heart of a Dog.

Thankfully, there’s enlightening ahead as “The Wrong Light” gives way to “Mercy,” a Gospel-tinged tune that admits everyone needs mercy. It’s a road song akin to Bruce Springsteen and the E. Street Band’s blues/Gospel moments; it’s a road song that puts some distance between you and that “wrong light” crossroads. All this means you need to listen to “The Wrong Light” and “Mercy” as a couplet for full spiritual effect.

Tunes like “Exit Ghost” and “Your Side of Town” that are more country-inspired and pull back the blues resonate with that Springsteen state of affairs. But then Anderson and company rev things back up for “Sirens and Thunder,” bluesy guitar taking over on the course of a Bottle Rockets/Drive-By Truckers-like AltCountry. “Kasey Anderson’s Dream” keeps up that same power, although it wields a more blues-inspired line.

Elsewhere, check out the power chords and harmonies of “My Baby’s a Wrecking Ball,” and then there’s the stomp and harmonica of “Revisionist History Blues.”

Kasey Anderson
Red River Records

Somewhere in that space between the levee and river, the District Attorneys are hunkered down and setting up their kit in the back of a couple of old pick up trucks, the generators going so they can amp up the sound and let the colors fly from their guitars. At least that’s how it sounds.

The District Attorneys’ Orders From… echoes with vocal harmonies on a riverbed of Country-influenced jams akin to Cabin Dogs, Romany Rye, and Delta Spirit. “Going to Carolina” stretches things out like hazy sunshine, while “The Caro-Lines” drags up a barroom swagger. “Splitsville” brings on gang vocals for a dirty AltCountry pulling out of town saying “good riddance.” Closing out the seven-track disc is “Jerry Ten,” a dreamy scene like Galaxie 500 with a bit more shape to it (especially on the drumming of the bridge).

The District Attorneys

Into a white-washed world of January comes the Footsteps of Olin & the Moon. Having just finished with the 2100-mile-long blizzard of this week and then dipping into sub-zero temperatures, there’s something oddly comforting in the AltCountry strains of Olin & the Moon. This is AltCountry via the subdued waves of Grand Drive and James Yorkston. This is acoustic guitar leading all the way. This is as much folk as it is rock. For the winter bound, then, it’s shimmering warmth to ward off the rocking wind. It’s fireplace flickering in the dark room. It’s primed for sing-alongs. It’s picked tunes with that slide guitar working its charm from the near-dark corners. Although, lest you get the wrong impression, they can also lay out a rocking tune here as well, such as the swaggering “Repeat.”

Olin & the Moon

It’s been seven years now since I sat in a friend’s cabin in Door County, Wisconsin, watching the snow slowly, silently building up all around me, and listening to some great Americana slowcore—mumbled, lo-fi, folk, AltCountry stuff like Loner, Thomas Denver Jonsson, Damian Jurado, Early Day Miners, Okkervil River, and Spokane. The lights were kept low, the fire stoked, the volume turned up, the beer cold, and I spent the evening soaking in the atmosphere of the music.

Flash forward a year later and I was enjoying Holy Sons’ I Want a Peaceful Life which would’ve fit perfectly in my cabin experience–lo-fi folk with plenty of electronic, ambient noise throw in. It’s Americana for cabins that can also sway a bit with the beat of a city night.

Now Holy Sons (Emil Amos and company) return with Survivalist Tales!. It ranges from the most mumbled slowcore to tracks that tingle with electric energy ready to break out. The plaintive styling makes you think that it’s music for quiet nights, but really it’s made to be cranked—while you’re alone. It’s meant for watching snow come down—contemplating just what would happen if you didn’t have a warm shelter and faith that life wouldn’t fall apart.

Holy Sons
Partisan Records