I enjoy the benefit of a music barometer, unavailable to most. It’s Bill’s car stereo. The unmistakable signal that something is really worth hearing is when it remains in that player for a while. Removing it can be momentarily akin to taking a gun from Charlton Heston.
The infallibility of that barometer has already been proven more than once and, most recently, with a band from America’s deep south, playing music that comes from an historical mishmash of styles including R&B, Country, Cajun, Blues, Swing, and vintage Rock ‘n’ Roll.
Not surprisingly, such a musical gumbo had its origins in the melting pot of Southwest Louisiana, and it was rocking jukeboxes along the Gulf Coast for a good couple of decades before venturing this latest, majestic tilt toward the mainstream.
The style is uniquely American, falling squarely within the myriad subtle shades of what I like to call Americana. As an outsider, I can afford to employ such a broad compass. The people who make this music, though, prefer to call it something else. To them it’s always been known as Swamp Pop.
And what the hell is Swamp Pop? Well, according to one quote in the superb documentary film explaining how The Lil’ Band O’ Gold came together, Swamp Pop is simply, “White guys, playing Black music, damn good”. Couldn’t have put it better myself.
If you don’t know any of the members of The Lil’ Band O’ Gold by name, there’s no need to doubt them, or their music. I can assure you, the limitations are simply your own. That each member of The Lil’ Band O’ Gold can validate its recognition as a Swamp Pop ‘supergroup’ is beyond question. You merely had the misfortune of growing up somewhere else, where they weren’t so important.
I arrived at this understanding independently, after hearing the album and wondering, “who the hell are these guys?”
The documentary explained plenty. How singer and guitarist, C.C. Adcock (you’ve heard of him, right?) had a desire to hang out with his heroes and promptly set about getting a band together, with many of them included. The members’ paths had all crossed previously, through years of working the same geography and some leapt at the chance, simply because their heroes were in this band as well. It’s inspiring stuff. For them, the music is regional, and for the rest of us, evocative.
With so many players bringing their own distinctive musical flavours to the table, the band’s album, ‘The Promised Land’ might well have ended up as a ship without a rudder, were it not for all the years of homegrown professionalism involved. These men know what they’re doing, and they are doing it for all the right reasons, not least of which, is for the sheer love of making music. That they choose to share their work with the rest of us is, for someone like me, living in a land far, far away, a genuine bonus.
Along with C.C. Adcock, in this lineup of Louisiana superstars, is Steve Riley, already widely acknowledged as one of the world’s greatest accordion players, and seven albums deep into his own career with his band, The Mamou Playboys.
And then, there’s Warren Storm. They call him ‘The Godfather of Swamp Pop’, so you can bet he has a history. And he does, as it turns out, having played with everyone from Slim Harpo and Dale & Grace, to Freddy Fender and John Fogerty but, even in his late sixties, he still performs this stuff just as it needs to be done. He also offers a languid but precise style of drumming. Along with his voice, it can, at times, be reminiscent of Levon Helm, himself, a native of the northern neighbouring state of Arkansas. In fact, I’ll suggest that there are several moments whilst listening to ‘The Promised Land’ when it felt very close to the sound of The Band while still at their peak. That’s how seriously good, and unashamedly American, this Lil’ Band O’ Gold happens to be. You can bet your last dollar, they don’t stoop to ‘auto-tuning’ their vocals down in Lafayette.
It’s a point I need to emphasise, because I know there will be those who still won’t get it. Who won’t share my particular passion for authentic Americana.
Apart from the thoroughly enjoyable documentary of their history and an album which can feel like an old friend after the first few listens, the other big news about The Lil’ Band O’ Gold is that they are about to embark on their first tour of Australia. Whilst I am disappointed that they won’t be making it as far north as Brisbane, there remain a few opportunities for others to catch one of their small handful of shows.
They will be playing gigs in Victoria at the Meeniyan Town Hall on the 28th of March, and at the Northcote Social Club on the 29th of March. They will also be at the RSL Memorial Hall in Moruya, New South Wales on the 30th.
Most, however, will get to see them at one of their three scheduled performances during this year’s Bluesfest at Byron Bay, where the band is certain to be a highlight.
If you’re still not sure, then check out this link for a clip from the ‘Promised Land’ documentary film: www.room609.com
And for a taste of the music, visit the band’s MySpace page. It features the first two songs from ‘The Promised Land’ album, “Spoonbread” and “I Don’t Wanna Know”, plus a couple more. http://www.myspace.com/lilbandogold
As for their ‘Promised Land’ album, The Lil’ Band O’ Gold issues its music independently via Room 609 Records, so you may need to investigate further at your favourite record store. By the way, the 17th of April is the annual (international) Record Store Day. Maybe your favourite import store has not quite gone out of business just yet. So, here’s the perfect excuse to pay them that long-overdue visit.
Meanwhile, if you are able to catch The Lil’ Band O’ Gold during their brief Australian visit, I strongly urge you to do so. Just imagine, telling your friends how lucky you were to see a band with 8 members, 25 egos and 6 livers!
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