Back in the old days, a proto-version of the Black River’s described themselves as something called “Electric Americana.” I don’t know if they are still using that phrase in their marketing materials, but as I was working on this review for their latest album it jumped back into my mind and stayed…

The harvest is past, the summer is ended, and we are not saved. So sayeth the book of Jeremiah, and this time I might even believe it. The chill has cut away at this most claustrophobic of summers, as an election puts a pit of dread in everyone’s stomach. As Dylan said in Desolation Row, when you…

As this lockdown drags on, excitement is at a premium. Foghat’s “Slow Ride,” once just a guilty pleasure, has now become a breakfast tradition. Which is another way of saying that a new album to review felt something like Christmas in April. All the more interesting because the Devil Doves are a…

In August of 2011, the usually boring world of guitar production was jolted by the arrival of federal agents at three Gibson guitar facilities in Tennessee. The agents executed a search warrant and seized large quantities of Madagascar Ebony and Indian Rosewood thought to have been imported by…