Earl Greyhound: Succeeding Where Others Fail

Shortly after the 2006 release of Soft Targets, I was introduced to Earl Greyhound by a friend who said something to the effect of, “You have to check this shit out.” I did indeed check that shit out and it was some of the freshest 1970s retreading I’d heard in a long time. Earl Greyhound traffic in an excellent combination of 70s stadium rock and 1990s Lollapalooza stoner rock. Doesn’t sound like it should be an appetizing dish, I know, but Soft Targets was a tasty treat. It was an underrated guitar rock record, the sort of thing I might use as a critical palate-cleanser when wading through myriad new releases and reviewing them for the loyal fortyish people who read Bollocks! five days a week. That is, it was an easy, fun listen that didn’t do anything new but also didn’t do anything wrong.

Proving that they’re in no mood to fix what ain’t broke, the Brooklyn trio is back with Suspicious Package, an album that is maybe a little more hippie-dippy than Soft Targets was, but is still carried by three musicians who play with fiery fucking abandon. There’s nothing new under Suspicious Package‘s sun, but it’s breezy retro fun, loud and stupid the way the best classic rock is (see AC/DC for evidence). Singer/guitarist Matt Whyte makes up for his tendency to sound like that flowing-shirted dipshit from Maroon 5 (especially on the croonier tracks) by tossing off Guitar Hero-ready riffs with the ease of a seasoned garage-jammer, while drummer Ricc (Two c’s? Really?) Sheridan and bassist/keyboardist/other vocalist Kamara Thomas keep the rhythms galloping along. If you liked Soft Targets, you will like Suspicious Package, as long as you don’t pay too much attention to the lyrics.

Like Blitzen Trapper’s Furr, Suspicious Package is strong on catchy melodies and simple-yet-effective instrumentation but a little goofy lyrically. We can probably just let “Shotgun” stand as a prime example and move on. You don’t listen to this kind of music for lyrical poetry, though; you listen to it while you’re rippin’ high. Which invites another Blitzen Trapper comparison; though both bands might deny it, at their best, both Blitzen Trapper and Earl Greyhound make pretty perfect stoner music. While I myself am not a stoner, I have a great affinity for the pot-smoking people because I feel that, in a nation of prescription pill-popping, Jaeger-and-Red-Bull swilling alcoholics, the weed folks get a raw deal. The best stoner rock, though, should be enjoyable to the non-toking public, which is where Blitzen Trapper failed with this year’s Destroyer of the Void; they forgot to make it interesting to people who don’t smoke their weight in weed every day. For the most part, Suspicious Package keeps it brief and always musically interesting. The vocal interplay between Whyte and Thomas adds a dimension Destroyer of the Void lacked, despite the fact that Blitzen Trapper has several capable singers.

The other great strength of Earl Greyhound is that they seem more earnestly lodged in the past than their retro-brethren – where bands like Jet are merely interested in selling the past (Remember their total “Sexy Sadie” ripoff? The one called “Look What You’ve Done”? Wasn’t that song fucking stupid? I mean, you can defend it if you want, but John Lennon and I will be waiting in Hell to beat some sense into you), the folks in Earl Greyhound seem to genuinely identify with the flower-power and bell-bottoms lifestyle and I’m not gonna give them grief for that if they keep making albums as aurally exciting as Soft Targets and Suspicious Package. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: the retro thing is a fickle mistress. Plenty of bands fuck it up (why, hello there, Brian Setzer!) and some bands do it just about right, like Earl Greyhound and Oasis on What’s the Story, Morning Glory. I think where bands go wrong with the retro thing is that they try a little too hard to represent the era of their infatuation. Brian Setzer is downright pathetic with his 1950s greaser shtick and I think the Gaslight Anthem ought to be in counseling to address their overwhelming desire to be Tom Waits listening to Born to Run on a bus ride through the Midwest at midnight (where the Hold Steady’s Craig Finn is somehow the bus driver). But Earl Greyhound is honoring their record collection without ever wearing it like a Halloween costume, and that’s really just a roundabout way of complimenting them for keeping things as unassuming as possible. I’m guessing that’s why I hear as many nods to the Pixies on Suspicious Package as I do to Led Zeppelin.

Suspicious Package, along with (probably) the Living Sisters record, is a compelling argument against the year-end best-of list that every critic busts out at the end of every year. Allow me to explain: I don’t think Earl Greyhound has made the best album of 2010, in any musically quantifiable way, but Suspicious Package, much like it’s predecessor, is a whole lot of fucking fun. Every time I hear “Oye Vaya” (Spanish for “Go Hear”, according to Google Translate – as you can tell, we do exhaustive research here at Bollocks!) or “Out of Air”, I feel like I’m hearing the music Lenny Kravitz has wet dreams about making , but he lacks, by a damn sight, the musical chops to pull this stuff off. Kravitz is probably worse than Brian Setzer, by the way, because Kravitz released a couple of shitty singles, a shittier cover of a shitty song, posed for some photos, and had himself declared the next Jimi Hendrix. Brian Setzer is at least a poor (or stupid) man’s Mike Ness (if you don’t know who Mike Ness is, go get the first Social Distortion record. Right. Now). Anyway: I couldn’t honestly tell you that Suspicious Package is one of the best records of the year, but I’d be pretty surprised if you like rock music and didn’t find something on this album to entertain you. And if you are a true-blue stoner, I’m sure your dealer will just stash a copy of Suspicious Package in your next dime bag.

Believe the Hype: 8 Guitarists Who Are Rated Exactly Right

If I’m gonna sit here like a jerk and tell you that some of your favorite guitar players are vastly overrated (I am and they are), I think it’s only fair to share with you some guitar players that I think are worth every ounce of hype and adoration they receive, starting with…

1. Angus Young. I know the schoolboy outfit is a gimmick and I know that AC/DC has recorded the same album like twenty times at this point, but the fact remains that a lot of AC/DC’s songs are fucking fun. And Angus Young is a large part of the reason. The dude basically exists to play sizzling riffs while Brian Johnson (the almost instantaneous reincarnation of Bon Scott) chokes on snot to some sort of melody. Angus Young’s playing is somewhere between brick stupid and elegantly simple, but it’s beautiful, goddammit. You plug your guitar in and play “Thunderstruck” or “Highway to Hell” and just try not to have an erection. I dare you.

2. Slash. Slash has never been in a band I liked. But the fact remains that the dude is one helluva guitar player. There are probably people who think that Guns ‘n’ Roses owed whatever brilliance they ever had to Axl Rose’s lyrics and voice; those people are wrong. I don’t listen to “Paradise City” when I’m out at the bars because Axl Rose (who is now just a chunky white dude with cornrows) is a great singer. I listen to every fucking note that Slash plays on that song, though. Despite the fact that he has inspired countless shitty guitarists (many of whom now plague your radio), he has also inspired the likes of Tad Kubler (of the Hold Steady, a.k.a. America’s Finest Rock Band). Slash’s playing is fluid and melodic and always entertaining and he deserves the reverence he receives, even if the bands he plays in do not.

3. Jimi Hendrix. If you’re youngish like me, there may have been a time in your life when you just stopped giving a shit about Jimi Hendrix. Perhaps (and this is just hypothetical) your alcoholic stepdad and all his asshole buddies would pound can after can of shitty beer while rocking out to “Purple Haze” and you just got to a point where you were like, “Fuck those guys and everything they love.” But with the distance of time – you’re an adult now, remember? – you can reevaluate Jimi Hendrix on his own merits. And here’s the shocking thing: the magazines and all the stupid pundits (those dimwits who think “Stairway to Heaven” is the highest musical achievement in the history of humankind) got exactly one thing right. Jimi Hendrix is probably the best guitarist ever. In terms of tone and melodic capability and just sheer fiery awesomeness, no one can touch Hendrix. Listen to “Little Wing” or “Bold as Love” or “The Wind Cries Mary” or “Red House” (the opening notes of which tell you pretty much all you will ever need to know about playing the electric guitar) and see for yourself. If we had more statues of Jimi Hendrix than churches in this country, I think we’d really be getting somewhere.

4. Keith Richards. This only works if you pretend the Rolling Stones died in like 1978, but just listen to “Honky Tonk Women.” Richards’ playing on that song alone is downright iconic. He’s not the greatest ever or anything, but Keith Richards has played some of the most memorable riffs in modern music.

5. Brian May built his own guitar and paired it with the impressive vocal stylings of Freddie Mercury (I don’t care if you like Queen or not, Mercury was one of the best vocalists in the history of rock. That dude had range that kids today are wise not to strive for) and proceeded to bridge the gap between glam and hair metal. From “Fat Bottomed Girls” to “Bohemian Rhapsody,” Brian May has one of the most distinctive (and envy-inducing, at least in me) guitar sounds in music. Guitarists whose tone I would kill for: Jimi Hendrix, Eric Johnson, Brian May. Probably in that order.

6. Stevie Ray Vaughan died twenty years ago today, and that was too fucking soon. Though he was at times uncomfortably obsessed with Jimi Hendrix (and his cover of “Voodoo Chile (Slight Return)” is more than worthy), SRV brought the blues to the people in the 19-fucking-80s, when everyone was all, “I’ma buy a keyboard and listen to Flock of Seagulls.” That is, he made the blues matter in an era when nothing did. Stevie Ray Vaughan is the reason I bothered to find out who Elmore James was (listen to SRV’s version of “The Sky is Crying” and you’ll understand that Stevie Ray knew how to pay his elders some respect) and he played the guitar the best way anyone can: like he was in a fight with God.

7. Pete Townshend. Like Keith Richards, you have to pretend Townshend died before he got old (I believe it was Kurt Cobain who once quipped, “I hope I die before I become Pete Townshend.” And then he shot himself), just like he and Daltrey said they wanted to (Keith Moon was the only guy in that band with any fucking follow-through, I guess). But if you do that, you can look at albums like Who’s Next and rejoice. Townshend didn’t have to bust out big solos to make his musical points (though dog knows he was capable of it) and he could compose real songs. And he did that windmill thing which absolutely does not help you play the guitar in any way, but it looked cool back in the day. As an early master of three-chord rock ‘n roll, Townshend is at least part of the reason we have guys like Angus Young right now.

8. Eric Johnson. You might think that I would lump Eric Johnson in with those annoying shred guys, but I won’t. Johnson’s compositions wander around from dull new agey hippie shit to blues to jazz and back again, showing an interest in playing a wide variety of music rather than just proving he’s technically brilliant (which he is). His range and tone set him so far ahead of the pack of solo guitarists that they can’t even see his dust to eat it. And “Cliffs of Dover” is still almost stupidly excellent. End of story.

So now you know who is overrated and who is properly rated (in my opinion). Next time, I’ll talk to you about some guitarists who are underrated and need your love right now (including, at last, one female guitarist. I’m not trying to be sexist in compiling these lists, but there are so few female guitarists out there, at least that I’ve heard. And Joni Mitchell doesn’t count because she’s boring. Perhaps I’ll make it my mission to find awesome female guitarists and tell you all about them in a later list). Until then, go listen to some of the guys on this list!