Almost a year has passed since the release of Manners, so followers of the group now hold extremely high expectations for any future creative output from the band. Live Passion Pit shows, such as the one on display at the Beaumont Club, gave fans the hint there's still more to be heard from the Cambridge quintet in the months and years ahead.
When a band is on hiatus, you get times where the high level of intensity stays moderately average, and then you get those shows where the immeasurable musical magic occurs, and causes you to wonder when this band will reach its best moments… I hope we haven’t seen it yet, although this show could qualify very much so, with this being the fourth out of the five shows Railroad Earth has played with new bass player Andrew Altman.
“I’m here for the [Squash] Blossom Boys,” said the young attractive gal next to us. And from somewhere behind, we overheard patrons chatting up the talented and “knock-your-socks off” headliner, on the last leg of their winter tour, The Infamous Stringdusters.
On a Friday night, just a hoot and a holler from the Big Easy, a band was playing at a small intimate club in Mandeville called The Howlin Wolf Northshore. Known for their eclectic variety of shows, the band playing on this particularly warm night was Josh Garrett and the Bottomline. Yes, this guy has been around a few years, humping the circuit with his funky brand of horns and guitar spice. He has a reputation that preceeds him and it is well deserved. For on this night, he lit up this little southern enclave like a red-hot smoking firecracker of bluesy sauce spilled on the grill. Smoke and sweat. You can picture it, I know you can.
Well, Joe Perry is still out there rocking with the best of them, proving he still has the stuff that rock n roll wet dreams are made of. With all the commotion going on within his home band, Joe decided to pull out his Joe Perry Project, get some great guys together, record a cd and hit the road. I caught up with them on the coast of Mississippi and was knocked backwards by the onslaught of a powerfully tight band having fun.
A long weekend of music came to a close Sunday night where I found myself back at the Lincoln Theatre for a show by Robert Earl Keen. After witnessing both a blazing Friday night set by Jason Isbell & the 400 Unit and a perfectly mesmerizing three-hour masterpiece by Wilco on Saturday night, I wasn’t sure I could muster the enthusiasm for the rowdy revelry that normally accompanies a Keen show.
Jason Isbell and 400 Unit blazed through the night with a two and a half hour set fluctuating from shimmering raucous guitar blues, songwriting gems, and shimmering power pop.
’ve never been to Norway, but I’m guessing the chaotic torrents of flooding water falling from the heavens this weekend must have seemed harsh even for this group traveling halfway around the world. On their way to SXSW and warmer skies in Austin, The Megaphonic Thrift played a few tune-up shows under the deluge in NYC, the last of these being Monday night at the Oya Festival put on by Oh My Rockness in Santos Party House.
Twenty years into their career, Ohio's Over the Rhine – the husband and wife duo, not the neighborhood – is now a genuine underground music force. They rule their home state's venues, stealthily sell out shows across the country, and sell thousands of albums on their own while somehow remaining virtually unknown. Despite a dedicated fan base that ravenously devours anything they put out, travels to shows in the Midwest and beyond, and generally treats principals Karin Berquist and Linford Detweiler like royalty, you'll seldom hear their name mentioned anywhere.
Linfinity is happy to be floating along with light jam-band tinged vibes or changing strides with indie precision- in either spectrum the band’s tone is solid. Specifically engaging was the string usage (violin, acoustic and electric guitars) transforming from mellow to dissident measure to measure if need be. The announced new song called “Miles” illustrated this with a percussive bump and cymbals crashing build.
