New York Music Daily

Global Music With a New York Edge

Category: stoner music

A Free Saturday Night Brooklyn Show by Psychedelic Desert Rock Guitarslinger Bombino

Fiery Tuareg jamband leader and lead guitar wizard Omara “Bombino” Moctar lives on the road. Over the years, he’s also been able to put out a surprisingly diverse series of albums that continue to push the envelope and change the face of Saharan psychedelic guitar music. His latest album, Azel – meaning “roots” in his native Tamasheq and streaming at his music page – is a lot more terse and crystallized than you migiht expect from a master of the recently resurgent art of lead guitar. He and his five-piece band are playing a free show at 7:30 PM this Saturday night, July 23 at 7:30 PM at Prospect Park Bandshell. Femi Kuti – Fela’s kid – leads his Afrobeat band afterward sometime around 9.

Recorded by Dirty Projectors’ David Longstreth over a ten-day period in Woodstock, the album’s production thankfully doesn’t gloss over Bombino’s signature edge and bite. If anything, the sound is enhanced by increased bass  presence along with crystalline percussion balanced in the corners of the mix. Although Bombino has made it clear that this album is heavily influenced by classic roots reggae, that doesn’t come through as clearly as it could. The songs here, many of them familiar from concerts over the past couple of years, are a lot more dynamic than your typical rootsy two-chord jam, typically keeping things closer to the ground than the long improvisational firestorms that Bombino is known for onstage.

The opening track, Akhar Zaman (This Moment) is a typical blend of catchy and hypnotic, although Bombino’s Tamasheq lyrics address the harsh toll cultural imperialism has taken on his native land’s arts and culture. Iwaranagh (We Must) is even catchier, centered around Bombino’s penchant for playing desert riffs within the structure of American rock chord changes and hooks. The third track, the all-acoustic Inar (If You Know tHow Much I Love You) benefits from Longstreth’s beefed-up production.

Tamiditine Tarhanam (I Tell You,My Love) returns to blazing, distortion-fueled desert rock, the bandleader’s rapidfire hammer-on riffage bringing to mind Vieux Farka Toure. Timtar (Memories)  sounds like that same song capoed up the guitar neck, its call-and-response lyrics contemplating a relationship on the rocks.

From its ominous, distantly Sabbath-inflected solo guitar intro to its jagged, similarly dark reggae groove and long, grim sprint to the finish line (or the grave), Iyat Ninhay/Jaguar (A Great Desert I Saw) reflects the imminent danger of getting lost in the Sahara’s endless expanse. The gently exploratory, acoustic Igmayagh Dum (My Lover) makes a striking contrast. The hushed acoustic ambience grows even duskier with the understatedly elegaic Ashuhada (Martyrs of the First Rebellion), the album’s most trad track.

Bombino plugs in again, seamlessly blending his tube-amped, distorted multitracks in the hard-hitting, anthemic Timidiwa (Friendship). The album winds up with the mutedly hypnotic, acoustic Naqqim Dagh Timshar (We Are Left in This Abandoned Place). If Tinariwen are the Grateful Dead of desert rock (musically at least), then Bombino is the style’s Jefferson Airplane – or, as far as cross-pollination is concerned, its Ravi Shankar. Psychedelic music fans in New York would be crazy to miss Saturday night’s show, especially since lately there always seems to be plenty of room in the arena. And, oh yeah, the concert is free.

The Night Beats Bring Their Acid-Warped Soul and Garage Rock Vamps to Williamsburg

Has there been any album awash in and radiating as much reverb as the Night Beats‘ Who Sold My Generation released in the past…um…couple of decades? They put reverb on everything, except the growly bass. Otherwise, every other element in the mix, from the guitars to the drums to the vocals, takes about an extra second to filter out. The result is as trippy as the band’s songs are catchy, a throwback to the gonzo early days of mid-60s acid rock, equally informed by classic soul and garage sounds. And audiences have responded: if there’s ever been an example of how much filthy lucre there is in great music, consider the Night Beats’ success. They play good venues coast to coast, and are headlining a solid psychedelic twinbill on July 16 at 10ish at Rough Trade, with neo-Stooges rockers Acid Dad opening at 9. General admission is $12.

The album’s opening track, Celebration kicks off with frontman Danny Lee Blackwell’s multitracked guitars panning the speakers, and funny samples of some British guy commenting on how the tape recorder is a toy to be cast away with funny hats after the party. A searing, bluesy guitar solo builds behind the washes of fuzz and reverb, then segues into the strutting Power Child, a one-chord jam that explodes in a flurry of drummer James Traeger’s cymbals and reverb on the chorus, a shrieking wah guitar lead blasting over Jakob Bowden’s catchy, funky bass.

The band leaves the vamps behind for the hooky Right Wrong, a booze-soaked lost-love scenario that builds to an anthemically burning Brian Jonestown Massacre-style groove, up to the guitar solo out. Likewise, No Cops follows a pounding one-chord neo-Velvets pulse, a more ornate take on what the Jon Spencer Blues Explosion made their mark with twenty years ago. Porque Manana works a similar vamp with latin soul tinges and another rippling, purposeful guitar solo. And Sunday Mourning differentiates itself from the Velvets classic not only with a slight title change but also its anthemically crescendoing, bluesily shuffling drive and searing, sunbaked wah guitars.

Shangri Lah veers on and off a fiery spaghetti western gallop, pretty much a dead ringer for something from the Love catalog circa the Da Capo album. Burn to Breathe pairs unhinged Country Joe & the Fish guitars over a midtempo sway as the drums cluster and rumble: “You stare at the wall and your heart stops,” Blackwell intones nonchalantly. The band add punchy brass to Bad Love, an ominous soul-clap number with Tex-Mex touches.

Last Train to Jordan follows an endlessly echoey psychedelic strut tangent beneath toxic exhaust trails of guitar, while Turn the Lights picks up the pace with echoes of gutter blues. The album winds up on a high note with the pouncing, Middle Eastern-tinged Egypt Berry, a twisted mashup of Monkees and Paint It Black era Stones. Take a trip and never leave Williamsburg with these guys this Saturday night.

Dervisi Recreate a Shadowy World of Gangsters, Underground Revolutionaries and Hash Smoke

As guitarist Steve Antonakos puts it, Dervisi – his rembetiko guitar duo with fellow six-stringer George Sempepos – plays “gangster blues.” The two put a psychedelic spin on the haunting, Middle Eastern-flavored sound borne on waves of displacement when hundreds of thousands of refugees, most of them of Greek heritage, returned to their ancestral land from Cyprus and Turkey in the wake of brutality and repression in the years right before World War I. Aliens from a Middle Eastern culture suddenly thrown into a Mediterranean one, many of these people became part of the underground resistance to tyranny on their new turf. Their music is plaintive, full of cruel ironies and soul and colorful stories, in the same vein as American blues.

For the last couple of years, Dervisi have held down a couple of regular monthly residencies in Brooklyn and Queens. Sempepos is one of the real mavens of Mediterranean and Middle Eastern psychedelia, dating from his days leading Annabouboula, one of the few Greek psych bands to reach an audience beyond the Aegean. These days, he also leads even harder-rocking surf band the Byzantones. Antonakos also has a background in Greek psychedelia, notably with Magges, and is a ubiquitous presence in the New York Americana scene. He’s one of the most interesting and instantly recognizable lead guitar virtuosos around, but in this band he plays mainly rhythm. It was fun to catch their Greenpoint residency at Troost earlier this month; on June 16, they return to their regular Queens haunt, the intimate Espresso 77 at 35-57 77th St. in Jackson Heights; take the 7 train to 74th St./Broadway..

In Dervisi’s music, you can hear where Dick Dale got his inspiration. This time out Sempepos had not only his his guitar but also a saz lute, which he hit pretty hard for all manner of plinks and clanks: it has a very distinctive, spiky sound, well-suited to the music’s serpentine, slinky grooves. Singing in Greek in his signature, sonorous baritone, he and Antonakos were joined by ex-Annabouboula clarinetist George Stathos, who added uneasily quavery melismatics and tightly wound spirals as the stringed instruments fluttered and sputtered behind him. One by one, Sempepos explained the songs for those in the crowd (probably everybody) who didn’t speak Greek. A defiantly catchy, steadily pulsing anthem celebrated the joys of smoking hash with fellow stoners. A jailhouse scenario, a bunch of bad guys conspiring what they were going to do when they got out, was more low-key.

The most memorable tune of the night might have been a stalking number told from the point of view of Death, who goes out looking for the party just like everybody else. The duo also took a couple of the classics that the Byzantones play and brought them full circle, back to their smoky, rustic, broodingly modal roots. Late in the set, they surprised everybody with a jaunty Bollywood freak-folk theme. This music may seem esoteric, and one level it is, but so is cumbia, and look at how that went global. Maybe rembetiko is next: if Antonakos and Sempepos get their way, someday it will be.

Balkan Psychedelic Band Choban Elektrik Sets Park Slope on Fire: Bed-Stuy is Next

More about that killer original Balkan music twinbill at Friends & Lovers in Bed-Stuy on June 15 at 8 PM, with psychedelic Balkan organ band Choban Elektrik and the elaborate, artful, mighty Serbian-style Raya Brass Band. It’s not clear who’s playing first, but it doesn’t really matter: both put on a wild live show.

Choban Elektrik were part of another ferocious doublebill at the end of April at Barbes, opening for rembetiko metal band Greek Judas. The quartet – Jordan Shapiro on organ, Jesse Kotansky on violin, Dave Johnson on bass and Phil Kester on drums – opened with a familiar Madeconian folk song, switching from major to minor, violin in tandem with the organ through some labyrinthine tempo shifts, Shapiro adjusting his textures from swirly roto to smoky hot. He left the smoke on through the similarly knotty, leaping and bounding, ebullient instrumental after that, bass bubbling, drums tumbling and careening as the organ spiraled upward. It’s tempting to say that their performance was sort of the Balkan equivalent of Emerson, Lake and Palmer doing Moussorgsky, but the keyboard timbres and enigmatic cascades were probably closer to the Doors – with a violinist from ELO, maybe.

Shapiro sang the next song, a rousing tune that for some reason sounded like amped-up Jamaican rocksteady with a more complicated groove and a hypnotically vamping, glimmering, upper-register Ray Manzarek-style organ solo. Appropriately, Shapiro switched to an echoey Riders on the Storm electric piano patch for the next number as the rhythm section delivered a sliced-and-diced gallop. A gritty, insistent, distorto organ crescendo gave way to uneasily sailing violin that surged forward toward shivery In the Hall of the Mountain King menace. A molten-metal, altered organ cha-cha practically segued into an organ arrangement of a punchy, pouncing Macedonian brass tune, then a number that sounded like a Balkan take on Rare Earth: surreal to the extreme. It’s almost funny to consider that such as tuneful band as this could be a spinoff of Zappa cover act Project/Object.

Greek Judas headlined. They haven’t changed their set much since they first started, but they haven’t really needed to since their songs are so creepy, and colorful, and the band jams the hell out of them. As is their custom, bandleader Wade Ripka alternated between distorted lapsteel and Strat, running each through a big Fender amp – inarguably the loudest band ever to play Barbes. Bassist Nick Cudahy and drummer Chris Stromquist wore deer and moose masks, respectively, if memory serves right (it was late; Kate kept bringing beers and that was impossible to resist). Guitarist Adam Good did not. Frontman/horn player Quince Marcum was decked out in a Byzantine gothic monk’s outfit: with his bushy beard, he really looked the part. With one long, searing, Middle Eastern-flavored jam after another and Marcum doing his usual bit explaining the Greek lyrics in detail, they kept the drinkers in the house through tales of lost love, drug smuggling, henpecked husbands and crack whores on the Athens streets in the late 1920s. Greek Judas bring their trippy attack to Leftfield this Saturday night, June 11 at 10 PM, where they threaten to be the loudest act ever to play there as well.

Slow Season Bring Their Wickedly Psychedelic Stoner Metal to Bushwick on the Fifth

Listening to Slow Season‘s deliciously psychedelic 2012 debut – newly remastered for vinyl just this year and streaming at Bandcamp – it’s fun to see how the band has evolved. Even back then, they were heavy – that’s the title of the first song they ever recorded. It’s a boogie, and it’s pretty simple, just a one-chord verse and then a chorus that’s closer to, say, the dark garage rock of the Black Angels than the bludgeoning stoner metal they’re mining these days. But they wind up the song in a flurry of jazz chords. An omen, or just the way it came out? They’re headlining a killer bill at the Acheron on June 5 at around 11; fellow stoners Sun Voyager, who go in a more garagey, early 70s Stooges/Sonics Rendezvous Band direction, hit at around 10. Cover is an absurdly cheap $7.

As for the rest of the record –  a new one is due out this year – it’s a trip. DayGlo Sunrise builds to a snarling interweave of multitracked David Kent wah guitar leads over frontman Daniel Rice’s simple minor-key blues riff. There’s – gasp – acoustic guitar and organ on the dynamically rich, surprisingly Beatlesque Evil Words. Drummer Cody Tarbell – one of the most consistently interesting players in all of rock – anchors the slinky, jangling guitars of Deep Forest with a distant, stygian rumble, and then swings the hell out of it when the band turns it into a boogie.

With its lattice of mandolins and between-Scylla-and-Charybdis metaphors, Ruah looks back to acoustic Zep, while the riff-rocking Coco a Gogo has to be the most unlikely place you’d ever expect to hear an expert Brian Setzer-style rockabilly solo. Bassist Hayden Doyel plays with a gritty, vintage 60s tone beneath the deep, bluesy jangle and clang of No Bridge Rag, which has the feel of what Jimmy Page was doing in the Yardbirds’ final incarnation. The last track is the bone-bleached fuzztone-and-wah epic Bars & Bars.“The flames keep calling,” Rice intones a couple of times at the very end – ain’t that the truth. Come out to the ‘Shweck on the fifth to see how much heavier the band has grown since then.

Texas Art-Rock Jamband and Neil Young Collaborators Lukas Nelson & Promise of the Real in Williamsburg Tonight

If the idea of blowing off work or school today to wait for hours in the suddenly scorching sun for this evening’s free MOMA Summergarden event – where the new Neil Young album is being premiered over the PA at 6 out behind the museum – doesn’t appeal to you, there’s a relatively inexpensive alternative tonight at Brooklyn Bowl where Lukas Nelson & Promise of the Real, who back Young on the record, are playing their own stuff at around 9. Cover is a reasonable $15. That a band that packs stadiums coast to coast hasn’t sold out this comparatively smaller venue testifies to something really troubling as far as live music in New York is concerned.

The group’s latest album Something Real is streaming at Spotify. The opening track, Surprise, is exactly that, kicking off with a wry Pink Floyd quote and then hitting a bluesy metal sway over an altered version of the hook from Sabbath’s Paranoid .Then they make a doublespeed Blue Oyster Cult boogie of sorts out of it. The title track is a straight-up boogie: “I got tired of trying to please everybody…you’re just a name in a picture frame,” the bandleader rails, then bassist Corey McCormick, percussionist Tato Melgar and drummer Anthony LoGerfo take it down for a searing, blues-infused solo. These guys don’t coast on their bloodlines: Lukas and Micah Nelson play like they really listened to their dad…at his loudest.

Set Me Down on a Cloud has a pretty straight-up, growling Neil-style country-rock sway. Don’t Want to Fly has a similar groove, a dark stoner blues gem that David Gilmour would probably love to have written. Ugly Color is an unlikely successful, epic mashup of Santana slink, Another Brick in the Wall art-pop and BoDeans highway rock. Speaking of the BoDeans, the ballad Georgia is a tensely low-key ringer for something from that band circa 1995.

This brother outfit goes back to boogie blues with the strutting I’ll Make Love to You Any Ol’ Time. Then they blast through Everything Is Fake in a swirling hailstorm of tremolo-picking. The album winds up with an amped-up cover of Scott McKenzie’s famous 1967 janglepop hit San Francisco, Neil Young cameo included. It’s sad how so few children of noteworthy rock musicians have lived up to their parents’ greatness – on the other hand, it’s heartwarming to see these guys join the ranks of Amy Allison (daughter of Mose), the Wallflowers’ Jakob Dylan and Sean Lennon. And these guys rock a lot harder than all of them.

Desert Flower’s Menacing Heavy Psychedelic Debut: One of 2016’s Best Albums

Desert Flower are one of the half-dozen best bands in New York right now. The heavy psychedelic quintet spice their wickedly tight, menacingly careening, darkly individualistic sound with punk, stoner blues, 70s boogie and echoes of gothic rock. They’re also notable for being one of the few psychedelic bands out there fronted by a woman, powerful bluesy wailer/keyboardist Bela Zap Art. What Jefferson Airplane were to San Francisco, 1967 or what Siouxsie & the Banshees were to London, 1985, Desert Flower are to New York in 2016. Their debut ep – streaming at Soundcloud – instantly vaults them into contention for putting out the best album of the year. Right now they’re back in the studio – watch this space for future NYC dates.

Much as Zap Art has Ann Wilson power and intensity, the studio setting here gives her a chance to project far more subtlety than she typically gets a chance to do out in front of the marauding twin-guitar attack of Migue Mendez and Paola Luna. Likewise, bassist Seba Fernandez and drummer Alfio Casale get to show off dynamics that sometimes don’t make it into their high-voltage live show.

The first track, Darketa opens with a wash of guitar sitar before Fernandez’s slinky bassline kicks in and the band sways along, Mendez’s lysergic echoes ringing out against Luna’s gritty attack, Zap Art rising from a wounded, guarded intensity, to trippy lows that she runs through a phaser. As the song builds toward a pulsing peak and Fernandez’s catchy bass hook pans the speakers behind Mendez’s searing lead, it suddenly becomes clear that it’s just a one-chord jam!

Longest Way is a brisk mashup of downstroke postpunk and classic Motor City rock: “Let me take you to the secret place, where nobody can see your face,” Zap Art intones enigmatically. The majestic, haunting Sube sways along over an uneasily pouncing 6/8 groove, an orchestra of guitars channeling ornate Nektar-ish art-rock and MBV dreampop, “Going down on the grey skies,” Zap Art belts ominously.

Tango follows a creepily pulsing southwestern gothic trajectory, fueled by Mendez’s slide guitar and Luna’s lingering, brooding lines. The catchiest of the originals here, Warrior stomps along over an incisive, sarcastically faux-martial groove, with tongue-in-cheek trombone and some tasty, purist blues playing from Mendez.

The centerpiece of the record is Traveler, a towering 6/8 anthem by a friend in Buenos Aires. Zap Art plays macabre washes of sound on her organ as Mendez alternates between fat, vibrato-laden lines and a menacing growl, Luna anchoring it with her murky, watery broken chords. Look for this on the best albums of the year page in December if we make it that far.

Sandaraa Build a Magical Bridge with Pakistani and Jewish Sounds

You want esoteric…and way fun? How about a mashup of Pakistani and klezmer sounds? Meet south Asian/Jewish jamband Sandaraa (Pashto for “song”). While they have some rock instrumentation, they’re not a rock band. They sound more Middle Eastern than anything else, which makes sense since Jewish music has roots there, and those exotic modes filtered east centuries, even millennia ago. The brainchild of star Pakistani chanteuse Zebunnisa Bangash and klezmer clarinet powerhouse Michael Winograd, the band also includes Dolunay violinist Eylem Basaldi, Klezmatics/Herbie Hancock drummer Richie Barshay, bassist David Lizmi (of bewitchingly noir cinematic band Karla Rose & the Thorns and Moroccan trance group Innov Gnawa), supersonic accordionist Patrick Farrell, and Israeli surf/metal/jazz guitarist Yoshie Fruchter. Their debut album is streaming at Storyamp, and they’ve got an album release show on May 11 at 7 PM at the big room at the Rockwood; cover is $12. After that, they’re at Barbes on May 16 at 7 PM where they debut their new Urdu poetry-inspired project The Pomegranate of Sistan, addressing “religious orthodoxy and nationalism across cultural divides.”

.While a lot of westerners may associate Pakistan with ghazals and qawwali, Sandaraa incorporate more rustic styles from remote regions of the country. The album’s opening track, Jegi Jegi Lailajan opens with an edgy Middle Eastern freygish riff and then slinks along on an undulating, syncopated groove, Bangash’s suspensefully enticing, air-conditioned delivery rising to warmer heights and then back to more pensive terrain. Who knew Barshay could play clip-clop south Asian percussion, or how effortlessly Fruchter would gravitate to the spiky phrasing of Pakistani rubab music?

Surrealistically blippy Their Majesties Satanic Request organ underscores Bangash’s expressive delivery as the band opens Mana Nele, then they ride Farrell’s pulsing, Qawwali-esque accordion waves, Basaldi and Winograd delivering achingly melancholy, Middle Eastern modal riffage in tandem.

Winograd opens Bibi Sanem Janem with a brief, starkly cantorially-inspired clarinet taqsim, then Fruchter pushes it along with his moody oud until Barshay’s tumbling qawwali groove and Farrell’s steady pulse take over. Winograd takes it out with a long, vividly austere, low-register solo.

A tenderly catchy, shapeshifting lullaby, Dilbarake Nazinim opens with an expansively rustic, pensive solo from Fruchter. The album winds up with the slinky, upbeat Haatera Tayiga, a jaunty mashup that best capsulizes the joyous stylistic brew this band manages to conjure: it’s amazing how much they manage to pack into a single song. As musical hybrids go, there hasn’t been an album this fun or full of surprises released this year.

Tuneful Heavy Psych Epics from River Cult

River Cult is the latest project of guitarist Sean Forlenza, late of epically intense, cinematic heavy rockers Eidetic Seeing. That band really liked long songs, a trait that Forlenza has carried even further on his new band’s debut ep, streaming at Bandcamp.The power trio builds a roaring, enveloping, psychedelic envelope of sound that’s a lot more propulsive than your typical stoner metal or postrock band.

The opening track,. Temps Perdu is a pounding mashup of the early Dream Syndicate, Daydream Nation-era Sonic Youth and My Bloody Valentine. As long as this song is – just a tad under ten minutes – it’s awfully catchy. Forlenza’s reverb-cloud solo slowly works toward a frantic shriek over Anthony Mendolia’s growling bass and drummer Tav Palumbo’s matter-of-fact, hard-hitting sway. From there they segue through a hypnotically looping outro to Shadow Out Of Time, Forlenza using his slide, again with a ton of reverb over a slow, loping beat. Tempos shift, they hit a headless horseman gallop, riffs echoing Sleep or vintage Sabbath, then finally take it out in a morass of bleeding amps and a twisted kaleidoscope of sound, like scanning the radio dial but not pulling a single clear signal.

The final cut is A Drop In The Ocean – gee, wonder what THAT one is about, huh? Interestingly, it’s the most straightforward number here: at its molten core, it’s an Abbey Road Beatles dirge as a vintage 70s stoner group like Poobah might have done it. Good music for slipping away from reality on a gloomy Sunday.

7horse Bring Their LMAO Stoner Vibe and Catchy, Heavy Sounds to Bowery Electric

7horse play party music that’s not stupid. You might know them from their huge youtube hit, A Friend in Weed. The LA duo have an irrepressible, sardonic sense of humor and a much bigger sound than you’d expect from just a two-piece: big, burning, distorted guitars and an equally epic drum sound. Phil Leavitt sings with a brash but honest, unaffected delivery; guitarist Joie Calio layers his tracks for stadium heft and bulk. Their latest album Living in a Bitch of a World isn’t out yet, but they’ll be playing plenty of it at their show at 9 PM on April 15 at Bowery Electric. Cover is $10

It opens with the title track, a catchy, cynical midtempo number that’s part Dolls, part mid-70s Lou Reed: “Spending quality time with people I hate,” Leavitt complains. Two Stroke Machine – a motorcycle reference – has a four-on-the-floor Mellencamp thump and tasty layers of jangly Rickenbacker guitar, a wry tale about the hard life of a smalltime weed dealer.

The funniest track is their cover of the BeeGees’ Stayin’ Alive, reinvented as a stoner boogie. What might be funniest is that you can actually understand the lyrics, which are pretty awful. Leavitt stays down in his range rather than reaching for Barry Gibb’s helium highs. Dutch Treat isn’t as successful: the joke of a couple of white dudes doing a halfhearted spoof of putrid corporate hip-hop wears thin fast.

One Week is another boogie, a teens update on ZZ Top. 400 Miles from Flagstaff brings back the meat-and-potatoes highway rock, followed by the Stonesy, slide guitar-fueled Liver Damage Victims. Then they go back to heavy-lidded boogie with Answer the Bell: “The light in your eyes is making you sick,” Leavitt bellows knowingly.

Stick to the Myth is a real surprise, a brooding, minor-key kiss-off anthem, and it’s the best song on the album. They keep the low-key simmer going with Drift, a slow, pensive 6/8 stoner blues. The album winds up with She’s So Rock n Roll, an irresistibly spot-on parody of early 70s glam. For now, til the new record’s out, you can get a full-length immersion in what they sound like with their more roughhewn, gutter blues-oriented previous album, Songs for a Voodoo Wedding, streaming at Spotify.