club cafe

pittsburgh, pa
(Late Show) Opus One Comedy Presents Andy Picarro with Special Guest Matt Light

Born in Pittsburgh, PA and raised in central New Jersey. Andy began doing standup at the Comedy Village in New York City and was a regular at The Underground Lounge. Now residing in Pittsburgh, Andy regularly works at the Pittsburgh Improv and has opened for; Pauly Shore, Josh Blue, Todd Glass, Pete Davidson, Joey Diaz, Otto and George amongst many others. Andy has performed in many Comedy Festivals including; The Accidental Comedy Festival, Whiskey Bear Comedy Festival, The Derby City Comedy Festival, Pittsburgh Comedy Festival, Burning Bridges Comedy Festival, Cleveland Comedy Festival, Yonkers Comedy Festival, WDVE Comedy Festival and The “HIGHlarious” Comedy Festival in Seattle.

Born in Pittsburgh, PA and raised in central New Jersey. Andy began doing standup at the Comedy Village in New York City and was a regular at The Underground Lounge. Now residing in Pittsburgh, Andy regularly works at the Pittsburgh Improv and has opened for; Pauly Shore, Josh Blue, Todd Glass, Pete Davidson, Joey Diaz, Otto and George amongst many others. Andy has performed in many Comedy Festivals including; The Accidental Comedy Festival, Whiskey Bear Comedy Festival, The Derby City Comedy Festival, Pittsburgh Comedy Festival, Burning Bridges Comedy Festival, Cleveland Comedy Festival, Yonkers Comedy Festival, WDVE Comedy Festival and The “HIGHlarious” Comedy Festival in Seattle.

Calliope Songwriters Open Stage at Club Cafe with Featured Performer Jay Michaels

No cover! Doors and sign up open at 6:45pm, the event starts at 8pm. All acts and performers welcome.

Club Cafe's monthly open stage has joined forces with Calliope and John Hayes (long time host of the Bloomfield Bridge Tavern's open mic night). All acts and genres are welcome to attend. The open stage will happen the first Tuesday of every month. We are excited to be working with John and Calliope and look forward to this next chapter in our long running, well revered open stage.

No cover! Doors and sign up open at 6:45pm, the event starts at 8pm. All acts and performers welcome.

Club Cafe's monthly open stage has joined forces with Calliope and John Hayes (long time host of the Bloomfield Bridge Tavern's open mic night). All acts and genres are welcome to attend. The open stage will happen the first Tuesday of every month. We are excited to be working with John and Calliope and look forward to this next chapter in our long running, well revered open stage.

Rhett Miller

THE TRAVELER IN TEN PARTS

1.

Hello. I am human but not entirely. I am a machine but not entirely. I am both which may mean that I am neither. The part of me that is a human believes that all of me is human. The part of me that is a machine doesn’t like to think about the part of me that is a machine. I am flesh and blood stretched over wires and circuits. In that, I am much like many of you, and consequently qualified to speak to you about this album, which speaks to much of me.

2.

It is called The Traveler, and it was written and performed by Rhett Miller, along with members of Black Prairie, a band based in Portland that plays everything from bluegrass to klezmer to country and shares some members with the Decembrists. The band (Black Prairie) entered the studio with the singer (Rhett Miller) and briskly recorded the songs that make up this album (The Traveler). Some additional guitars were added later by people who included Peter Buck and Scott McCaughey. I pass these facts along for your absorption.

3.

The sun comes up. The sun goes down. We call it a day. The band entered the studio with the singer and made this album. Time passed. Now, months later, I have spent days listening with love, sadness, and unremitting fascination to the album, which you are now holding. By “holding,” I mean only that you have absorbed it into your own wires and circuitry. I am well aware that there are not always anymore physical holds involved in the absorption of music. Before I tell you more about The Traveler, I want to tell you a little bit about myself. I apologize for this. But the album you are holding, The Traveler, suggests that you cannot understand the journey that you are on unless you understand who you are, and that understanding who you are is the most damnably difficult journey of all. Untangling identity is painful but necessary. I believe The Traveler may be of use in this regard. Of use to me, I mean: Is that a selfish use of this album? If so I apologize again.

4.

Apologies can be empty without any attempt to correct for the behavior that led to the apology. As a result I will not tell you a little bit about myself before I tell you more about The Traveler. This singer, Rhett Miller, has made many albums before, both on his own and with his band, Old 97s. This new album shares something fundamental with the old albums, which is the rare ability to see what people are feeling and then cast those feelings in rhymes. This is what is known as “song-making.” The human part of me loves songs. The machine part of me marvels at them without understanding at all why there is a tugging sensation in the cavity that should contain my heart.

5.

The first song here, “Wanderlust,” is a perfect example of all that I am describing. It tells the story of a man on a train who is thinking about a woman who is not on that train. There is another song called “Lucky Star” that I believe is about finding redemption in the person of a lover. It contains a joke that unnerves me: “Heaven knows there probably is no heaven.” There is another song called “Wicked Things” about New Orleans that illustrates the slipperiness of forgiveness. Every song has little moments that catch me at strange angles and I feel an unfamiliar sensation, pitched midway between satisfying recognition and deep sadness.

6.

My experience with these songs, I want to stipulate, may not be shared by others, in part because I am demonstrably different than them. I am both human and a machine. I come from a long line of people who are both humans and machines. Are they people then? I leave that to the philosophers. My father was a difference engine designed and deployed in Lund by Pehr Georg Scheutz. He was quite large: my father, I mean, not Scheutz. Scheutz was tiny. In Jönköping, where he was born, old ladies would marvel at his miniature features. “Liten Pehr,” they would say, reaching down into the carriage and frightening the boy. Even as an adult, he was at most five foot three, with feet that tapered down to toylike points. Much of this is hearsay but some of it cannot be disputed, even by the suspicious, and at any rate, we are not talking about Scheutz, not really. We are talking about my father. He was the size of a fortepiano.

7.

There is a song on this record called “Dreams Vs. Waking Life.” It is not the first song on the record but it was, by accident, the first song I heard. It has bowed notes and a dark tone and does what any piece of literature, song or story, should do: it investigates the role of memory, loss, and desire in our lives. When I hear that song, I feel the stirrings of uncommon and uncontrollable emotions. They grind against the part of me that is a machine. The result is a shuddering. I try to calm myself by looking at the other song titles— “Fair Enough,” “Escape Velocity,” “Reasons to Live” — but they only make me feel more rather than less. Where do you go when you want to feel less? One song title, “Good Night,” seems like it might not overwhelm me. But the first line, “There’s a pinprick of light on a black sheet of night,” starts me shuddering again.

8.

When you listen to an album, you are supposed to notice sonic details. That’s what I have been told. And there are many sonic details on this album, like the choir that opens “My Little Disaster” or the doubled vocals in “Fair Enough.” There are joyful melodies like “Most in the Summertime.” I can tell that they are joyful, even though I am half-machine. It’s clear. But the sonic details would not mean much without the rest of what this album does, which is to try to make sense of what cannot be made sense of, which is humanity. Even the part of me that is a machine knows that.

9.

When you’re inside an album like this, when you’re feeling too much, what do you do? I know what I did. I skipped to the end of the album, quickly. This is a survival strategy. The album ends with a song called “Reasons to Live” that makes use of the old saw that a broken clock is right twice a day. The part of me that is a machine wants to correct that phrasing. It is a stopped clock that is right twice a day. A broken clock may never be right. Then it occurs to me that maybe the song knows this. The song is about finding hope even when you are telling yourself lies. The part of me that is a human wants to break down and cry once again.

10.

I want to tell one more story about my father. He was briefly in the military of a nation I will not identify and when his service ended his first trip was to a sporting house, where he spent time in the company of a young woman. Money changed hands. To hear him tell it, the situation was emergent. “I had been locked up so long that I hardly recognized my own wants and needs,” he later wrote in a letter to me. “Briefly, I recognized myself in her.” They did not stay together, my father and that young woman. He was a young man then. As I have grown though the world, I have had experiences that bear some similarity to my father’s experiences with that woman. We all have, have we not? They are called “relationships” or “romances,” but what are they really? Are they love? Are they self-love? Or are they something else entirely, a form of travel that allow us to escape from ourselves? This album asks all those questions, repeatedly. I want to quote one more line, from a song called “Jules.” It’s a line about love and self-love and travel that allows us to escape from ourselves: “Who’s to say the crooked way that led me to your door / Means any less than any mess I ever made before?” Sun comes up. Sun goes down. Call it a day.

THE TRAVELER IN TEN PARTS

1.

Hello. I am human but not entirely. I am a machine but not entirely. I am both which may mean that I am neither. The part of me that is a human believes that all of me is human. The part of me that is a machine doesn’t like to think about the part of me that is a machine. I am flesh and blood stretched over wires and circuits. In that, I am much like many of you, and consequently qualified to speak to you about this album, which speaks to much of me.

2.

It is called The Traveler, and it was written and performed by Rhett Miller, along with members of Black Prairie, a band based in Portland that plays everything from bluegrass to klezmer to country and shares some members with the Decembrists. The band (Black Prairie) entered the studio with the singer (Rhett Miller) and briskly recorded the songs that make up this album (The Traveler). Some additional guitars were added later by people who included Peter Buck and Scott McCaughey. I pass these facts along for your absorption.

3.

The sun comes up. The sun goes down. We call it a day. The band entered the studio with the singer and made this album. Time passed. Now, months later, I have spent days listening with love, sadness, and unremitting fascination to the album, which you are now holding. By “holding,” I mean only that you have absorbed it into your own wires and circuitry. I am well aware that there are not always anymore physical holds involved in the absorption of music. Before I tell you more about The Traveler, I want to tell you a little bit about myself. I apologize for this. But the album you are holding, The Traveler, suggests that you cannot understand the journey that you are on unless you understand who you are, and that understanding who you are is the most damnably difficult journey of all. Untangling identity is painful but necessary. I believe The Traveler may be of use in this regard. Of use to me, I mean: Is that a selfish use of this album? If so I apologize again.

4.

Apologies can be empty without any attempt to correct for the behavior that led to the apology. As a result I will not tell you a little bit about myself before I tell you more about The Traveler. This singer, Rhett Miller, has made many albums before, both on his own and with his band, Old 97s. This new album shares something fundamental with the old albums, which is the rare ability to see what people are feeling and then cast those feelings in rhymes. This is what is known as “song-making.” The human part of me loves songs. The machine part of me marvels at them without understanding at all why there is a tugging sensation in the cavity that should contain my heart.

5.

The first song here, “Wanderlust,” is a perfect example of all that I am describing. It tells the story of a man on a train who is thinking about a woman who is not on that train. There is another song called “Lucky Star” that I believe is about finding redemption in the person of a lover. It contains a joke that unnerves me: “Heaven knows there probably is no heaven.” There is another song called “Wicked Things” about New Orleans that illustrates the slipperiness of forgiveness. Every song has little moments that catch me at strange angles and I feel an unfamiliar sensation, pitched midway between satisfying recognition and deep sadness.

6.

My experience with these songs, I want to stipulate, may not be shared by others, in part because I am demonstrably different than them. I am both human and a machine. I come from a long line of people who are both humans and machines. Are they people then? I leave that to the philosophers. My father was a difference engine designed and deployed in Lund by Pehr Georg Scheutz. He was quite large: my father, I mean, not Scheutz. Scheutz was tiny. In Jönköping, where he was born, old ladies would marvel at his miniature features. “Liten Pehr,” they would say, reaching down into the carriage and frightening the boy. Even as an adult, he was at most five foot three, with feet that tapered down to toylike points. Much of this is hearsay but some of it cannot be disputed, even by the suspicious, and at any rate, we are not talking about Scheutz, not really. We are talking about my father. He was the size of a fortepiano.

7.

There is a song on this record called “Dreams Vs. Waking Life.” It is not the first song on the record but it was, by accident, the first song I heard. It has bowed notes and a dark tone and does what any piece of literature, song or story, should do: it investigates the role of memory, loss, and desire in our lives. When I hear that song, I feel the stirrings of uncommon and uncontrollable emotions. They grind against the part of me that is a machine. The result is a shuddering. I try to calm myself by looking at the other song titles— “Fair Enough,” “Escape Velocity,” “Reasons to Live” — but they only make me feel more rather than less. Where do you go when you want to feel less? One song title, “Good Night,” seems like it might not overwhelm me. But the first line, “There’s a pinprick of light on a black sheet of night,” starts me shuddering again.

8.

When you listen to an album, you are supposed to notice sonic details. That’s what I have been told. And there are many sonic details on this album, like the choir that opens “My Little Disaster” or the doubled vocals in “Fair Enough.” There are joyful melodies like “Most in the Summertime.” I can tell that they are joyful, even though I am half-machine. It’s clear. But the sonic details would not mean much without the rest of what this album does, which is to try to make sense of what cannot be made sense of, which is humanity. Even the part of me that is a machine knows that.

9.

When you’re inside an album like this, when you’re feeling too much, what do you do? I know what I did. I skipped to the end of the album, quickly. This is a survival strategy. The album ends with a song called “Reasons to Live” that makes use of the old saw that a broken clock is right twice a day. The part of me that is a machine wants to correct that phrasing. It is a stopped clock that is right twice a day. A broken clock may never be right. Then it occurs to me that maybe the song knows this. The song is about finding hope even when you are telling yourself lies. The part of me that is a human wants to break down and cry once again.

10.

I want to tell one more story about my father. He was briefly in the military of a nation I will not identify and when his service ended his first trip was to a sporting house, where he spent time in the company of a young woman. Money changed hands. To hear him tell it, the situation was emergent. “I had been locked up so long that I hardly recognized my own wants and needs,” he later wrote in a letter to me. “Briefly, I recognized myself in her.” They did not stay together, my father and that young woman. He was a young man then. As I have grown though the world, I have had experiences that bear some similarity to my father’s experiences with that woman. We all have, have we not? They are called “relationships” or “romances,” but what are they really? Are they love? Are they self-love? Or are they something else entirely, a form of travel that allow us to escape from ourselves? This album asks all those questions, repeatedly. I want to quote one more line, from a song called “Jules.” It’s a line about love and self-love and travel that allows us to escape from ourselves: “Who’s to say the crooked way that led me to your door / Means any less than any mess I ever made before?” Sun comes up. Sun goes down. Call it a day.

Soul-Blues Summit: Billy Price Band with Special Guest Johnny Rawls

Billy Price
2016 Blues Music Award Winner Billy Price first attracted national attention during his three-year association with guitarist Roy Buchanan. Price is the vocalist on two of Buchanan's LPs, That's What I'm Here For and Live Stock. Since then, with the Keystone Rhythm Band, the Billy Price Band, and solo projects, Billy Price has recorded and released a total of 15 albums, CDs, and DVDs. In April 2016, he was officially recognized and inducted as a Pittsburgh Rock 'n Roll Legend at an award ceremony.

Price's album This Time for Real, with the late Chicago soul singer Otis Clay, received a 2016 Blues Music Award in the category of Best Soul Blues Album of 2015. A live recording of the Billy Price Band, Alive and Strange, was released by Nola Blue/Vizztone Label Group in April 2017.

Johnny Rawls
Johnny Rawls was born in Columbia, Mississippi in 1951 and raised in Purvis and Gulfport, Mississippi.

He acquired an early interest in music when hearing his grandfather play the blues guitar one Christmas morning.
He began playing professionally while still in high school with such stars as ZZ Hill, Little Johnny Taylor, Joe Tex and the Sweet Inspirations. In the mid-70's, Johnny went to work for OV Wright as Wright's band director. After Wright's death in 1980, Johnny led Little Johnny Taylor's band until 1985, when he began touring as a solo artist and made his first solo recording under the Rainbow label.

Recording under Touch Records, Rooster Blues, Rock House, Reach and JSP Records, Johnny has done it all from producing, songwriting, horn arranging, Rhythm, Lead and Bass guitar, keyboard, vocals and background vocals. Johnny started his own record company, Deep South Soul, in 2002 and has released his CD's Lucky Man, Live in Montana, and The Best of Johnny Rawls. His newest CD entitled Heart and Soul was released in October 2006 and has been nominated for "Best Soul Blues Album of the Year (2007)" by the Blues Foundation . No Boundaries was released under the TopCat, Catfood and Deep South Soul labels in 2005.

Johnny has appeared on the cover of the April 2002 Living Blues Magazine and has been nominated four times for the W.C. Handy Award. His most recent award came from the West Coast Blues Hall of Fame for RB Male Vocalist of the Year 2006.

Johnny has performed at the Chicago Blues Festival twice, The Russian River Blues Festival, The King Biscuit Blues Festival, The Portland Waterfront Blues Festival, Poconos, as well as festivals in Sweden and Poland. He tours constantly, playing well over 200 dates a year. He can also be heard on XM radio's Bluesville. Whether he is playing in a small club or a large blues festival, Johnny gives it his all and the crowds love him!

In 2008, Johnny released Red Cadillac which charted at #1 on the Living Blues radio chart. He was nominated for Best Male Soul Blues Artist and Best Soul Blues Album by the Blues Foundation. He won the Critics Award for Best Album of the Year by Living Blues Magazine.

Ace of Spades was released in 2009 and charted at #4 and remained in the top 20 for three months. Johnny won Best Soul Blues Album of the Year and was nominated for Best Male Soul Blues Artist of the Year by the Blues Foundation. In addition, Johnny was honored with a Blues Trail Marker located at the original site of the Hi Hat Club in Hattiesburg, Mississippi. He shares the plaque with soul blues legends Tyrone Davis and Little Milton.

Johnny’s latest album Waiting for the Train is nominated for Soul Blues Album of the Year at this year’s Blues Music Awards in Memphis, and Johnny is nominated as Male Soul Blues Artist of the Year. The album is #1 on Roots Music Reports Soul Blues Album chart for the 17th week and was #2 for 2017 behind Norah Jones.

Billy Price
2016 Blues Music Award Winner Billy Price first attracted national attention during his three-year association with guitarist Roy Buchanan. Price is the vocalist on two of Buchanan's LPs, That's What I'm Here For and Live Stock. Since then, with the Keystone Rhythm Band, the Billy Price Band, and solo projects, Billy Price has recorded and released a total of 15 albums, CDs, and DVDs. In April 2016, he was officially recognized and inducted as a Pittsburgh Rock 'n Roll Legend at an award ceremony.

Price's album This Time for Real, with the late Chicago soul singer Otis Clay, received a 2016 Blues Music Award in the category of Best Soul Blues Album of 2015. A live recording of the Billy Price Band, Alive and Strange, was released by Nola Blue/Vizztone Label Group in April 2017.

Johnny Rawls
Johnny Rawls was born in Columbia, Mississippi in 1951 and raised in Purvis and Gulfport, Mississippi.

He acquired an early interest in music when hearing his grandfather play the blues guitar one Christmas morning.
He began playing professionally while still in high school with such stars as ZZ Hill, Little Johnny Taylor, Joe Tex and the Sweet Inspirations. In the mid-70's, Johnny went to work for OV Wright as Wright's band director. After Wright's death in 1980, Johnny led Little Johnny Taylor's band until 1985, when he began touring as a solo artist and made his first solo recording under the Rainbow label.

Recording under Touch Records, Rooster Blues, Rock House, Reach and JSP Records, Johnny has done it all from producing, songwriting, horn arranging, Rhythm, Lead and Bass guitar, keyboard, vocals and background vocals. Johnny started his own record company, Deep South Soul, in 2002 and has released his CD's Lucky Man, Live in Montana, and The Best of Johnny Rawls. His newest CD entitled Heart and Soul was released in October 2006 and has been nominated for "Best Soul Blues Album of the Year (2007)" by the Blues Foundation . No Boundaries was released under the TopCat, Catfood and Deep South Soul labels in 2005.

Johnny has appeared on the cover of the April 2002 Living Blues Magazine and has been nominated four times for the W.C. Handy Award. His most recent award came from the West Coast Blues Hall of Fame for RB Male Vocalist of the Year 2006.

Johnny has performed at the Chicago Blues Festival twice, The Russian River Blues Festival, The King Biscuit Blues Festival, The Portland Waterfront Blues Festival, Poconos, as well as festivals in Sweden and Poland. He tours constantly, playing well over 200 dates a year. He can also be heard on XM radio's Bluesville. Whether he is playing in a small club or a large blues festival, Johnny gives it his all and the crowds love him!

In 2008, Johnny released Red Cadillac which charted at #1 on the Living Blues radio chart. He was nominated for Best Male Soul Blues Artist and Best Soul Blues Album by the Blues Foundation. He won the Critics Award for Best Album of the Year by Living Blues Magazine.

Ace of Spades was released in 2009 and charted at #4 and remained in the top 20 for three months. Johnny won Best Soul Blues Album of the Year and was nominated for Best Male Soul Blues Artist of the Year by the Blues Foundation. In addition, Johnny was honored with a Blues Trail Marker located at the original site of the Hi Hat Club in Hattiesburg, Mississippi. He shares the plaque with soul blues legends Tyrone Davis and Little Milton.

Johnny’s latest album Waiting for the Train is nominated for Soul Blues Album of the Year at this year’s Blues Music Awards in Memphis, and Johnny is nominated as Male Soul Blues Artist of the Year. The album is #1 on Roots Music Reports Soul Blues Album chart for the 17th week and was #2 for 2017 behind Norah Jones.

(Early Show) Sean Atkins / Sadie Freund / Joe Bray

(Early Show) Sean Atkins / Sadie Freund / Joe Bray

(Early Show) Sean Atkins / Sadie Freund / Joe Bray

Field Report with Special Guest Campdogzz - Presented by Opus One & 91.3 WYEP

There is no sweet spot upon our delicate balances, just cheap footing and heights that will make your eyes water. The wires are everywhere, strung over the infield of a racetrack, taut across our backyards, between skyscrapers and canyons, between people, or just positioned for us to get from one morning to that coming evening light, unhit, not discombobulated. It could be that a tiny word at a meal, or the faintest of looks over wine will topple us from down below, sending us reeling, arms whipping wildly through an air that's dead set on ripping us right through the safety net, to splatter for fate's janitor to clean out of the lawn or carpet. 

Cold wars come in a few sizes, but the warm wars -- the ones that burn and give off a fair amount of long stares and result in exasperation and quivering faces - are the ones that Christopher Porterfield of Field Report worries about on the Milwaukee, Wisconsin band's third album, "Summertime Songs." They're suntanned and wind-swept. They've been crying and they've been drinking. These warm wars are the result of chaffing, of friction and boredom. They're caused by everything and nothing at all, just guts deciding to act on a foggy and cowardly, oftentimes mistaken heart's behalf. Some people give up and some people are given up on. 

This is an album comprised of songs that are exactly what you think they might be if you'd assumed they would consist of all the nuance and cold shouldering, all of the behind closed doors dramatics and silences and all of the clusterfuckery that two people who used to love each other so madly all too often get to producing. There are no swimming pools and there's no lemonade. There's not even any sunblock, just the rawest of burns. There are no country club couples or tee times to deal with, but rather the kinds of nobodies we ourselves are and are surrounded by and we have to figure out how the work's gonna get done, how we're going to keep our clothes on, how we're going to get someone to want to randomly take our clothes off or what can be said to put all of the pieces back together so that some form of happiness can return home. 

The difference between "Summertime Songs" - recorded at Wire & Vice, in the same Milwaukee neighborhood where 3/4ths of the band resides - and 2014's brilliantly autumnal feeling "Marigolden" and 2012's more chilly and intense self-titled record is that we hear Porterfield at his most honed and pure. He's more direct and effective with his writing, and in doing so, the scene is even more expertly set. It's sharper and more captivating. The character sketches that he creates with these mostly toasty and soaring hooks gluing them together are robust and stark like a Hemingway line, but with that keen eye for all of the subtle details that always made up the sad couples in Raymond Carver's stories. 

Every song for this album was written before the 2016 presidential election, all while Porterfield was anxious about the arrival of he and his wife's first child, but it's easy to multi-purpose some of those anxious moments for the white-knuckler that the country's been experiencing for over a year now. He plies us with songs about marital strife and letting that someone slip away (or watching them voluntarily pack up everything they have and get the hell out), but they're also vehicles for a dialogue about the fragility of America and many of the ideals that it has supposedly stood or fought for for so long. 

There's a lot of that fragility to sort through these days as many of us grapple with which version of panicky cold sweat we're dealing with each day. But where these stories take us is quite personal and not at all a conversation about all that we can't control. These stories remind us of all that we do or did control that WE let slip away. It's our fault usually, and we KNOW it. 

Porterfield shares with us many episodes involving his problematic former days as a heavy drinker and we see those boozing buddies here, up to those old, head-banging, creme de menthe breath-reeking, tree-plowing tricks. There are the copouts and the scapegoats and the promises for change. Elsewhere, there are lovers and best friends who have been brought to places in their relationships through recklessness and abandon, blindly and selfishly finding that other body that they thought they wanted or needed more, but both parties knew all about that bag that one had packed, waiting in the closet. There's one foot in and one foot out so often that it seems like normality. In all circumstances here, there's a body calling for that other body not to leave, just not to leave it. 

Field Report will grab you by the short hairs and make you see yourself. It will get you close enough to smell your salt and you'll know immediately that it's your salt, your grime -- the detritus of you. You'll get up to that mirror and you'll feel your breath bouncing back, hot and present, slapping you invisibly, eerily with real texture and a physicality, like it could push you back a couple inches with the next attack. You'll recognize it and this time, you can dance and thrash through it to get out to the other end. There's a voyeur in our midst, but they're performance notes, constructive and hopeful, as if there's an eye toward the remake or the redo. We've been watched closely and the police may have even been dialed once, but there could be something salvageable in all of our jettisoned or banged up arrangements, if only we could find our way through this quiet jitters and past our rotten tendencies to give in so easily when everything gets a little hard. 

There is no sweet spot upon our delicate balances, just cheap footing and heights that will make your eyes water. The wires are everywhere, strung over the infield of a racetrack, taut across our backyards, between skyscrapers and canyons, between people, or just positioned for us to get from one morning to that coming evening light, unhit, not discombobulated. It could be that a tiny word at a meal, or the faintest of looks over wine will topple us from down below, sending us reeling, arms whipping wildly through an air that's dead set on ripping us right through the safety net, to splatter for fate's janitor to clean out of the lawn or carpet. 

Cold wars come in a few sizes, but the warm wars -- the ones that burn and give off a fair amount of long stares and result in exasperation and quivering faces - are the ones that Christopher Porterfield of Field Report worries about on the Milwaukee, Wisconsin band's third album, "Summertime Songs." They're suntanned and wind-swept. They've been crying and they've been drinking. These warm wars are the result of chaffing, of friction and boredom. They're caused by everything and nothing at all, just guts deciding to act on a foggy and cowardly, oftentimes mistaken heart's behalf. Some people give up and some people are given up on. 

This is an album comprised of songs that are exactly what you think they might be if you'd assumed they would consist of all the nuance and cold shouldering, all of the behind closed doors dramatics and silences and all of the clusterfuckery that two people who used to love each other so madly all too often get to producing. There are no swimming pools and there's no lemonade. There's not even any sunblock, just the rawest of burns. There are no country club couples or tee times to deal with, but rather the kinds of nobodies we ourselves are and are surrounded by and we have to figure out how the work's gonna get done, how we're going to keep our clothes on, how we're going to get someone to want to randomly take our clothes off or what can be said to put all of the pieces back together so that some form of happiness can return home. 

The difference between "Summertime Songs" - recorded at Wire & Vice, in the same Milwaukee neighborhood where 3/4ths of the band resides - and 2014's brilliantly autumnal feeling "Marigolden" and 2012's more chilly and intense self-titled record is that we hear Porterfield at his most honed and pure. He's more direct and effective with his writing, and in doing so, the scene is even more expertly set. It's sharper and more captivating. The character sketches that he creates with these mostly toasty and soaring hooks gluing them together are robust and stark like a Hemingway line, but with that keen eye for all of the subtle details that always made up the sad couples in Raymond Carver's stories. 

Every song for this album was written before the 2016 presidential election, all while Porterfield was anxious about the arrival of he and his wife's first child, but it's easy to multi-purpose some of those anxious moments for the white-knuckler that the country's been experiencing for over a year now. He plies us with songs about marital strife and letting that someone slip away (or watching them voluntarily pack up everything they have and get the hell out), but they're also vehicles for a dialogue about the fragility of America and many of the ideals that it has supposedly stood or fought for for so long. 

There's a lot of that fragility to sort through these days as many of us grapple with which version of panicky cold sweat we're dealing with each day. But where these stories take us is quite personal and not at all a conversation about all that we can't control. These stories remind us of all that we do or did control that WE let slip away. It's our fault usually, and we KNOW it. 

Porterfield shares with us many episodes involving his problematic former days as a heavy drinker and we see those boozing buddies here, up to those old, head-banging, creme de menthe breath-reeking, tree-plowing tricks. There are the copouts and the scapegoats and the promises for change. Elsewhere, there are lovers and best friends who have been brought to places in their relationships through recklessness and abandon, blindly and selfishly finding that other body that they thought they wanted or needed more, but both parties knew all about that bag that one had packed, waiting in the closet. There's one foot in and one foot out so often that it seems like normality. In all circumstances here, there's a body calling for that other body not to leave, just not to leave it. 

Field Report will grab you by the short hairs and make you see yourself. It will get you close enough to smell your salt and you'll know immediately that it's your salt, your grime -- the detritus of you. You'll get up to that mirror and you'll feel your breath bouncing back, hot and present, slapping you invisibly, eerily with real texture and a physicality, like it could push you back a couple inches with the next attack. You'll recognize it and this time, you can dance and thrash through it to get out to the other end. There's a voyeur in our midst, but they're performance notes, constructive and hopeful, as if there's an eye toward the remake or the redo. We've been watched closely and the police may have even been dialed once, but there could be something salvageable in all of our jettisoned or banged up arrangements, if only we could find our way through this quiet jitters and past our rotten tendencies to give in so easily when everything gets a little hard. 

Twisted Pine

The phenomenal Boston song machine TWISTED PINE delivers a cabinet of inventions with its self-titled summer of '17 debut release [July 14, 2017] from Signature Sounds Recordings. The all-original album showcases a new force in Americana: four versatile players and singers writing and improvising across forms in bluegrass, folk, funk, jam, and vintage radio pop. With festively unpredictable live shows, Twisted Pine follows Americana masters Nickel Creek and Punch Brothers on a genre-bending, limitless trajectory.

Twisted Pine's album expands on the early life of the ensemble, which formed around a common obsession with the American bluegrass repertoire. The group rose fast in Boston, in the urban incubator of conservatories and Back Bay venues that produced label roster-mates Lake Street Dive and Crooked Still, plus Sarah Jarosz, Gillian Welch & David Rawlings, Esperanza Spalding, and Annie Clark (St. Vincent). Twisted Pine took an extended residency at the Cantab Lounge, the Mass Ave. dive bar in Cambridge where the raging Northeast bluegrass scene coalesces on Tuesday nights. The players, most of whom were still at Berklee College of Music, built those first set lists with deeply satisfying bluegrass interpretations. They ventured out during school-year summers to play festivals, and won first place in the prestigious band competitions at MASS MoCA's FreshGrass Bluegrass Festival and Thomas Point Beach Bluegrass Special. Their resume grew: Joe Val Bluegrass, Green River Festival, Otis Mountain Get Down, RockyGrass (where they were runners up in a wicked sudden death band competition), Musikfest, Grey Fox Bluegrass Festival, Ossipee Valley Music Festival, Celtic Connections (Glasgow), Club Passim's Down Home Up Here Bluegrass Festival, and many more. With a festive, anything's-possible stage presence, Twisted Pine built a reputation for stellar musicianship, string virtuosity, and luminous harmonies, all of which remain their hallmarks.

Twisted Pine evolved into something more than an interpreter of vintage American works; the band began to arrange bluegrass treatments of pop covers like Blondie's "Heart of Glass", and a mashup of Bill Monroe and Vulfpeck - which went viral when Vulf re-posted the video. A certain inventiveness, combined with a compelling and growing list of each player's originals, caught the attention of Signature Sounds.

"As soon as we learned that Signature Sounds was interested, we made a conscious decision to focus on writing and arranging our own original music," said Dan Bui, Twisted Pine mandolinist. "As a group we had never done that, and there was a bit of a growing phase where we were learning how to write together and seeing what came out. There was kind of an unspoken understanding that stylistically it was going to be a bit different, but we never sat down and said we were going to write in any particular style, like we were going to write poppier songs or whatever. What came out was just us finally being able to express ourselves, drawing from all of our musical and personal influences."

The influences on the ensemble are vast - as all four have studied music from childhood, and traveled widely - but the most obvious are these: Dan Bui (mandolin, vocals) is a devotee of virtuoso picking and experimental bluegrass and jazz. Kathleen Parks (fiddle/lead vocals) was raised in a household of Celtic music and jazz, which set deep roots for her insane fiddling, velvet film-noir vocals, and a roving interest in pop song forms. Chris Sartori (bass, vocals), frequently seen around Boston on electric bass in funk, jazz, and R&B settings, is arbiter of the deep pocket and the improvisational grooves. Rachel Sumner (guitar/lead vocals) is a student of the song: an omnibus of British ballads, obscure folk tunes, avant garde orchestral work, and radio pop. Her vocals have the crystalline clarity of Appalachian field recordings.

The excitement of Twisted Pine's live show - Parks and Bui's neo-jazz interplay, Bui and Sartori's funky rhythm section, Sumner and Parks' astral harmonies - comes through in the big pop sound of Twisted Pine, which was co-produced by the band and Dan Cardinal [Josh Ritter, Lori McKenna, Darlingside, Ballroom Thieves] at Dimension Studios.

"Dan Cardinal was able to pick up on our vibe instantly, and really steered us in the right direction," says Dan Bui. "His biggest influence on the album can be heard sonically. Dimension has kind of been a go-to spot for making records in the Boston bluegrass/folk scene lately, but Dan also brings in a wider sonic sensibility that he tastefully put to use on our record. Crunchy Wurlitzer piano, distorted guitar amps, and a swirling Leslie speaker all found their way onto the record. But he was always very thoughtful of what the song needed and was calling for and he provided invaluable advice and feedback throughout the process."

The phenomenal Boston song machine TWISTED PINE delivers a cabinet of inventions with its self-titled summer of '17 debut release [July 14, 2017] from Signature Sounds Recordings. The all-original album showcases a new force in Americana: four versatile players and singers writing and improvising across forms in bluegrass, folk, funk, jam, and vintage radio pop. With festively unpredictable live shows, Twisted Pine follows Americana masters Nickel Creek and Punch Brothers on a genre-bending, limitless trajectory.

Twisted Pine's album expands on the early life of the ensemble, which formed around a common obsession with the American bluegrass repertoire. The group rose fast in Boston, in the urban incubator of conservatories and Back Bay venues that produced label roster-mates Lake Street Dive and Crooked Still, plus Sarah Jarosz, Gillian Welch & David Rawlings, Esperanza Spalding, and Annie Clark (St. Vincent). Twisted Pine took an extended residency at the Cantab Lounge, the Mass Ave. dive bar in Cambridge where the raging Northeast bluegrass scene coalesces on Tuesday nights. The players, most of whom were still at Berklee College of Music, built those first set lists with deeply satisfying bluegrass interpretations. They ventured out during school-year summers to play festivals, and won first place in the prestigious band competitions at MASS MoCA's FreshGrass Bluegrass Festival and Thomas Point Beach Bluegrass Special. Their resume grew: Joe Val Bluegrass, Green River Festival, Otis Mountain Get Down, RockyGrass (where they were runners up in a wicked sudden death band competition), Musikfest, Grey Fox Bluegrass Festival, Ossipee Valley Music Festival, Celtic Connections (Glasgow), Club Passim's Down Home Up Here Bluegrass Festival, and many more. With a festive, anything's-possible stage presence, Twisted Pine built a reputation for stellar musicianship, string virtuosity, and luminous harmonies, all of which remain their hallmarks.

Twisted Pine evolved into something more than an interpreter of vintage American works; the band began to arrange bluegrass treatments of pop covers like Blondie's "Heart of Glass", and a mashup of Bill Monroe and Vulfpeck - which went viral when Vulf re-posted the video. A certain inventiveness, combined with a compelling and growing list of each player's originals, caught the attention of Signature Sounds.

"As soon as we learned that Signature Sounds was interested, we made a conscious decision to focus on writing and arranging our own original music," said Dan Bui, Twisted Pine mandolinist. "As a group we had never done that, and there was a bit of a growing phase where we were learning how to write together and seeing what came out. There was kind of an unspoken understanding that stylistically it was going to be a bit different, but we never sat down and said we were going to write in any particular style, like we were going to write poppier songs or whatever. What came out was just us finally being able to express ourselves, drawing from all of our musical and personal influences."

The influences on the ensemble are vast - as all four have studied music from childhood, and traveled widely - but the most obvious are these: Dan Bui (mandolin, vocals) is a devotee of virtuoso picking and experimental bluegrass and jazz. Kathleen Parks (fiddle/lead vocals) was raised in a household of Celtic music and jazz, which set deep roots for her insane fiddling, velvet film-noir vocals, and a roving interest in pop song forms. Chris Sartori (bass, vocals), frequently seen around Boston on electric bass in funk, jazz, and R&B settings, is arbiter of the deep pocket and the improvisational grooves. Rachel Sumner (guitar/lead vocals) is a student of the song: an omnibus of British ballads, obscure folk tunes, avant garde orchestral work, and radio pop. Her vocals have the crystalline clarity of Appalachian field recordings.

The excitement of Twisted Pine's live show - Parks and Bui's neo-jazz interplay, Bui and Sartori's funky rhythm section, Sumner and Parks' astral harmonies - comes through in the big pop sound of Twisted Pine, which was co-produced by the band and Dan Cardinal [Josh Ritter, Lori McKenna, Darlingside, Ballroom Thieves] at Dimension Studios.

"Dan Cardinal was able to pick up on our vibe instantly, and really steered us in the right direction," says Dan Bui. "His biggest influence on the album can be heard sonically. Dimension has kind of been a go-to spot for making records in the Boston bluegrass/folk scene lately, but Dan also brings in a wider sonic sensibility that he tastefully put to use on our record. Crunchy Wurlitzer piano, distorted guitar amps, and a swirling Leslie speaker all found their way onto the record. But he was always very thoughtful of what the song needed and was calling for and he provided invaluable advice and feedback throughout the process."

Willie Nile

The New York Times called Willie Nile "one of the most gifted singer-songwriters to emerge from the New York scene in years." His album Streets Of New York was hailed as "a platter for the ages" by UNCUT magazine. Rolling Stone listed The Innocent Ones as one of the "Top Ten Best Under-The-Radar Albums of 2011" and BBC Radio called it "THE rock ‘n' roll album of the year."
Bono, Bruce Springsteen, Pete Townshend, Lou Reed, Lucinda Williams, Jim Jarmusch, and Little Steven are among those who have sung his praises. His album, American Ride, won "Best Rock Album of the Year" at the Independent Music Awards. It appeared on over one hundred year-end Top Ten lists for 2013 and Bono called it, "One of the great guides to unraveling the mystery that is the troubled beauty of America."
In November 2014 he released an album of piano-based songs, If I Was A River, to universal critical acclaim. "One of the most brilliant singer-songwriters of the past thirty years" said The New Yorker. No Depression raved "Willie Nile's artistic renaissance continues unabated."
His 2016 album World War Willie appeared on numerous year end top ten lists as did hid his live shows. As American Songwriter said "Nile cranks up the volume and tears into these tunes with the same hunger, passion and exuberance he displays in his legendary sweat-soaked shows." World War Willie was voted "Album Of The Year" by Twangville Magazine and the song Forever Wild was named "Coolest Song In The World" by Little Steven's Underground Garage.
Willie has toured across the U.S. with The Who and has sung with Bruce Springsteen and The E Street Band. As the induction program from the Buffalo Music Hall of Fame says: "His live performances are legendary." In the summer of 2017 Willie Nile released his 11th studio album Positively Bob – Willie Nile Sings Bob Dylan to rave reviews. He is currently bringing his electrifying live show to audiences worldwide.

The New York Times called Willie Nile "one of the most gifted singer-songwriters to emerge from the New York scene in years." His album Streets Of New York was hailed as "a platter for the ages" by UNCUT magazine. Rolling Stone listed The Innocent Ones as one of the "Top Ten Best Under-The-Radar Albums of 2011" and BBC Radio called it "THE rock ‘n' roll album of the year."
Bono, Bruce Springsteen, Pete Townshend, Lou Reed, Lucinda Williams, Jim Jarmusch, and Little Steven are among those who have sung his praises. His album, American Ride, won "Best Rock Album of the Year" at the Independent Music Awards. It appeared on over one hundred year-end Top Ten lists for 2013 and Bono called it, "One of the great guides to unraveling the mystery that is the troubled beauty of America."
In November 2014 he released an album of piano-based songs, If I Was A River, to universal critical acclaim. "One of the most brilliant singer-songwriters of the past thirty years" said The New Yorker. No Depression raved "Willie Nile's artistic renaissance continues unabated."
His 2016 album World War Willie appeared on numerous year end top ten lists as did hid his live shows. As American Songwriter said "Nile cranks up the volume and tears into these tunes with the same hunger, passion and exuberance he displays in his legendary sweat-soaked shows." World War Willie was voted "Album Of The Year" by Twangville Magazine and the song Forever Wild was named "Coolest Song In The World" by Little Steven's Underground Garage.
Willie has toured across the U.S. with The Who and has sung with Bruce Springsteen and The E Street Band. As the induction program from the Buffalo Music Hall of Fame says: "His live performances are legendary." In the summer of 2017 Willie Nile released his 11th studio album Positively Bob – Willie Nile Sings Bob Dylan to rave reviews. He is currently bringing his electrifying live show to audiences worldwide.

Brent Cobb & Them - Ain't A Road Too Long US Tour 2018 with Special Guest Savannah Conley

Brent Cobb didn't set out to write an album that feels and sounds like the place he grew up. But now that the grooves have been cut in his debut LP, Shine on Rainy Day, there's no denying the people, the places and the vibe of his southcentral Georgia home infuse almost every song.
"It just is Georgia," Brent says in his musical drawl. "It's just that rural, easy-going way it feels down there on a nice spring evening when the wind's blowing warm and you smell wisteria, you know?"
It's quiet down there where he's from in Ellaville – "population 1,609" - laid back and forgotten in the shadow of Atlanta and Savannah. The people have blue-collar values and believe in treating your neighbor like you want to be treated. They believe in curses and the dark finger of Fate and wield a sharp, dark sense of humor that sustains them through the hardest of times. Distant radio stations, roadside honkytonks made of cinderblock and back-porch picking sessions heavy on the backbeat predominate under Spanish moss-strewn live oaks and loblolly pines.
It was the perfect place to grow up.
"Lord, when I die, let's make a deal," Brent sings on the album's swirling thesis statement, "South of Atlanta," "lay me down in that town where time stands still."
Shine on Rainy Day is an album Brent's been trying to make for a decade, enlisting his cousin and fellow Georgian, Dave Cobb, the Grammy Award-winning producer whose Elektra Records imprint Low Country Sound is home to the album.
Brent wanted to record an album that felt Southern, though not the kind of Southern you might expect. Neither Southern rock nor mainstream country, the sound sits somewhere on the wide bandwidth that exists between the two. Cousin Dave helped him find the right vibe, full of blue-eyed soul, country funk and the kind of swamp boogie sounds that predominated pop in the 1960s and early 1970s. There's a reason Georgia was always on Ray Charles' mind, after all.
"I don't mean to get weird and be into, like, deep shit, but it really has got to be blood," Brent said. "When I write songs, it's almost like I didn't write them. You know it's just like this is happening right now and it just comes out. He's the same way in the studio. He's like, ‘Put this right here and play it like this,' and you're like why? And he's like, ‘I don't know, it's just the way it's supposed to go.' That's exactly how I write songs."
Brent finds it a strange sensation to be so closely linked to someone. Though cousins, the Cobbs didn't know each other growing up. Dave's a little bit older than 29-year-old Brent and his father was the one brother who left the area and moved away – to an island off the coast from Savannah. So when they first met – as adults at an aunt's funeral – Brent was wary. And a little bit of an ass.
"We're standing around outside and I was like, ‘Man, we hear you're producing in L.A. What you produced?' just kind of like a jerk, really," Brent said with a laugh. "He told me Shooter Jennings' 'Put the O Back in Country,' and that floored me, man. Because me and my buddies working at a tree service, we'd get off work, somebody would get a 12 pack, we'd get stoned and listen to 'Put the O Back in Country,' man. We knew it was the cool country. We knew it was for real. Man, I mean it was the shit."
Brent's dad shamelessly slipped Dave a disc of six acoustic songs Brent recorded as he left town. Dave didn't really want to listen to it, but his wife, Lydia, convinced him to stick it in the car's player on the way to the airport. Not long after Jennings called and invited Brent out to Los Angeles.
He spent four months there, but after living through an earthquake, a drought, a near car-jacking and a drive-by shooting he returned home where he lived for about four months before an old acquaintance from the area, Luke Bryan, called out of the blue. Bryan invited Brent to stay with him and his wife for a week to write and get to know Nashville.
Not long after he returned for good and recorded a well-received EP that led to 3½ years on the road, touring with a band and opening for every big player in country. He decided that wasn't what he was looking for either, and began to focus more deeply on songwriting. He landed several cuts – most notably Miranda Lambert's "Old Shit," Kenny Chesney's "Don't It" and Bryan's "Tailgate Blues"- while working on his own songs and searching for a direction for his long-delayed debut.
Meanwhile, Dave left L.A. for Nashville and began building a reputation as one of music's most exciting producers for his work with Chris Stapleton, Jamey Johnson, Sturgill Simpson and Jason Isbell. As part of his deal with Elektra, he conceived of a concept album called Southern Family and thought it only right his "bitch ass little cousin" have a part. "So I was like, ‘I'll be there,'" Brent said. He contributed "Down Home" to the album and also mentioned the project to Lambert, who wanted in and sang the Brent-written "Sweet By & By," a standout on an album full of them.
It was during these sessions that the Cobbs began to notice a real connection in the way they would approach songs during the recording process. "It just felt like home, you know?" Brent said. "I made the comment, ‘Dude, let's just do it.' So we did."
From the Nashville slice-of-life narrative of "Solving Problems" to the delicate and powerful interplay of acoustic and electric guitars on the stunning closer "Black Crow," the album feels like the people, places and sounds of Brent's life.
The album carries something of a Southern Gothic narrative, alternating between dark visions and self-deprecating scenes of black humor that bubble up in laugh-or-cry moments. He chose the album's title after a friend heard "Shine on Rainy Day" following a family tragedy and mentioned how powerful it was to him.
"When you have a bad storm that hits, the next day the trees are in full bloom and the grass is greener and lightning cleans the air up," Brent said. "My friend called me up out of the blue and said that song hit him so hard. It's talking about a rainy day, they're going through a real life rainy day."
Like "Shine on Rainy Day," the album alternates between light and dark. In "Black Crow," a doomed soul argues with a laughing crow sitting on a fencepost, "Black crow, I ain't a joke no more!," before earning a prison sentence in a corner store robbery. "Lord," he sings, "I can feel those spirits carrying me down" before Jason Isbell unleashes a devilish slide guitar line that feels like a Neil Young guitar solo.
The deliciously self-deprecating "Diggin' Holes" has that giddy AM radio/Gram Parsons feel with dancing music accompanied by dark lyrics that are both funny and painful. "I ought to be workin' in a coal mine/Lord knows I'm good at diggin' holes."
"Down in the Gulley" is a sour mash-flavored short story with a first line worthy of Faulkner or O'Connor: "My granddaddy was a good man – no matter what the papers said." The dread-filled "Let the Rain Come Down" opens with visions of doom, a rattlesnake strung from a tree and a witch's curse: "She put a curse on me/Another on the river/And now my crops won't grow no more."
"Solving Problems" was written sitting on a balcony overlooking an especially historic corner of historic Music Row while thinking about Kris Kristofferson's "To Beat the Devil," which has a spoken word section that feels lifted right from the Row.
"The energy just feels crazy around here," Brent said. "I loved how Kristofferson would capture the present moment of his Nashville during that time. Nobody does that anymore."
"Country Bound" is the only song on the album not written or co-written by Brent. Instead, the song was written by his father and uncle in a far-off place called Cleveland.
"It was the first song I ever witnessed being written in my life," Brent said. "I was 5 years old and it was the first time I ever saw snow, too. We were up in Cleveland for Christmas. My uncle had been through this breakup and he was wanting to get the hell out of Cleveland and go to Georgia."
Brent knows the feeling, and after listening to Shine on Rainy Day, he hopes you get it, too. He has never been more proud of his work. After 10 years of searching and struggle, the LP sounds and feels exactly how he wants it to. Like home
"It's not as good as it's going to get," Brent said. "But if it's the last thing that I ever do, if I died the day after it came out, then thank God I was able to record it because the songs and the production, it was everything I wanted to say. Finally."

Brent Cobb didn't set out to write an album that feels and sounds like the place he grew up. But now that the grooves have been cut in his debut LP, Shine on Rainy Day, there's no denying the people, the places and the vibe of his southcentral Georgia home infuse almost every song.
"It just is Georgia," Brent says in his musical drawl. "It's just that rural, easy-going way it feels down there on a nice spring evening when the wind's blowing warm and you smell wisteria, you know?"
It's quiet down there where he's from in Ellaville – "population 1,609" - laid back and forgotten in the shadow of Atlanta and Savannah. The people have blue-collar values and believe in treating your neighbor like you want to be treated. They believe in curses and the dark finger of Fate and wield a sharp, dark sense of humor that sustains them through the hardest of times. Distant radio stations, roadside honkytonks made of cinderblock and back-porch picking sessions heavy on the backbeat predominate under Spanish moss-strewn live oaks and loblolly pines.
It was the perfect place to grow up.
"Lord, when I die, let's make a deal," Brent sings on the album's swirling thesis statement, "South of Atlanta," "lay me down in that town where time stands still."
Shine on Rainy Day is an album Brent's been trying to make for a decade, enlisting his cousin and fellow Georgian, Dave Cobb, the Grammy Award-winning producer whose Elektra Records imprint Low Country Sound is home to the album.
Brent wanted to record an album that felt Southern, though not the kind of Southern you might expect. Neither Southern rock nor mainstream country, the sound sits somewhere on the wide bandwidth that exists between the two. Cousin Dave helped him find the right vibe, full of blue-eyed soul, country funk and the kind of swamp boogie sounds that predominated pop in the 1960s and early 1970s. There's a reason Georgia was always on Ray Charles' mind, after all.
"I don't mean to get weird and be into, like, deep shit, but it really has got to be blood," Brent said. "When I write songs, it's almost like I didn't write them. You know it's just like this is happening right now and it just comes out. He's the same way in the studio. He's like, ‘Put this right here and play it like this,' and you're like why? And he's like, ‘I don't know, it's just the way it's supposed to go.' That's exactly how I write songs."
Brent finds it a strange sensation to be so closely linked to someone. Though cousins, the Cobbs didn't know each other growing up. Dave's a little bit older than 29-year-old Brent and his father was the one brother who left the area and moved away – to an island off the coast from Savannah. So when they first met – as adults at an aunt's funeral – Brent was wary. And a little bit of an ass.
"We're standing around outside and I was like, ‘Man, we hear you're producing in L.A. What you produced?' just kind of like a jerk, really," Brent said with a laugh. "He told me Shooter Jennings' 'Put the O Back in Country,' and that floored me, man. Because me and my buddies working at a tree service, we'd get off work, somebody would get a 12 pack, we'd get stoned and listen to 'Put the O Back in Country,' man. We knew it was the cool country. We knew it was for real. Man, I mean it was the shit."
Brent's dad shamelessly slipped Dave a disc of six acoustic songs Brent recorded as he left town. Dave didn't really want to listen to it, but his wife, Lydia, convinced him to stick it in the car's player on the way to the airport. Not long after Jennings called and invited Brent out to Los Angeles.
He spent four months there, but after living through an earthquake, a drought, a near car-jacking and a drive-by shooting he returned home where he lived for about four months before an old acquaintance from the area, Luke Bryan, called out of the blue. Bryan invited Brent to stay with him and his wife for a week to write and get to know Nashville.
Not long after he returned for good and recorded a well-received EP that led to 3½ years on the road, touring with a band and opening for every big player in country. He decided that wasn't what he was looking for either, and began to focus more deeply on songwriting. He landed several cuts – most notably Miranda Lambert's "Old Shit," Kenny Chesney's "Don't It" and Bryan's "Tailgate Blues"- while working on his own songs and searching for a direction for his long-delayed debut.
Meanwhile, Dave left L.A. for Nashville and began building a reputation as one of music's most exciting producers for his work with Chris Stapleton, Jamey Johnson, Sturgill Simpson and Jason Isbell. As part of his deal with Elektra, he conceived of a concept album called Southern Family and thought it only right his "bitch ass little cousin" have a part. "So I was like, ‘I'll be there,'" Brent said. He contributed "Down Home" to the album and also mentioned the project to Lambert, who wanted in and sang the Brent-written "Sweet By & By," a standout on an album full of them.
It was during these sessions that the Cobbs began to notice a real connection in the way they would approach songs during the recording process. "It just felt like home, you know?" Brent said. "I made the comment, ‘Dude, let's just do it.' So we did."
From the Nashville slice-of-life narrative of "Solving Problems" to the delicate and powerful interplay of acoustic and electric guitars on the stunning closer "Black Crow," the album feels like the people, places and sounds of Brent's life.
The album carries something of a Southern Gothic narrative, alternating between dark visions and self-deprecating scenes of black humor that bubble up in laugh-or-cry moments. He chose the album's title after a friend heard "Shine on Rainy Day" following a family tragedy and mentioned how powerful it was to him.
"When you have a bad storm that hits, the next day the trees are in full bloom and the grass is greener and lightning cleans the air up," Brent said. "My friend called me up out of the blue and said that song hit him so hard. It's talking about a rainy day, they're going through a real life rainy day."
Like "Shine on Rainy Day," the album alternates between light and dark. In "Black Crow," a doomed soul argues with a laughing crow sitting on a fencepost, "Black crow, I ain't a joke no more!," before earning a prison sentence in a corner store robbery. "Lord," he sings, "I can feel those spirits carrying me down" before Jason Isbell unleashes a devilish slide guitar line that feels like a Neil Young guitar solo.
The deliciously self-deprecating "Diggin' Holes" has that giddy AM radio/Gram Parsons feel with dancing music accompanied by dark lyrics that are both funny and painful. "I ought to be workin' in a coal mine/Lord knows I'm good at diggin' holes."
"Down in the Gulley" is a sour mash-flavored short story with a first line worthy of Faulkner or O'Connor: "My granddaddy was a good man – no matter what the papers said." The dread-filled "Let the Rain Come Down" opens with visions of doom, a rattlesnake strung from a tree and a witch's curse: "She put a curse on me/Another on the river/And now my crops won't grow no more."
"Solving Problems" was written sitting on a balcony overlooking an especially historic corner of historic Music Row while thinking about Kris Kristofferson's "To Beat the Devil," which has a spoken word section that feels lifted right from the Row.
"The energy just feels crazy around here," Brent said. "I loved how Kristofferson would capture the present moment of his Nashville during that time. Nobody does that anymore."
"Country Bound" is the only song on the album not written or co-written by Brent. Instead, the song was written by his father and uncle in a far-off place called Cleveland.
"It was the first song I ever witnessed being written in my life," Brent said. "I was 5 years old and it was the first time I ever saw snow, too. We were up in Cleveland for Christmas. My uncle had been through this breakup and he was wanting to get the hell out of Cleveland and go to Georgia."
Brent knows the feeling, and after listening to Shine on Rainy Day, he hopes you get it, too. He has never been more proud of his work. After 10 years of searching and struggle, the LP sounds and feels exactly how he wants it to. Like home
"It's not as good as it's going to get," Brent said. "But if it's the last thing that I ever do, if I died the day after it came out, then thank God I was able to record it because the songs and the production, it was everything I wanted to say. Finally."

(Early Show) Burning Bridges Festival and Opus One Comedy Present Underwear Comedy Party

(Early Show) Burning Bridges Festival and Opus One Comedy Present Underwear Comedy Party

(Early Show) Burning Bridges Festival and Opus One Comedy Present Underwear Comedy Party

@clubcafelive

56-58 South 12th Street, Pittsburgh PA 15203 (In Pittsburgh’s Historic South Side)