Look out! Time
warp! As soon as I slipped Ric Todd's Drawing Lines
into the CD player it was
suddenly the seventies all over again, only better. Those were good
days for rock, my friends. Larry the K and I worked at Licorice
Pizza in L.A. and San Diego and, man, we were digging the music! We
would get shipments in, put on a rocker like, say, the first REO
Speedwagon or a Scorpions album, and we would rock the store, bopping
heads with an armful of records, heading from section to section
restocking the bins. One time, we passed one another, each playing a
stack of albums like air guitar, leaned back and played a dual lead
together. As soon as the guitar break was over, we headed toward the
racks, laughing.
K
and I recently renewed our friendship after a few decades of little
contact and I think we both realize how golden those days were. We
loved the same music and when we didn't, we tried. We shared our
music like people share air. It just came natural. So when I heard
Todd's EP, I thought of the K. This is classic rock with roots not
unlike that of Pat Travers and Lone Star and early Aerosmith. True,
Todd does not look like the bands of that era (if I didn't know
better, I would have expected Americana or standard singer/songwriter
fare) but he sure as hell sounds like it. And it's only partially in
the guitar.
Most
of it is in the groove because that replaced the ol' hook when pop
gave way to rock. Think Savoy Brown and Foghat and Climax Blues
Band--- louder and softer. Upbeat, unplugged on one of the five
tracks, the other four pure groovers. Like the opening track, Red
Letter:
Got
the idea? Hell of a track with lyrics right up there with
Shakespeare and Longfellow (seriously, this is possibly what they
would be writing if they lived today). Dig this:
I stand
up/Heavy is the hand that's had enough/I stand up/Bury me in lies and
cover me in flies/I stand up/Blacken out the sky with anger/I stand up
(red letter)/You cannot control what I do not submit
You getting this? That's not all. There's a chorus:
A bird in
flight to your quicksand/A hammer strike to your nail/To live a life
that you can't have/Bend now I won't to your will
Man, them's lyrics, Skeezix! None of this rhyming love with
dove or blue with you. This cat stands up! And it doesn't
stop there. Check out the chorus on New Religion:
Because every
time you put your hands on me/I find a new religion/And I just gotta
get my hands up
Beats the hell out of the lyrics of those ol' rock ballads.
The band backs it up, too. Two guitars (probably one of the
guitarists playing bass at times)--- Todd and Dale Heib. Drums
and percussion courtesy of Casey Smith. And they come ready to rock!
Todd handles the vocals and does a damn fine job, Heib nailing down
the high harmonies. They even have a hint of Trower on End of
My Rope.
Sad thing is, this may be my only chance to write about Todd and
crew. I write only about the music I like and then only because they need a leg up. By the time this
album is available everywhere, everyone will get into it. He
will no longer need me to help spread the word. It will spread on
its own.
The dude is from Fargo, sports fans. The last musician I heard from
Fargo was Lucy Black who put out a solo album right after Betty Does
Veronica split up. You might have been watching the TV series. Now
you can hear the music. Buy this EP. Consider it an investment in
happy.
Frank O. Gutch Jr.
(Frank Gutch Jr. writes and has written
for numerous magazines and websites, presently including this blog,
his
own website and the
prestigious Don't
Believe A Word I Say site
put together by musician and music pundit Bob Segarini
out of Toronto. He specializes in the Indies, having fought
hand-to-hand combat with major record labels for decades. He
believes music should be the core of the music business, though
business it mostly be, and denies the accepted reality in the stead
of the artistic one. Seldom does he receive pay for articles and/or
reviews and believes that there is no place for negatives in a world
in which one cannot keep up with the positives. He is, in a sense, a
lost soul in a sea of music, drowning, but drowning gracefully.)
