Of all the bands who have played Twangfest over the last 14 years, the Deep Vibration is one of the most controversial. Not because it took the stage and preached politics (that would be another band), berated the audience (yet another band) or destroyed the backline (one mic stand fell over, not a crime).
A Monday night rock & roll show in St. Louis has the potential to be an uncomfortable experience on both sides of the music; especially if it happens in the long, slate corridor of the Firebird, where Monday-night crowd members might feel isolated standing in that gaping space before the stage.
The exact year is debatable, but shortly after the plug was pulled on the '90s, punkers had their genre stolen from right under ‘em. The Sum-182 mall brats were popping up left and right, and punks felt cheated. Some went along for the ride, some abruptly jumped ship and some took refuge with another genre that was deeply rooted beneath punk soil: country. Except, naturally, when a bunch of punks play it, it’s going to sound a little more distorted and jarring.
American Aquarium creates heedful alt-country where piano and pedal steel guitar circulate along a background of steady drums and electric guitars. The Raleigh, N.C. band fuses its lyrics of heartaches, mistakes and forces of nature with emotionally charged melodies.
Chicago-based progressive bluegrass band Cornmeal take the laid-back acoustic groove of the Grateful Dead and mix it with some blazing picking ala New Grass Revival.
With a voice as sharp and strong as a plow blade cutting through a stony field, William Elliott Whitmore sings about he knows, and does so with a natural force. Hear the Lee County, Iowa native's exclusive live performance at KDHX.
A howling voice, a droning guitar, a floorboard lined with looping gizmos, and a restless lyrical sensibility like few other songwriters: That's Richard Buckner the performer; he brought his one-man, musical hypnosis treatment to KDHX.