Rotten Belly Blues: The Songs Come First.
“The songs come first,” says Rotten Belly Michael.
Rotten Belly Blues send signals early in the proceedings of their self-titled new album – actually their third, but the first released nationally – that these are no ordinary blues songs, and this is no ordinary blues band. The opener, an aggressive r&b romp called “Mr. Barton”, gives way to “Believe”, an uneasy dreamscape painted with swaths of overdriven guitar and jangled piano. “Believe, believe,” the singer intones, echoed by a ghostly female voice. “There’s nothing up my sleeve.”
For an artist who lives by a creed of absolute honesty ("I'm not making this up; I wouldn't know where to start”) that’s a fairly deceptive statement. There’s plenty up Rotten Belly Michael’s sleeve. The singer, guitarist, and songwriter who penned all thirteen of the CDs tracks reveals another slight deception: although “Believe” and several of the other tracks sound like they’re the result of endless overdubs and pro-tools alchemy, the entire album was recorded live. “There are NO overdubs on this record. Each tune is a moment captured in time, usually done in one take and honestly presented as a true performance.”
The album was recorded at one the country’s premiere studios, Right Coast Recording in Columbia, PA. "Some of those songs give me goose bumps!” says producer Bobby Gentilo, (who also produced Big Jack Johnson’s latest, Katrina). “Bobby was an integral part of the way this record works,” says Rotten Belly bassist Jon Mertz. “When we decided not to do any overdubs, that meant that the producer had to be prepared to deal with a lot of crazy stuff simultaneously. Riding herd over the lot of us must’ve been a challenge.”
“Rrolling In It (Big Money)”, which follows, is deliberately misspelled for reasons Michael won’t go into. “Ask Mr. Barton why it’s spelled like that,” he says. Whatever – the song cooks like a Chicago steakhouse. Behind Michael, Erica Shellenberger‘s sultry vocals ignite the tinder of Dave Groninger‘s snaky guitar lines and Kyle Morgan’s barrelhouse piano. Legendary blues drummer Dale Wise propels the song with the band’s dual bass section, Jon Mertz and Matt Gochenauer, alternating between electric and upright. Guitarist Dave Crane (Big Whiskey) has switched over to harp and is channeling Little Walter.
Although the similarities are unintentional, “The Worst Thing” sounds more like the Rolling Stones than the Stones themselves have in decades, with distorted guitars grinding against a fuzzy loping bassline. Unhinged piano licks bubble to the surface as Dominick Billett (one of three outstanding drummers who worked on the album) thumps the tubs into submission. Just as T Rex comes to the listener’s mind, Michael ties all of the threads in a knot by quoting Chuck Berry: “Meanwhile, I’m stillllll thinkin’…”
“We ain’t imitating nothing,” Michael corrects me when I point out what I thought were reference points – Stones, T Rex, Chuck Berry – and indeed, nothing on this CD sounds unoriginal. I can hear a thousand oblique references, from Muddy Waters to Bob Dylan to Radiohead, but nothing sounds stolen. It’s just that this group of musicians is conversant in a lot of different languages.
“Different incarnations of Rotten Belly Blues have been criss-crossing the U.S. for the last couple of years,” says Michael. “But this band on the new CD is the core of the sound and the sensation.” Indeed, the musicians on the record have ties to several generations of the area’s best bands – from legendary juke joint rockers the Cornlickers (Dale Wise, Dave Groninger, producer Bobby Gentilo) to up-and-coming college radio stars the Click Clack Boom (Will Markley, Nathaniel Hoho).
“Best Girl” starts off as a leisurely stroll down Beale Street, but picks up steam as it rolls, nudged along by the insistent rhythms of percussion ace Marc Auker and Matt Gochenauer on congas. As the singer questions the purity of his own intentions, guitar, harp and piano wrestle in the mud, and everyone wins.
The road takes a sharp left with “Money Is For Spending”, with the band pared down to an acoustic core and Kyle Morgan providing acoustic guitar and a high, lonesome harmony. This song sounds like a bluegrass standard – I’d like to hear the Clinch Mountain Boys play it.
It’s starting to seem like there’s no musical genre that isn’t encompassed by Rotten Belly Blues.
Then “The Last Loving Thing” kicks in and removes all doubt. I’m not even sure what to call this song – there’s a knowing a nod to Geeshie Wiley, and hints of Django Reinhardt in Morgan’s understated guitar, and but as drummer Jason Hoffheins rolls in with a horn section (Ben Frazier on trumpet and Jason Roach on a 1934 baritone sax) in tow, and a rowdy choir led by pianist Will Markley (the Click Clack Boom) starts singing along, it sounds like we’re at a Pogues gig on Bourbon Street. What IS this stuff?
Michael insists it’s the blues. “It is the blues because we say it is. When we rock it's still the Blues, if you detect a country accent then it's country blues…when it gets jazzy, it's still the blues. IT'S ALL THE BLUES.”
After a pause to catch our breath (and mentally flip the virtual vinyl), the CD continues with “Hundred Dollar Bill Blues”. Two resonators wrassle in the background as Michael spins a tale of purchased passion. “I’ve got a hundred dollar bill / that says you like me…” I didn’t think they wrote ‘em like this anymore. I’m happy to be proven wrong.
“Lytle Creek Gold”, a tale of greed set during the Gold Rush, is perhaps the most beautiful song of the set. Once again performed in a stripped-down acoustic format, its simplicity harkens back to the two earlier Rotten Belly Blues albums, Forbidden Fruit and The Golden Rule.
“The Spanking Song” takes us back into full-tilt blues mode, with Dave Crane providing boozy slide and Kyle Morgan back on the 88s. Like most of the tunes on Rotten Belly Blues, it’s hard to imagine that someone else won’t want to take a stab at covering this gem. They’ll have a hard time topping the original, though.
“Testament”, the most obviously autobiographical of the songs, is chilling. “Let someone else have my last meal / I’ve got no appetite.” The tale of honesty and absolution, played acoustically and driven by Matt Gochenauer’s outstanding upright, is punctuated by an eerie gooseflesh-inducing electric guitar.
I had to look at the album credits to make certain “Every Stone” wasn’t an undiscovered Hank Williams song. Nope – like all of the other songs in this collection, it was written by Rotten Belly Michael. "For the most part these songs were born on a farm in the country", says Michael, "and, if they weren't born there, they were born on the road.”
The horn section returns for the album closer, “Oh What Love Can Do”. In fact, there are thirteen musicians playing on this soulful tour-de-force, including Nathaniel Hoho (the Click Clack Boom) and Alex Smith (the Backroad and Mean Mr. Mustard). The whole band swings as one, Basie-like, building to a thundering crescendo. Along the way, Erica Shellenberger is crowned the new Empress of the Blues. This is definitely the best new blues band I’ve heard in years, but it’s a lot more than that too.
This album is an amazing testament to ALL of the musicians who took part – nineteen, according to Michael’s recollection. “These folks find their own voice in the songs and make each one a unique statement,” he says. “The musicians who join with me in making this music bring such strengths to the work that I truly feel we are creating something that deserves to be heard.”
Bassist Mertz agrees. “During the sessions at Right Coast, I told Kyle it felt like we were in the middle of something big. He said ‘yes – and it’s in the middle of us.’ ”
The music sounds timeless, unconcerned with trends, aware of the past and ready for the future.
“It will stand up to time's passing,” says Michael, “just like the blues always has.
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