Any Hounds following the Strypes? Their stuff sounds great. Heres a RS review of them and their March NYC show: In 1964, the Who coined the term Maximum R&B, summing up the brawn, blues and ecstasy in their pop art. A full 50 years later, on March 18th, the Strypes – a quartet of hard looks, long drive and tender years, founded in 2011 in Cavan, Ireland, and still 18 and under – skidded into New Yorks Bowery Ballroom sounding like My Generation and Five Live Yardbirds only came out yesterday and anyone muttering the words boy band would be skinned alive. Celebrating the U.S. release that day of their debut album, Snapshot (Island/Def Jam), singer-harpist Ross Farrelly, guitarist-singer Josh McClorey, bassist Pete OHanlon and drummer Evan Walsh came out at high speed and, for most of their hour-and-small-change on stage, got faster, zooming through Bo Diddleys I Can Tell, the Specials Concrete Jungle and their own teenage nervous breakdowns What a Shame, Mystery Man and Blue Collar Jane with taut impatience, like they were in a hurry to come of age. They have already done a lot of that work. Walsh kept manic time like a stoic-precision mix of Charlie Watts and Tommy Ramone – racing, never rushing. OHanlon thrashed his wide-body bass like its a deep-throated rhythm guitar – John Entwistle with power chords. McClorey has a fierce, accomplished grip on the precedents in his slicing clang: At one point, he threw the Yardbirds lick from Over Under Sideways Down into the Delta-blues avalanche Rollin and Tumblin, connecting those histories at Damned-like velocity. Farrellys echoes were a Liam Gallagher bray loaded with the Yardbirds Keith Relf and a husky-Chicago minimalism on harp. He didnt crack a smile the whole time, but it was the proper advertising. The Strypes are serious about the homage and striving in their fun. Future Blues There was nothing new in this furor. Thats no problem or surprise. British pop often cycles back through this kind of power-blues purism, like a cleansing ritual. In the mid-Seventies, Dr. Feelgood – with McCloreys most obvious guitar ancestor, Wilko Johnson – swept the landscape clean for punk; the Inmates and the Godfathers kept the Chess-45 and Nuggets faith during the post-punk era and the New Romantics cheek. The Strypes have more distance to cover – they have arrived at a time when their most famous fans, including Jeff Beck, Jimmy Page and Elton John (the band is signed to his management), are now the vintage of the blues elders those stars worshipped and modernized. But the ruckus on Snapshot and the Strypes no-dead-air rush in performance is so old – and determined in its purity – that its radical: a blunt refusal to believe that this kind of blowup has been beaten to cliché. The closing run at the Bowery – Nick Lowes Heart of the City; that Rollin and Tumblin; encores of the Ramones Rockaway Beach and Richard Berrys Louie, Louie – and made it clear: The Strypes operate according to their own calendar, maps and hunger, jumping oceans and decades for their lessons and inspiration. (Extra credit: their surprise appearance at SXSW, with Irish PR legend and DJ B.P. Fallon, covering Vicious at a Lou Reed tribute.) As songwriters, the Strypes value concision – the right stuff in this music – and have a precocious knack for hooks (What the People Dont See) and retro wit (the line about spaghetti-western villain Lee Van Cleef in Angel Eyes). There is the issue of vision – what comes after youve found and mastered your roots – and the thin line between passion and pastiche. But the Strypes are still at an age of discovery, with the chops to apply their learning. They cant be the new 65 Kinks, Rolling Stones or Yardbirds – thats been done to perfection – but theyre at the right starting line, making an impressive entrance. Read more: rollingstone/music/blogs/alternate-take/the-strypes-bring-maximum-r-b-to-new-york-20140320#ixzz35CsDvyMa Follow us: @rollingstone on Twitter | RollingStone on Facebook
Posted on: Fri, 20 Jun 2014 18:49:36 +0000
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