Pour A Cold One

Never have we needed Blackstone Brewery more to bless our lineup of bands. Because folks, we’ve had nights of cerebral singer songwriters, and this ain’t that. We’ve had dudes with autoharps. This ain’t that. We’ve had bluegrass babes. Nor is it that. This is beer-drinking music through and through. Often there’s no easy thread tying our acts together, but there is here, at least in my fevered imagination. And it’s beer. Trucker rock, deep blues, quirky honky tonk. It all goes with a cold one or two. And so where perhaps I need to warn a few of you away until a night that will suit your more rarified tastes, I’m urging most of you to get out to the barn on Wednesday, because it’ll be the Loveless Roadhouse for sure.

I’m particularly excited to catch Patrick Sweany, a blues-rooted singer songwriter originally from Kent, OH (a surprising musical incubator) now based in Nashville. And when I say blues, I do NOT mean that band you’ve seen 100 times with the goateed chubby boomer-age guys with sunglasses and a gimmicky band name playing “Sweet Home Chicago.” Sweany has internalized the greasy righteous truth-telling blues of Southern hideaways and sweltering bayous. He knows his Elmore James and his Bukka White and his John Lee Hooker. His acoustic fingerpicking got him notice and support from Jorma Kaukonen and Roy Bookbinder, two of my idols. And his electric playing and fresh songwriting put him together with Black Keys dude Dan Auerbach who produced two of his albums. Sweany’s most recent is That Old Southern Drag, and man, it’s no drag. I think whatever else happens on Wednesday, you’ll be talking about Patrick Sweany after the show.

We’ve got two returning artists with whom much fun has been had in the past. Jonny Corndawg is our favorite rambling eccentric motorcycle-loving marathon-running leather Telecaster playing honky tonk shaman on the circuit today. For real, Johnny is an original, and he’ll leave you guessing, laughing and singing along. And Big Daddy Love is a righteous jamming country rock band out of Western North Carolina. They build a foundation of tight rhythm, brighten it up with banjo, extend it with thoughtful playing and cap it with the bold vocals of Daniel Justin Smith. They are indeed Appalachian Rock at its finest.

What else? Hard core trucker country from Jimbo Darville and the Truckadours (would you like pie with that ma’am?) and bar-room banging with a funky Louisiana beat from Highwater. Both of those will be new to me, but that’s part of the good times. The other part would of course be beer. We’ll bring an extra keg along for this one.

Craig H

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