You probably know Will Johnson as the frontman for Centro-matic and South San Gabriel. If for some odd reason stemming from a giant artistic and emotional hole in your soul, that doesn’t ring a bell, you may know him as the fifth Monster of Folk or from his contributions to New Multitudes, the collection of previously unrecorded Woody Guthrie songs by Jim James, Jay Farrar, Anders Parker, and Will.
Derek Hoke plays unapologetically classic country from the pre-digital, hell, pre-cassette era. Think of it as sort of pensive hillbilly. Derek and his songs aren’t going to lurch forward at you and shout in your face. He’s more the type of guy to lean back and play at his own pace and draw you in on his own terms.
The Drowning Men weren't trying to record their second album when they laid down a few tracks last year, and they weren't auditioning for a label when they hit the road opening for Flogging Molly shortly after, but fate has a funny way of making things happen.
With bands like Mumford & Sons and the Avett Brothers launching into mainstream success with the current folk revival, there are a lot of bands standing by, with banjo in hand and a glimmer in their eye that says, "Yeah, we do that. We've been doing that for years. We're pretty damn good at it too." Well, we'd like to introduce you to another one of these bands: The Giving Tree Band
Odds are, you’ve had Annie Automatic’s song “Time Lapse” stuck in your head for the better part of the last month and not known how, why, or what song it is. Fortunately, we’ve got some answers and a free download for you.
It’s been longer than you would expect since an Irish singer-songwriter has clawed his way up through the ranks here in the States, especially considering much of our troubadour styled songs owe a good bit of thanks to their Celtic heritage. Well, worry not, we’ve got one for you: Foy Vance.
Pebaluna’s “No, I Can’t” is so smooth that it should be sipping cognac in a crushed velvet jacket after it took home your girlfriend, your mother, and your sister. It’s stripped down, acoustic, indie soul, but really, the only word you need to describe it is “smooth.” Maybe you could add a “damn” in front of that too.
Somewhere along the line, rock and roll lost its soul. We’re not here to point fingers (quite frankly, we’ve only got so many hours in the day and so many fingers on our hands). Fortunately, Grandfather Child is here to bring some of that much needed soul back to rock and roll.
A funny thing happens on the way to being a beloved, six year/ five album, workhorse rock and roll band playing 300 shows a year: life beats the shit out of you. From great suffering comes great art, and it’s all the better if there’s some pedal steal involved.