On A Monday - Catfish Keith

There are some days where nothing will do but a resonator guitar, you know? I think we've all had those days.

So everybody please say Hello to one of the masters of the dobro: Mr. Catfish Keith, shown here performing Leadbelly's 'On a Monday' at a Rural Roots Concert in Southwell Library.

I've always found there's something about the sound of resonators that's otherworldly, rusty and sexy all at once. Catfish himself has one of the goofiest growly voices for both singing and talking, but he pulls it off with be-hatted swagger. He's playing the Half Moon in Putney on November 18th which seems like the absolute best way to see him. Let's all go! Agreed.

4 Aces - The Texas Tornados

I did not plan on writing about 4 Aces today, but this song has been on such a loop through my head ALL DAMN DAY that I needed to infect all of you as well.

Enjoy the propulsive texmexejano stylings of The Texas Tornados on this warm London evening (or you know- wherever you are). And be prepared for accordions to stamp through your dreams like demon slinkys.

Willie the Chimney Sweeper - Ernest Rodgers

The ur-Minnie the Moocher. This haunting recording of Atlanta journalist Ernest Rodgers (a self proclaimed 'citybilly') was cut in 1927 on wax cylinder. The wonderfully surreal imagery of Willie's drug trip is held in perfect balance with Rodgers ghostly cries in between each verse. In fact I could have used  a whole extra rendition of the song without any of the verses- just the spindly guitar and mourning cries. Haunting, funny, and timeless.

Bluegrass My Ass - Autofonic

I've long felt that bluegrass music works with electronic beats. The Bastion soundtrack cemented this fact for me while also instilling an intense craving for more. Yet even after employing my most excellent Google-Fu skills I still haven't managed to find the bluegrasstronica band of my dreams. I did however find the chilled out farm house built inside of a computer groove of Bluegrass My Ass by Autofonic. 

Autofonic is a Plymouth based electronica and house music solo project with a number of pretty great songs with pretty great titles such as Bitches Love Laserbeams and Spin Cycle Satisfaction. Bluegrass My Ass is his first (and thus far only) dalliance with the bluegrass style, so let me say here that this NEEDS to continue. Please. And thank you.

Copperhead Road - Steve Earle

I've never been a big Steve Earle fan. I've tried! I want to like him! I love the intent behind 'F the CC' but DAMN I don't like the song. Several cross country car rides soundtracked to nothing but Earle albums cemented it for me: Steve and my love just wasn't meant to be. Nothing personal, but I needed to listen to other people.

A few years later I'm at an open mic night in London, and up steps a mandolinist. I love mandolins. Probably too much. I'm willing to forgive a lot if a song has a sweet ass mandolin solo. He begins strumming out a simple country chime, boots pounding on the floor, and starts growling out Copperhead Road.

It was stuck in my head for days. Finally I went to look up the song, and it's God Damn Steve Earle. Not just that- it's Awesome God Damn Steve Earle.  So with shuffling feet and my face red, I listened to the song on repeat for an hour.

Copperhead Road is from the album of the same name, and has been described by Earle as the first cross between metal and country- a sound Rolling Stone dubbed Power Twang. The song blends a myriad of styles- a bit country, a bit heavy, a bit celtic. Mandolins (YES!) shimmy over drums that sound like they're cannoning out of the Grand Canyon before being dissected by fiery guitar licks. And there's bagpipe! It's got Vietnam, bootleggers, moonshine and marijuana! It's got EVERYTHING.

So yeah. Steve and I worked things out. Thank God for second chances.

Drivin' Nails In My Coffin - Ernest Tubb

Ernest Tubb, better known as The Texas Troubadour, was one of the major trailblazers of country music. He had a wide range of hits and well known numbers, including the famed honkytonker 'Walking the Floor Over You.'

Today's Best Song Ever is Tubb's cover of Floyd Tillman's (also a respected country music progenitor) song of lost love, booze and metal: Drivin' Nails In My Coffin.

The song is an example of what I call A Damned Fine Line. 'Drivin' Nails' itself isn't a mind blowing country experience. There are songs that freewheel faster and ballads that twang tougher. No, this song is elevated by the perfectly honed simplicity of its chorus. In three lines Tubb and Tillman have cracked the self immolation of the heart. They do it without bombast or histrionics. They're killing them selves slowly, and it's all for you darling. Driving those nails in their coffins. Driving those nails over you.

It's short, sweet, and self destructive. The perfect kind of country. The perfect kind of heartbreak.

I Just Started Hating Some People Today - Beck ft. Jack White

Beck and Jack White made a thing! It's called I Just Started Hating Some People Today! Let's listen!

The opening of the song (by which I mean the main bit of the song, by which I mean the… y'know… song bit of the song)  is jingle jangle alt country made for serious alt head nodding where you look up for a moment as you break into an irony free grin at the cheerfully demented lyrics before noticing no one else is smiling so you close your eyes and smile on the inside as you punch everyone's face like Beck because fuck those guys.

I don't think I can put it much better than that. It's got woozy druggy bass, it's got crunchy crashy drums by White, and it's damn funny. It has a pair of false endings: one fifteen seconds of hardcore, the other quasi P-Funk. 

Maybe (stay with me here)- maybe the song is a metaphor for angry sex in it's construction. It's pretty awesome at the start (because sex right?), even though you're pissed off the whole time. Then for a brief moment the anger overwhelms you in blinding climactic fury. But then you've orgasmed and shit... why were you mad again?

Thank you Beck and White for making the country ode to distracted hate sex. There's your cover quote. Where's my money?

Big River - The Secret Sisters ft. Jack White

The Secret Sisters are about to slug Johnny Cash in the mouth while blowing kisses.

Real life sisters Laura and Lydia Rogers cut this cover of Cash's Big River at Jack White's Third Man Studios, with White pulling double duty as producer and guitarist. 

The track is absolutely torrential. You can feel a dam slowly cracking with each whack of a snare before the water roars forth in the form of dueling guitar solos that gently give way to the Rogers winking harmonies.

Your left with the distinct impression the Sisters would love you up before drowning you deep down on the banks below. And you'll love every minute of it.

Tunes of Terror Vol. 3 - Naked In The Afternoon

Halloween simply isn't Halloween without a little Jandek:

The history of Jandek is convoluted and confusing. In an attempt to put simply: the performer known as Jandek has been self publishing his own brand of crypto-goth blues since the late 70s behind many layers of obfuscation and intentional misdirection. Since late 2004 he has finally begun performing (reasonably) consistently in public.

Yet even with the artist making public appearances nothing can take away from the sense of dread and rot ground into every note of 'Naked In The Afternoon,' the opening track from Jandek's 1978 debut Ready For The House.

Ramblin Man - Isobel Campbell and Mark Lanegan

Today we wish a very Happy Birthday to Hank Williams (he of 'Hey Good Lookin' fame)!

We wish him a Happy Birthday with bullwhips! Birthday bullwhips! Rhythmic Birthday bullwhips! All to be found in today's Best Song Ever, a cover of Hank's famous hit 'Ramblin Man,' by Isobel Campbell and Mark Lanegan.

Fire and Brimstone - Link Wray

Link Wray is Rumble. He is the grandfather of distortion and the argued inventor of the power chord. He paved the road for more flavours of rock than you can name.

However by 1971 Wray had somewhat faded from relevance. His brand of hip shaking rock'n'roll was out of vogue. In a world of proto-prog, funk, soul and heavy metal, where was the place for this six string slinger?

The answer, it turned out, was going unplugged. Capitalizing on the burgeoning roots music culture, Wray retreated to his farm in Maryland to record eleven tracks of riotous country bound rock and folk. The marvelous if little known result was the self titled album Link Wray. The finest cut is easily Fire and Brimstone, today's Best Song Ever.

The songs kicks open the doors with manic twangs of slide guitar, booming and bopping bass, cooling washes of wah-heavy electric. Then the boot stomps on hard wood floors start pumping through. Rocks get shaken inside of tin cans. Finally, rising above it all, are Wray's impassioned screams backed by a chorus of rock and roll angels.

This is the apocalypse burning it's way through the undergrowth and tearing out of the woods. It's roaring. It's rollicking. It's Fire and Brimstone, and it's been out of your life for too long.