Alright folks, we’ve been quiet gig-wise for a few months – but have been beavering away on some new songs in the studio since March and they are really shaping up nicely. We’ll be posting odd clips on our Youtube channel over the coming weeks and months, keep an eye out for them.
Here are some strings for a new song called ‘The Opposite of Worry’.
Who Are They? Is Shepard are Is Shepard is Is Shepard: A Newcastle based, bluesy/rocky three piece sweet. If you’ll cast your mind back all the way to June, we actually introduced this lot to you following the arrival of their ingeniously packaged CD dropped through our letter box. Masquerading as a full on birth certificate and sonogram, their Songs For Sons EP not only caught our eye, but was more than pleasing on the old ear holes.
Since then, the trio have laboured away (I’m hilarious) tirelessly and are on the cusp of unleashing even more noisy newborns on us all. Which we’ll get to further down.
Why We Liked It?
Well, it’s an utterly gorgeous little amalgamation of blues, soul, dark laboured riffs, menacing drumming and whiskey-soaked vocals that echoes elements of national mind-blowers The Bookhouse Boys, and even regional rabble rousers Chased By Wolves.
You know that scene in the Matrix where Neo and Trinity have a shoot-out in the lobbly? Well, imagine if after he set the security alarm off he opened his trenchcoat and there was reverb inside instead of guns. That’s this song.
In an age of dime a dozen, prancing, preening pop pratts, this is delightfully gritty diversion that gets foots nodding and heads tapping with all the gusto of a nervous suspect in a murder trial. I’m not the first person to slap the David Lynch sticker straight on to their foreheads, but it’s one that in its rhythm and feel, is impossible to ignore.
Twanging Elvis/ Chris Isaaks style guitar introduces this brooding classic, cautionary folk tale translated into bluesy rock and roll, retaining its minor key reflection, atmospheric intonation and clean melodic lines but adding effective touches of electronic colouration, spooky, shivering guitars to illustrate a modern day folk tale.
There’s a dark country road vibe to Pine Box, like it might take you into the woods and do unspeakable things to you. A rumbling blues backbone powers the track through its four shady minutes, as it bashes at chords and hammers your ears with sinister, deep-south-infused double bass. Bitter and knowing, it’s a rousing, rhythmic nightmare of raging proportions. It sits happily in the teeny tiny centre of the rock and roll/folk/country Venn diagram, where honesty and rebellion make scarce and excellent songs.