Tuesday, July 7, 2009

How Do You Say It?

I love music. I love all kinds of music. The only thing I love more than music is story. I hate when I'm trying to tell someone about something amazing and lose all my ability to bring words to the page. I truly love the words and music of Swamp Voodoo. These guys are amazing; there's no style of music that they don't know. They know it all, cold. Cold, like it's their only style. They know everything Latin, everything burlesque, everything rockabilly, and everything else.

They spin out their stories in mini-epics, each having its own movements and flavors. The gritty mumbling of front man, Slick Black Truck Drivin' Man is almost an undercurrent in the smooth river of jazz or samba or two step. The sidemen are perfect together. You can almost see the club's stage lights glinting off Gato's sax as you listen to it weaving through the complex counterpoint between T-Time and Dapper Dan. The bass and drums work to make a story of their own.

All the members of the extended Black clan are represented in stories throughout the site. The Outlaw Man, Daisy May, Gerome. The New York City Woman that may or may not been seen by another relation. I love them all. How can I explain to those that have never heard these songs? If I said that a guy heard of LSD when he was three years old and moved to NYC in search of mind expanding experiences, would you think I had lost my mind? Or expanded it?

But again, the best part of this amazing experience is the story. The reading of the adventures of Slick Black and Ol' Betty cannot be fathomed. There cannot be many of the truck driving brotherhood who can have seen the sorts of things that Slick Black has seen. He has met those shimmering otherworldly types, and they have come bearing...whiskey.

So join me at www.myspace.com/swampvodoo or at www.swampvoodoo.com and see what I mean. I love Swamp Voodoo. I love the body moving rhythms that T-Time and Dapper Dan lay down. I love the smoke that emanates from Gato's sax and weaves right in with my soul. And I love the low voiced muttering of Slick Black. Yeah, and the alien whiskey.

No comments:

Post a Comment