Album Notes

But the truth is that Fire in the Boathouse are cool, and they rock and swing. The band's mongrel blues-country-rock approach at times rings the Pavlovian bell of Let It Bleed­era Rolling Stones, especially when Wildman's unfettered saloon piano roars to the fore or drives the band the way Nicky Hopkins did for Mick and the guys in the '70s. And though songs like "Different Hat" sway to a honky-tonk two-four beat, they're also decorated with pretty harmonic details often built around the interplay of Jerry O'Hare's mandoguitar and layers of acoustic and electric picking and strumming.

Although Wildman considers Fire in the Boathouse a country conflagration, the best tag for their album may simply be "damn good music." "You Did Me In" has the muscular guitar and rhythmic heft of rock, as well as a killer chorus that's right for intelligent pop radio - if such a thing still exists. And "Black Helicopter" shimmers and creeps like the Fall. O'Hare's lap steel and mandoguitar help unify the sound: the strong currents of his fat slide tone pour from song to song, and the bright sparkle of the mando is the perfect sweetener for all the mid-to-slow tempo'd numbers. The line-up is completed by guitarist Jim Bouchard and bassist John Rapoza. As a group they strike a balance between necessity and complexity, each member developing his own intertwining parts and leaving space for everything else - including Wildman's lightly quavering vocals, which move easily from croon to keen to dark menace. As Aiello, who has played with the Radio Kings and a number of other traditional music outfits, points out, "There's such an intense rhythmic interplay going on in the band all the time that my set-up is perfect. All I really need to do is keep time." Like a clock - perfectly," Wildman adds.

Of course, Wildman's expressionist lyrics are another factor in Fire in the Boathouse's favor. They're often bizarre and personal, and they often deal with love collapsed. "That wasn't my intention," Wildman asserts, though he concedes he's not had terrific romantic success. "I wrote the songs spontaneously. Some of them go back years, but . . . well, sometimes I try to do this exercise where I just say whatever is exactly on my mind. I've tried to develop that, so when I'm writing a song I'm not consciously thinking about what's coming out. I don't want to question it, and I don't try to go back and shape it into a story."

The line-up itself formed from equally organic - yet tragic - circumstances. The musicians were already playing together as a group behind singer/songwriter Alexis Shepard, who died in a bicycle accident four days before she was to begin making her debut album. "We stayed together as friends to help each other through that tough time," says Aiello. And when Wildman saw them play at a memorial performance for Shepard, he knew he'd found his crew.
-Ted Drozdowski, The Boston Phoenix, Feb. 2001