Just recently there was a large thread on a social network site that
followed on from my asking if young people in general engaged with
live music blindly as my compatriots and myself did way back in the
mists of time.
The discussion was a long and varied one with multiple views being
expressed.
A great many reasons for what seems like a disengagement was touted,
but there didn't appear to be any argument to say that people did
still just go out and put their entertainment needs into the laps of
the gods.
Maybe I am one of the few elephants shuffling off to our mythical
graveyard then as this is how I stumbled across Sweathearts of the
prison rodeo.
I was in Glasgow and had a look through some listing sites online and
the name jumped out and from that I read a bit about them and thought
'this could be right up my street'.
The deal was sealed when an artist I like and admire turned out to be
part of the supporting bill.
So with that there I was in the 13th Note for the album
launch and yet another act were added to my list of those who
provided damn good nights.
There's no point in trying to force the band into a neat little box
as they are a sprawling glorious mess of free expression that has a
socialist heart, and they are impressively fearless in how they put
themselves across.
Thankfully none of that was lost when it was transferred over to the
studio.
Some have described them as an americana act, but while that does
indeed flavour some of what they do you could also say confidently
that they are a post punk band who understand the importance of folk
music.
In bits I am reminded of the Nyah Fearties in the attitude they
display if not sound, and that's not a bad thing.
The main thing that keeps coming to mind when I listen to the album
is how we need bands like this.
They are the antidote to the bland, the anarchic storm that thrashes
through banality and apathy, and leaves the air crackling with life
in the aftermath.
No comments:
Post a Comment