A honky tonk band gigging in the SF Bay Area can be tough work, very few good twang-friendly clubs, indifferent crowds or ignorant people who shout “yee-haw” whenever they hear a fiddle. A band needs to be hip, have some attitude and a good sense of humor helps too. Despite their curious name, 77 El Deora has all three covered in spades. Out front is the double-barreled weaponry of Maurice Tani's witty songwriting and the strong lead vocals of Jenn Courtney. Tani is a master at the play on word and like early Robbie Fulks, respects the tradition of classic country themes, but with a contemporary twist. On “The Devil In My Ear” he takes the call from the girl even though he's gonna do things he'll regret and give more than he gets. He also deftly writes from the female perspective whether it's “Bad Boy” or “Orange Jumpsuit”, a song about dating a convict where “he was armed but I was charmed” Jenn sings ‘em all with with true “conviction”. A great little disc that I hope gets heard outside of their usual haunts.

It's really a pleasure when a new artist comes out of the gate at a full gallop, as Mando Saenz does with this debut. Born in Mexico, San Luis Potosi to be exact, and raised in Texas, an admitted latecomer to this career, his music is a harmonious blend of dolorous Mexicano influences and the lonesome vistas evoked by Buddy Miller and Townes Van Zandt. There is a professionalism inherent in this recording that belies its premiere status. Saenz' approach to his craft is uncompromising, both in production and performance; he knows what he wants, and how it should sound, settling for nothing less. Takes some guys two or three kicks before they get that polished. The backing musicians set a flawless stage for Saenz' delivery, the work of Tommy Detamore on assorted guitars, and Bobby Flores' fiddle and mandolin being particularly delightful, and, of course, there has to be some accordion, that's de rigueur down that-away. It's a pretty nice first package; check out clips of “Julia” and “When I Come Around” at his web site to hear what I'm talking about.

Best songs: Get a Life, St. Olav's gate, Malmo Mama, On Bended Knee, Louis Riel, Invitation to the Blues. There is an "unofficial" Doug Sahm site, that's OK, and has some links.  Released Oct. '98, reviewed by Bill Frater.

ROBIN DEAN SALMON
Gasoline... (Paul Street)

This is Salmon's eighth release, but it's a first listen for this writer, and a pretty damn good starting point for a musical introduction. Imagine Buddy Holly doing “The Houston Kid” and you'll be as close as damn is to swearing in getting a grip on Gasoline. Aided and abetted by a plethora of Nashville's finest sidemen, and a duet with Rodney Crowell on “Maybe I Do”, Gasoline is a showcase for lyrics that not only rhyme, they say something intelligent to boot, which, unfortunately, isn't all that common in much music these days. If you're looking for a list of standout tracks, forget it; there's nary a dud to be found on this baby. Well, OK, the afore-mentioned “Maybe I Do” has the makings of a classic, but then so does “Baby Please Try”, “Echo Of You”…, oh, to hell with it, just pick this one up and see if you don't agree as I do, when Rodney says: “Robin Salmon is smart, funny, poetic and in possession of a melodic wit. Anyone got a problem with that?” Look for this one in a Best of 2006 list.

COLLEEN SILLVER
American Boys ...(Mustang)

It's intriguing at times how a geographical change can subtly influence a musical genre, the case in point here being bluegrass. There's a difference between the version as practiced on the west coast, and that performed in its habitual stronghold, the Appalachian/Smokey corridor. Colleen Sillver's debut would be an example of the former, strong on traditional instrumentation, musically faithful to the genre, yet difficult to pigeonhole as being ‘conventional'. Since she calls North Monterey County in California home these days, maybe it's the aridity of the desert and high mesas that changes the timbre of the stringed instruments from that imparted by the humid and fog-shrouded hollows of the east? Highly unlikely. Bluegrass originally was a form of quasi-rebellion and surcease against “the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune”, the poverty, the droughts, the rapacious landowners, that plagued the poor of the Southeast, and here's what's missing from most western versions: that undercurrent of desperation, despair, even dancing while the house burns down around you, that lurks just beneath the surface of traditional bluegrass. Western bluegrass, for the most part, hasn't been tempered by the fires of adversity. What does all of this have to do with Colleen Sillver, and American Boys in particular? Well, it's fourteen original, and mostly upbeat, songs by Sillver that are strong on the afore-mentioned instrumentation, some very nice fiddle, mandolin, and banjo at work here. Lyrically, however, this disc is a case of where less would have been more. There is a finite amount of words that can be comfortably conjoined within any particular bar of music; pushing the envelope further produces a rushed and breathless effect, as in, for instance, the title track, and, “Trains Going By”. It's not the type of content so much as the quantity taken to express that content that's at issue here. Bluegrass doesn't need to be tinged with melancholy to be good, but it does need to be precise and succinct.

SIX MILE GROVE
Bumper Crop... (self-released)

Of late, there's been some pretty darn good music coming from over Minnesota way, and Bumper Crop, the Grove's fourth release, only enhances that impression. What's the buzz? Good, cleanly played, alt/country music that is rooted in the, (well, how else to say it?), the roots of early rock and roll. In those days, a band didn't need a whole shit-load of instrumentation to make great tunes, if they got the recipe right. The four guys of Six Mile Grove, brothers Brian and Brendan Sampson, drums and rhythm/lead vocals respectively, with Barry Nelson and Dezi Wallace doing everything else, have got it right enough to elicit praise from the likes of Jeff Hanna, Nitty Gritty Dirt Band, and Bob Wootton, Johnny Cash and The Tennessee Three. Not too shabby for four youngsters from Lyle, (pop. 500), Mn., who, incidentally, happen to write all of their own stuff. Maybe it's true that people from those small towns really do see and hear better than most of us urbanites.

Slide guitar, washboard, banjo and bass –the three members of Skeeter Truck debut as a force with their fast-pickin, original songs and great feeling. The tear sheet talks about the usual wide range of musical influences, Blues, Bluegrass, Rock, but their sound reflects the difference between imitating their influences and actually integrating those influences to make a fun and interesting CD that says more bout the present than the past. How many bands use the banjo to drive a tune? And it works, and it's fun, and it makes you want to see them live. Instrumentals mix with songs on this CD – all energetically delivered with a tremendous amount of skill and humor. Their style is bare bones and simple which allows the space to hear how talented Skeeter Truck is; This CD is a good time in a jewel case.

I have a hard time writing about Todd Snider albums and I'm not exactly sure why. I've meant to write reviews of his last 3 CD's and just never got ‘em finished. Just like his last few studio CD's East Nashville Skyline and New Connection, Todd mixes tender love ballads with funny and sardonic humor. He mixes styles up too, from solo acoustic to Stonesy rockers and maybe that's what bothers me. He leans heavier on the hard stuff here and tries to push his frail voice over the guitars and it doesn't always work. “You Got Away With It” is a brilliant send-up of George Bush without mentioning any names. More of these kinds of tunes would be good. “Looking For A Job” also works about a sheet rocker telling his boss off. "Thin Wild Mercury", is about an argument between Bob Dylan (who called his own Blonde On Blonde “thin, wild mercury music”) and folk singer Phil Ochs. Those'll be the ones that make it on his box set someday, and I hope he has a long and successful enough career to have one. I love the guy and his 'Aw Shucks' attitude but this one won't be remembered as one of his best albums.

Favorite songs: Medicine Hat, Flow, Dead Man's Clothes,  Carry You Down, Streets That Time Walks, Hanging Blue Side. Warner's has a band site, with tour dates. Released Oct. '98. Reviewed by Bill Frater.

I've always had a soft spot for a band that drops in a few cover tunes, whether on an album or on live shows; playing someone else's song can be an opportunity to show your influences or your eclectic tastes, and a good band can even find a different, unexpected take on an old song. SCOTS's new album does all of that and more, putting their own unique quirky stamp on 15 old rock and country chestnuts, most of them from the 60's. .From the oft-covered “Oh Lonesome Me” and “Tobacco Road,” to the never-covered Kink's “Muswell Hillbilly” and the Who's “Happy Jack,” it's a great ride from start to finish. Head Skids Rick Miller produces, and his sinewy reverb-laden guitar settings are inspired as always. As usual, Mary Huff joins him on most songs with harmony that owes more to John and Exene than to Conway and Loretta. Like a wedding band from a parallel galaxy, they have created a rollicking sound, and a twisted masterpiece.

SCOTS Shack. Yep Roc's SCOTS page. Buy from amazon. Released Feb. '07.  Reviewed by Bill Frater.

SPADY
The Long Way Around and Other Short Stories... (Post Script)

Is it possible for an artist to be ‘too' polished? Sometimes. According to his bio, Richard ‘Spady' Brannan has been in the business for nigh on forty years, touring with, writing for, sessioning for, just about everyone who's ever been ‘someone' in mainstream country music. Go to www.spadybrannan for verification. The trouble is, both here and with much of the mainstream, that there's been too much emphasis placed upon perfection. There's nary a note out of place, not a miscue to be heard, which is admittedly preferable to suffering through a bungling bozo band for sure, but it's just too damned perfect and sterile. It's not as if the man can't write; he's got some very good stuff happening here, “Trouble with Words”, “Trying to Hold the Wind”, some good Lee Roy Parnell slide work on “Fireflies” to hit a few. But… drum lead-ins for seven of eleven cuts? Eeuw, that's a bit formulaic Spady. You look from your photos as if you've got more than a few miles on your odometer, give us some of the rougher ones next time around.

Spady's site. Buy from amazon. Released Oct. '06, reviewed by Don Grant.

DOUG SPARTZ & FRIENDS
American Stories, Lies & Tales... (Phono)

Quite simply and succinctly, you'd be hard put to find a better compilation of Americana than this independent offering by Doug Spartz et. al. Starting with the tear-jerking vocals of the opening cut, “Number 29 (The Rocket)”, the listener knows that this one is ‘the real McCoy'. Next up is a swinging little ditty called, perversely, “Nothin' Much”. If this toe-tapper is nothing much, I don't know if we could take ‘something much'. “Love Minus Zero”, featuring Billy Lee Riley, is a do not miss version of the Dylan classic. All told, there are a grand total of sixteen tracks on this anthology of Americana. Anthology? “Wake Me Up And Slap Me”, “Hot Rod Lincoln”, “Sunshine”…, yup, that's what an anthology would be. Although almost half of the tunes are originals, the whole project gels so well that one has to check the credits to pick the new ones out. A personal favourite here is “Fall of ‘64”, with its bittersweet line: “Dyin' boys are staring at the angels standing there, nuthin' here is civil in the fall of ‘64', Jesus can't help cryin' in the fall of ‘64”. It never ceases to amaze and impress me how a good songwriter can describe and convey so much in a few short lines. Have a cigar for this one Doug; ‘tis a very good show indeed.

RICK SPREITZER
from the bottom... (self-released)

The opening chords of this CD told me that I was on to something good, something very good. Track one, “roll back”, has a cool bluegrass pulse that features some excellent fiddle and banjo, and the momentum builds from there. Yes, there's a definite bluegrass influence happening here, it's bluegrass a la Steve Earle, who Spreitzer incidentally not only has a passing vocal resemblance to, but at times could be mistaken for lyrically. Not having heard either of his first two releases, Dirt Tracks and Meanderthal, (gotta like that title), it's difficult to assess his performing evolution, but stuff like this doesn't happen merely by chance, you can count on that. With the stellar assistance of a retinue of some of North Carolina's finer musicians, Spreitzer has produced a disc that can more than hold its own alongside some of the best that the Americana genre has to offer. He has garnered a whole raft of songwriting awards over the past few years, and the first listen to this gem affirms the perceptiveness of those judges. Individual track credits are not provided for his several female backing vocalists, which is a shame, because I could perhaps be persuaded to fall in love with more than just the music herein.

If you haven't heard about this CD yet, this is nothing like anything Bruce has done before. He's covering songs associated with the great folk singer Pete Seeger, who I will also assume you know who he is. Given today's political climate, I expected to hear more of the protest and civil right songs but other than the beautiful “Eyes On The Prize” and the title tune it's mostly old public domain songs like “Froggie Went A Courtin'” and “Old Dan Tucker”. The remarkable factor is the use of a huge, yet never overpowering, band that features banjo, fiddles, accordion and a second-line horn section. It all comes together quite nicely and gets pretty rollicking sometimes. He treats long forgotten gems like “Mary Don't You Weep” with great reverence and even transforms the over-done “John Henry” into something new and fresh. I suppose this is true Americana music, drawing on bluegrass banjo, Cajun music and gospel and traditional jazz and more. It's a nice ride, if you love or at least don't mind Bruce's vocal style, the way he shouts everything out. This could be the revival of hootenannies!

While I'm certain that all of us have a bit of a love/hate relationship with computers and digital technology, occasionally a reason comes down the pipe that makes me, at any rate, say, “Gee, these things have some redeeming features”. Given the obsession of the brand names with quarterly earnings and pop-culture marketability, it is unlikely that this little gem would have found its way to my doorstep without the assistance of the afore-mentioned irritants. Produced by bassist Caleb Garn in the basement of their Minneapolis duplex, The Soundtrack To My Minneapolis is the debut release of singer/songwriter/multi-instrumentalist Joshua Stuckey, (Stook). His music and voice have been compared to Tom Petty's, which is acceptable, so long as the music definition is restricted to his early work, when he was still gutsy. If a comparison is needed, then I'd go with the Rolling Stones when they forayed into country in the early Seventies: raw and raunchy, (“When It All Comes Crashing Down”, “Deliverance From Your Eyes”, “She Tried To Break My Heart”), then suddenly detouring into quieter and more pensive territory, (“22 nd Street”, “One Blue Teardrop”, “I Keep On Falling In Love With You”). What's more, Stook can tickle the ivories as well as Nicky Hopkins, and he's got some riffs that are Richard's equal; his writing speaks/sings for itself. This one is most definitely not one of those pain-in-the-ass “illegal operations”.

While Southern California is probably better known for movie stars and beaches than banjos and high tenors, there has always been a flourishing music scene and bluegrass has always been part of it. Based around San Diego at the bottom of the Golden State, Chris Stuart and Backcountry deliver a CD of solid original music..You don't picture this band in suits and tight collars but then, when you don't have to play so fast to keep warm, you can loosen up the tempo and give the music the relaxed feel of the coast itself- not that they can't pick up the pace when warranted. The CD opens with a banjo driven Dollar Bill Blues (Townes VanZandt) the only cover on a 12 song collection of songs I would file under Bluegrass/Americana. Nice harmonies with Stuart, bassist Mason Tuttle and banjo player Janet Beazley with fine guitar/banjo work by Ivan Rosenberg. Favorite songs include the banjo driven The Jealous Crow, Dollar Bill Blues, the countrified Time Was, and the upbeat, Take Me into Your Heart The presentation of CS&B CDs is always a treat, with beautiful artwork and packaging. Potsy says check it out.

Trent Summar has been kickin' around Nashville for a while now. Known for his high energy shows, I've associated his music with that of Jason & the Scorchers and The Drive By Truckers: punk country. On Horseshoes & Hand Grenades the production has a rockin' edge, but the songs are mostly straight-ahead, hook-filled Nashville Country, like that heard on any AM station. His voice reminds me of Jimmy Buffett or, dare I say, Tracy Lawrence. A few tracks didn't wow me: “Pink John Deere,” a song about a girl who drives a tractor, is about as stupid a song as they come. There are, however, a few good songs, when he comes down to earth, but much of the album sounds like he's trying to write a country hit. I can't fault a guy for wanting to pay the rent, but I was hoping for something better.

Released in late '98. Order directly from their website, Sundogs.com. Reviewed by Bill Frater

SUNSHONE STILL
Dead Letters... (Catfish)

Chris Smith could be called a latter-day Townes Van Zandt, without that beaten-down, running on fumes aura. Dead Letters is an objective collection of a dozen songs that explore the obverse side of life, love, and the road, without wallowing in the self-pity that can infect an imprudent writer. Nobody likes to listen to a whiner, but everyone can empathize with someone who has come up a day late and a dollar short; it's pretty familiar territory. Taking the hits and retaining one's optimism, as in “Saturday's in the Sky”, is an endearing and all too rare quality in our society of ‘victims'. Three years in the making, Smith has poured his heart into this one, without making a sanguinary mess. Skip the Kleenex here, just sit back and commiserate- Yup, I've hoed in that particular row before.

Just when the weather's getting colder, a breath of warm Texas air shows up in the form of Sunny Sweeney's debut CD. It takes a Texan to do real country music these days and Heartbreaker's Hall Of Fame honors honky tonk with enough of an edge to even satisfy us liberals. Her sound is traditional and twangy and her band can certainly rock, especially lead guitarist Lars Albrecht and fiddler Bobby Flores. This reminds me of Emmylou's first albums: tasty originals mixed with good covers, and an all-around tight band. Her voice has that lonesome twang to it that just can't be faked, like that of Loretta Lynn, Iris DeMent and even Kasey Chambers. Her own songs stand up to covers of such artists as Jim Lauderdale, Keith Sykes, Audrey Auld and Tim Carroll. The latter's rockin' “If I Could” is a highlight of this solid collection. I can't think of the last time I picked a debut release for my top ten of the year, but this one is just too good to ignore.