Southern Comfort
Ever seen "O Brother, Where Art Thou?" In the town of Tishomingo, the main characters form a band to great success. In homage to the film, Tishamingo named themselves hoping for a little of that success to rub off!
Instantly recognisable as being spawned in Southern US, their own brand of rock sounds like somethig from thirty years back. Too blues to be classified as rock and roll, this is the type of music that fueled the birth of the guitar bands of the 70s and that have dominated music ever since. There is something kind of comforting about this music that we've all heard before and that instantly paints a picture.
With tracks titled "Hillbilly Wine" and "Poison Whiskey" everything about this band completely fits a stereotype. Blue collar band complete with trucker-caps and gravelly voice. Tishamingo are like caricutures of a film set in the deep south. A cross between Santana and Stevie Ray Vaughan, this is nothing new. Nor is it pretending to be. 12 bar views of a life we in the UK will never understand.
Everything about this album reminds me of some dodgy and cheap American movie. Think Patrick Swayze in "Roadhouse". This is the band that should be playing in the bar. "Magic" playing in the background whilst our hero is drowning his sorrows over neat Bourbon. Produced by a guy who worked with a band named "Drive By Truckers", I think says it all!
Although this is pure blues, it is not the blues I love: the black man's music. The voice with which the oppressed sang loud and from whence John Lee Hooker, BB King and others were borne. Tishamingo's country-rock sounds sheltered. The music is free from the influence of all that's happened in the past 30 years, much like the deep south if we're to believe all we see at the movies.
With a busy schedule and a great reputation for playing live, these guys have built up quite the loyal fanbase back in the US and this album "Wear and Tear" is welcomed with open arms. Whether it has the same effect here in the UK remains to be seen. But I get the impression that there isn't a buzzing underground Southern Rock scene waiting for this album's release.
You see the thing is...these songs start with some of the most delicious bass licks as in "Smoked Mullet", and for a moment I get all excited. But that glimmer of hope quickly evaporates with the introduction of the melody and the vocals. After a while I find it difficult to separate one song from the rest. After all, you can only write so many 12 bar blues before it all starts sounding the same. I will however reserve the banjo propelled "Legend of George Nelson" in case I decide to remake "Roadhouse". Atmospheric to the hilt and geographically specific, all of those American 'made-for-TV' movies need a bit of slide gee-tar!