San Francisco-based singer/songwriter Brad Sanzenbacher might not have a country-esque name, but his blend of Americana/country folk is honest, pure, and unassumingly smart. It recalls early electric-era as well as troubadour folk-era Dylan, especially due to Sanzenbacher’s lyrical poeticism and wounded, emotional delivery – one that plays to alt country’s studied imperfection and also calls to mind Alec Ounsworth.
If you're a fan of good 'ol Americana rock 'n' roll, alt country, or alternative folk, then I can't recommend Country Mice's new album, Twister, enough. I've always been a fan of rock 'n' roll with Southern charm and loud, distorted electric guitars, bands like Uncle Tupelo and Drive-By Truckers. Oddly enough, Country Mice are from some place far removed from open roads and the beautiful, golden countryside of the Midwest -- they're from Brooklyn (though three of four members originally hail from the Midwest). The country twang in their sound is matched with moments of delay and reverb-coated guitar riffs that can be just as desolate as they are rousing.
On the bottom lip of the country, there are stretches of road that are seemingly endless. Some are broken up by buildings and other miscellaneous structures, but nothing can hold down the free spirit of that open space. I, of course, can't speak as a native of the area, or a regular visitor, but it's most certainly the type of area where a gaze in one direction or another yields a particular feeling. Sometimes you stare into the pearl of a sky above or the vacuum of the horizon, and, suddenly, your head is flooded with thoughts, questions, and memories. Stuck in the crossroads, you wonder about so many things.
Salesman is an Austin-based quartet with a bluesy soul, rock 'n' roll attitude, and a backbone of Americana. They are the wind in the twilight; the cloud of dust kicked up by an Eldorado; and the sweet sorrow of separation and distance. From sex to UFOs to skulls, Salesman never shy away from the grit of this American life. Singer/guitarist Devin James shouts, howls, and croons, all the while playing the guitar with the spirit of an old southern bluesman. What Made Milwaukee Famous' John Houston Farmer dances in and out of James' picked and plucked notes, laying down filling bass lines along the road. Salesman rock, roll, boogie, swing, and soothe thanks to James' wily yet thoughtful guitar lines. And with a song like "Three Legged Chair," colored by its pedal steel ambiance, Salesman can sound as big as Texas.
They say the road is endless. You hit the road to escape; run away from everything. But eventually, you'll find yourself back where you were before. So here's a slice of pure Americana that's sure to meet you every step of the way. A group of confident voices singing together, joined by their collective emotional weight. Acoustic guitars, mandolin, violin/fiddle, and banjo are some of the only things you're bound to hear through miles and miles of countryside. It's the type of song you'd hear looking out the car window as the comfort of home slowly recedes into the horizon at your back.
