Tuesday, July 06, 2004

Last night finally brought the Reigning Sound into town, and boy, was it ever worth the wait. Even with a seriously stripped down line-up and a drummer who had spend exactly eight days and eight gigs with the band, this was a show of legendary proportions, no two ways about it. The whole thing that made me like the Oblivians so much, and why I'm so completely gone over the Reigning Sound's last two LPs, was laid out transparent-like in this basic setting, ie; Greg Cartwright is someone who has sponge-like soaked up all the right influences over the years (you know what they are, tho' you might want to ad a bit of Springsteen for good measure) and is able to distill something that is completely his own from just that; the kind of American music one usually associates with the likes of John Fogerty or Jerry Lee but all geared up for the new millennium. High praise indeed, but both as a singer and songwriter you can not mistake Greg for anybody else, whether he takes on ol' Everly Brothers or Lightnin' Hopkins tunes or dips into his own back-catalogue of instant classics. Couple that with a delivery that holds more downright soul than the entire "Urban" section of your local CD emporium put together, and you might begin to get the picture. God knows when they will ever return to these shores (if at all), but given' the chance of catchin' 'em in action one day, don't you ever, ever think about forsakin'.