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Blue Trash (2003) |
[ Reviews | Track list & MP3s | Lyrics | | Buy now! ]
Reviews
"A great sounding,
traditional feeling record that colors outside the lines".
Bass Player Magazine US
"...excellent new album!".
Paul Jones - BBC Radio2
"...The Spikedrivers have the unique ability to conjure a presence,
a sense of place,
from a sound..."
Blues
In Britain UK
"...The atmosphere the band is able
to create around its music is nothing
less than remarkable".
Blues Revue US
Blues Revue (US) - Dec 04/Jan 05 There's something about the Spikedrivers that keeps you wanting more. Even better, the more you hear Bluetrash, the more you find to listen to. The remarkable thing is its simplicity: three simpatico musicians playing acoustic instruments. Yet there's nothing simplistic about their arrangements, and the atmosphere the band is able to create around its music is nothing less than remarkable. The band (whose members hail from America and Northern Ireland) mines Delta blues with near-religious respect for the genre. Their sound is built around Ben Tyzack's acoustic guitar, vocals, and harmonica, while Constance Redgrave and Maurice McElroy trade off lead and support vocals, doing double duty as rhythm players (bass and drums, respectively). All songs are originals and though many plumb the sacrosanct depths of hardcore country blues, the lyrical content maintains a toehold on modern themes. Key tracks include the title cut, wherein Tyzack conveys the pain of having "the blues so bad" as Redgrave accompanies on washboard and McElroy adds depth through a Nigerian Udu drum. Tyzack delivers a slickly seductive guitar tone on "Oklahoma Stardust Blues" as though emulating the lonesome cry of a pedal steel; you can hear Ry Cooder cry during the inspired intro and leads. The lazy shuffle "Garbage Man Blues" marries old sounds to modern lyrics: "Everybody needs me/But nobody loves me." Redgrave's "Grampa Was a Moonshiner" shows a different side of the band as Redgrave pins the history of her dysfunctional white-trash family against a swampy, ghostlike canvas. Comic relief comes in the form of McElroy's relaxed vocals on "Junk Mail Blues" and "Where Did the Money Go," reminding us that blues revolves around mirth as well as darkness and depression. There are recurrent themes of trains, tractors, and trash across the record that, despite its moody explorations, remains soothing and buoyant. The transition from the sorrowful "Train Done Gone" to the jubilant "Massey Ferguson Blues" is a trip worth taking, as Tyzack's hard-picking, sinuous baritone guitar and growling vocals give Fat Possum's juke-joint sound a run for its money. "Burning Through Time" recalls the fluid mysticism of early Peter Green. Before long, you find yourself craving more from this eclectic trio Eric Thom - Blues Revue
|
Blues In Britian (UK) - 2004 Within Seconds you'll be drifting through the delta land with the title track on this excellent CD, then on to the hot dry plains on "Train Done Gone". SPIKEdrivers have the unique ability to conjure a presence, a sense of place, from a sound. This is the second album with the current line-up, and also the second album produced by Phill Brown. A lot of the feeling that comes across here must be put down to the recording methods used by Phill at the Helioscentric studios, engineering sound on to a treasure trove of vintage analogue recording machinery, but in at least equal measure it's provided by SPIKEdrivers themselves. Ben Tyzack plays a variety of guitars, including a Lowden acoustic tuned down to C, placing it in the baritone register beloved of Bob Brozman, and an old Hofner Committee which on "Oklahoma Stardust Blues" is guaranteed to give you shivers of pleasure. The instruments all count and you can really hear why Ben chose each one. Other guitars include a Gibson 125 and a Dobro-style resonator guitar made from a metal mixing bowl, although it looks more like a colander to me! Ben's voice is stronger than ever, and although he is responsible for 11 of the songs you would swear that these were blues songs archived and collected 50 years or more ago. Constance Redgrave provides solid bass as ever and her vocals are getting stronger too; she contributes two songs. "You Don't Care" has a smoky, cabaret-like feel with echoes of Julie London and Lotte Lenya. This also emphasises another aspect of SPIKEdrivers on this album, they are still firmly rooted in the blues but they are bringing jazz and folk and world stylings by implication into a musical style which is becoming uniquely their own. "Grampa Was A Moonshiner" takes us firmly into bluegrass territory seeped in 100% overproof spirit! Drummer Maurice McElroy's voice blends well with the others and on his two feature numbers, "Junk Mail Blues" and "Where Did The Money Go?", show a wry sense of humour can go a long way! Maurice is very much the rhythmic pluse of SPIKEdrivers and has brought some really unusual drums into the mix. These include an Udu drum, originating in Nigeria, reinvented in the States about 30 years ago and now often found in Flamenco music, and a Cajon, a wooded box like drum, with resonating strings and bells (what no whistles?), again with a flamenco feel but here bringing a feel of the southlands. Fans of the band will not be disappointed, this album repays careful
listening even more than their last, and anyone not familiar with
the band who listens with open ears as it were, cannot fail to be
converted on the sopt. Paul Soper - Blues In Britian
|
Bass Player Magazine (US) - 2004 This UK-based blues trio sounds like they'd be more at home in the Mississippi Delta. The acoustic slide of Ben Tyzack dominates, the rhythm section work of Bassist Constance Redgrave and Maurice McElroy is fresh and inventive, breaking some well preserved conventions. On two tracks, the use of the Udu drum is a startling texture, yet fitting if you take the music to it's roots, which is something The Spikedrivers manage without being archival. A great sounding, traditional feeling record that colours outside the lines Ed Friedland - Bass Player
|
Triple R Blues Radio (NL) - 2004 Blue Trash is one of the finest albums I ever heard, I cannot quite "put it in a genre", it has the best of country blues, delta blues, something a little funky, sometimes mysterious, and one of the great things in it is the passion.... you can almost feel it.... you can almost feel the love... the love for the music, the love of playing together... the love of having such a gift: making great music. Ton Wanton - Triple R Blues Radio
|
Mike 'the beehive' Elliot - 2004 The Spikedrivers have eschewed the easy option of following up on an existing formula and have produced a brilliant album of mid-west American urban blues, with a distinctly British twist. The songs are mainly about problems of life in the twenty-first century, with sentiments that anyone will relate to. The fourteen tracks don't have a weak link and offer exceedingly good value. Ben Tyzack penned ten of these, generally taking lead vocals and showcasing his superb guitar skills and ballsy vocal style. This is epitomised in 'The Massey Ferguson Blues', a perceptive commentary on aging. Ben does offer a couple of obligatory railroad songs, 'Train Done Gone' uses an effective change of pace, whilst 'Layin' Down Lincolns' reflects the boredom of being a wage slave. For my money, an album should have a defining track that makes me feel it is worth buying the CD just for that and 'Blue Trash' never let me down here. 'Grampa Was A Moonshiner' written and sung by brilliant bass guitarist, Constance Redgrave hit me right between the eyes. It is a masterpiece about race relations, mixed marriages and the problems of kids. The war drums are quite threatening and the repeated phrase "Dust Yourself Off.Walk On" is a superb piece of advice for us all. I guarantee you'll hit the skip back button. Throughout the entire CD Maurice McElroy plays his drums with great sensitivity, but he is allowed to showcase his sense of humour, with the lament of the dissolute, 'Where Did All The Money Go?' and 'Junk Mail Blues.' We understand his problems. Ben's perceptive eye produces a witty song in 'Garbage Man Blues' and I have great sympathy for this guy who realises that everybody needs him but nobody loves him. Ain't life a bitch! He picks up a suggestive laddish attitude in 'Seven Little Words', which are "I Just Wanna Make Love To You Babe." The rhythm and the peaks of the sound are most evocative. Spikedrivers are an American/ British trio, who blend exceedingly well together and clearly enjoy performing together. All three are consummate musicians with their own inimitable vocal style. If you've never invested in any of their previous albums, then this would make an excellent start. |
[ Reviews | Track list & MP3s | Lyrics ]
[ Buy now! ]
Track List & MP3s
(MP3 samples in blue)
The Massey Ferguson Blues 3:51
You Don't Care 3:46
Garbage Man Blues 3:17
Where Did The Money Go?3:01
Oklahoma Stardust Blues 3:35
Too Much Trouble 2:54
Seven Little Words 4:12
Waitin' For The Wind 6:00
Layin' Down Lincolns 5:27
[ Reviews | Track list & MP3s | Lyrics ]
[ Buy now! ]
Lyrics
Blue
Trash
Lyrics & Music
by Ben Tyzack
Ben - lead vocals - baritone guitar (Lowden) harmonica
Constance - backing vocals - washboard
Maurice - Udu drum
You can take your trash from a trailer
You can take you trash to the street
You can take all your trash to the big city dump
mmm … but you can’t take it out of me
So let me be, who I am
Just a lonely boy from a little town near Birmingham
I got the Blues so bad, but the Blues don’t want me
I’m just a lonely boy who I am, let me be
They try and keep you in a little box
Then say they’ve lost the key
Well no box is strong enough for my imagination
No they can’t take that away from me
So let me be, left alone
Just a lonely boy from a southern town that was my home
I got the Blues so bad, but the Blues don’t want me
I’m just a lonely boy who I am, let me be
They say ‘Boy, you can’t play the blues’
Like they’re on some kind of throne
Well I ain’t tryin’ to play nobody else’s way
mmm… I just workin’ on my own
So let me be, with all my might
Just a lonely boy who moved around all his life
I got the blues……..so bad
And now they’ve got me
I’m just a lonely boy who I am, so let me be
Train Done Gone
Lyrics by Ben Tyzack, Music by Spikedrivers
Ben - lead vocals - baritone guitar (Lowden)
Constance -bass-washboard-backing vocals-bells
Maurice - drums - percussion-backing vocals-bells
Got me a ticket….oh yea
Got me a ticket….oh yea
Got me a ticket….oh yea
People keep a comin ’ but the train done gone…
I wake in the mornin’ and pray to the world I see
I wake in the mornin’ and pray to the world I see
If I keep on prayin’ will the lord have mercy on me
I stand at the station, hang my head and cry
I stand at the station, hang my head and cry
I keep on dreaming, the train passed me by
The
Massey Ferguson Blues
Music & lyrics by Ben Tyzack
Ben - lead vocals - baritone guitar (Lowden)
Constance - bass-harmonica
Maurice - drums - percussion
I used to ride through the fields,
under skies so blue
I used to ride through the fields,
under skies so blue
But now this old Massey tractor,
is just a runnin ’ on fumes
Well I need some a oil,
I need some gasoline
Well I need some a oil,
I need some gasoline
An’ if you pump up my tires,
I’ll roll ya ‘round like you ain’t never been
When my wheels stop a rollin’
and my engine’s cold
When my wheels stop a rollin’
and my engine’s cold
Well I’ll ride through the sky,
over fields of gold
You
Don't Care
Lyrics & Music by Constance Redgrave
Constance - lead vocals - bass
Ben - Gibson guitar
Maurice - drums
You don’t care
You don’t love me
You don’t care
Don’t think of me
Your don’t care
I cry all night long
In the morning
You’re still gone
You don’t care
You don’t love me
You don’t care
Don’t think of me
Your don’t care
When each days through
I sit in the dark
Thinkin’ of you
If I could forgive you
And put you away
Wake in the morning
To a brand new day
Not think about you
For hours at a time
Not waste my life
Wanting you to me be mine
You don’t love me
You just don’t care
You don’t love me
You’ll never be there
But I know that one-day
My tears will be through
I’ll just be sad
That I don’t love
Burning Through Time
Lyrics & music
by Ben Tyzack
Ben - lead vocals, baritone guitar, harmonica, bells
Constance - backing vocals - bass guitar - melodica
Maurice - Udu Drum- harmonica - bells
Every moment
Every moment
Every moment
Every moment
Every moment
Every moment
Every moment
Burning through time
It’s the same sun
Still the same sun
It’s the same sun
Still the same sun
There for ever
There for ever
There for ever
There for ever
Burning through time
Garbage
Man Blues
Lyrics & Music by Ben Tyzack
Ben - lead vocals - guitar (Hofner Commitee)
Constance - backing vocals - bass
Maurice - drums
In my life I’m king of the hill
Duke of the dump, saint of the swill
Remember this when you fill up your next can
Inside these overalls is just a man
Who sometimes wonders how this all came to be
But today I ’m a garbage man, that’s what I am
Bring out your bags and old boxes too
You’re glad to see them go
You’re glad you don’t have to know
That everybody needs me
But nobody loves me
That’s just the garbage man blues
I come by every week an’ pick up all of your muck
Then you shout names at me
When you’re stuck behind my truck
Bring out your bags and old boxes too
You’re glad to see them go
You’re glad you don’t have to know
That everybody needs me
But nobody loves me
That’s just the garbage man blues
Everybody knows what I do
Everybody knows who I am
But everybody turns away
Every time I come near
‘
Cause I’m just a sanitary engineer
Bring out your bags and old boxes too
You’re glad to see them go
You’re glad you don’t have to know
That everybody needs me
But nobody loves me
That’s just the garbage man …
backin’ down your street,….
knockin’ over your cans
Where
Did The Money Go?
Lyrics by Ben Tyzack & Maurice McElroy
Music by Spikedrivers
Maurice - lead vocals - washboard -triangle-drums
Constance - backing vocals - bass
Ben - guitar (Resonator)- backing vocals-harmonica
Champagne, cocaine, whisky and wine
Spent all my nickels, every last dime
Got to pay my bills, got to pay my rent
But I ain ’t got enough of those dead presidents
Tell me where did the money go? I don’t know
It just slipped through my hands
I used to be a playboy now I’m just a hard working man
I used to ride around in a big Cadillac
Snakeskin boots on my feet, rhinestones in my hat
Women crowd around me saying daddy you sure is sweet
Now they see me coming they all run across the street
Tel me where did the money go? I don’t know
It just slipped through my hands
I used to be a playboy now I’m just a hard working man
I used to be a winner, I used to have it all
Now my nose is to the grindstone and my back’s against the wall
They say you can’t take it with you, that’s one thing for sure
But you just watch me try if I ever get some more
Champagne, cocaine, whisky and wine
Spent all my nickels, every last dime
Got to pay my bills, got to pay my rent
But I ain’t got enough of those dead presidents
Tell me where did the money go? I don’t know
It just slipped through my hands
I used to be a playboy now I’m just a hard working man
Oklahoma Stardust Blues
Lyrics by Ben Tyzack and Katie Dalhstrom
Music by Ben Tyzack
Ben - lead vocals - guitar (Hofner Commitee)
Constance - backing vocals -bass
Maurice - drums
I dream about a sky, midnight-blue and clear
I dream about a sky, midnight-blue and clear
But this dust keeps blowin ’, blowin’ me away from here
I hate to leave, but leavin’s all I can do
I hate to leave, but leavin’s all I can do
And I’ll travel through my Oklahoma Stardust Blues
Some day soon, I’ll go back an’ settle down
Some day soon, I’ll go back an’ settle down
And that’s when I’ll loose my Oklahoma Stardust Blues
Junk
Mail Blues
Lyrics by Maurice McElroy -Music by Spikedrivers
Maurice - lead vocals - drums - percussion
Ben - guitar (Resonator) - backing vocals - harmonica
Constance - bass - backing vocals
Well I woke up this morning
And I figured it was time
To buy me a computer
And get my ass on line
Get me one of them email deals
I wouldn't have a care
Communicate with all my friends
Any time, anywhere
Now I got junk mail
got the junk mail blues
A whole bunch of people I ain't never met
All tryin' to tell me what to do
I can go see sexy Suzy
And she'll put on a show
I can get me one of them college degrees
I don't even have to go
I should buy this special ointment
If my houndog gets the mange
I could hire a crooked lawyer
But then some things never change
I got junk mail
got the junk mail blues
A whole bunch of people I ain't never met
All tryin' to tell me what to do
When I'm with my baby
She makes me feel so tall
So how come all those people
Think my sugar cane's so small
I could send off for some purple pills
to keep me up all night
Subscribe to a adult magazine
To make sure I do it right
Too Much Trouble
Lyrics & Music by Ben Tyzack
Ben - lead vocals - guitar (Gibson)
Constance - backing vocals - bass
Maurice - backing vocals - drums
Too much trouble, walking all the way to your door
Too much trouble, walking all the way to your door
Slam it in my face but I keep coming back for more
Too much trouble, just to get a kick in the head
Too much trouble, just to get a kick in the head
She got big boots on I’m lucky I aint dead
But I don’t care if the morning sun don’t shine
But I don’t care if the morning sun don’t shine
Too much trouble someday you’ll be mine
And I Sing, Hey ey Hey don’t you see
And I Sing, Hey ey Hey don’t you see
How too much trouble made a fool of me
Too much trouble, just to get a slap in the face
Too much trouble, just to get a slap in the face
She’s got great big hands, to keep me in my place
But I don’t care if the morning sun don’t shine
But I don’t care if the morning sun don’t shine
Too much trouble someday you’ll be mine
And I Sing, Hey ey Hey don’t you see
And I Sing, Hey ey Hey don’t you see
How too much trouble made a fool of me
But I don’t care if the morning sun don’t shine
But I don’t care if the morning sun don’t shine
Too much trouble someday you’ll be mine
And I Sing, Hey ey Hey don’t you see
And I Sing, Hey ey Hey don’t you see
How too much trouble made a fool of me
Seven
Little Words
Music and Lyrics by Ben Tyzack
Ben - lead vocal - guitar(Hofner Committe)
Constance - bass - backing vocals
Maurice - drums
My K.T. Lou, love me all the time
My K.T. Lou, love me all the time
Some times she likes to tease me,
All women love to drive men wild
My K.T. Lou, loves me all the way
My K.T. Lou, loves me all the way
Makes me weak in the knees,
Every time I hear her say
Chorus
I wanna make love to you, babe
I wanna make love to you
Nice and slow, oh so slow
Don’t need to hurry, love me baby don’t go
When my baby’s gone,
I’m all alone, heaven knows it hurts
But I know it won’t be long,
‘
til I hear those seven little words
I wanna make love to you, babe
I wanna make love to you
Nice and slow, oh so slow
Don’t need to hurry, Love me baby don’t go
My K.T. Lou, love me all the time
My K.T. Lou, love me all the time
Some times she likes to tease me,
My K.T. Louise
Grampa Was A Moonshiner
Lyrics by Constance
Redgrave - Music by Spikedrivers
Constance - lead vocals - washboard - percussion
Ben - backing vocals - baritone guitar (Lowden) - harmonica
Maurice - drums - percussion
Grampa was a moonshiner
Played rub board with the band
And Grandma was an Indian
Ran her house with an iron hand
And all the little babies
Grew up redneck as a snake
The Grapes of Wrath
Was an evil path
Made of get what you can take
Don’t get angry, just get gone
Don’t get even, get along
Till the good Lord rights the wrong
Dust yourself off and walk on.
They got dusk and they got hungry
And a dirt floor shack for seven
The preacher lost his battle for
That place he called heaven
And all the little babies
Dreamed in angry shades of red
Played the devils tune,
Howling at the moon
Woke up mean as a copperhead.
Don’t get angry, just get gone
Don’t get even, get along
Till the good Lord rights the wrong
Dust yourself off and walk on.
Grampa was a moonshiner
Till Grandma said he was through
Meet ol’ Bob at the door with a shotgun
Weren’t much those boys could do
And all the little babies
Rung their momma everyday
Danced their lives in pain
Raised their kids insane
The American way.
Don’t get angry, just get gone
Don’t get even, get along
Till the good Lord rights the wrong
Dust yourself off and walk on.
Waitin' For The Wind
Lyrics & Music
by Ben Tyzack
Ben - lead vocals - baritone guitar (Lowden)
Midwest skies hang above, big and bruised they wait
Twisters drop from pregnant clouds, and crops lay down to waste
I headed down to old Jacob’s farm,where I learned so many years
ago
Nature can give but she always wins,
Now the paint peeled shutters rattle in the wind
No work here, nothin’ to reap
No work here, only dust at my feet
So pack your bags and set your pace
And wait for the wind…to blow a little luck your way
Across the state my belt moves a notch,
To the Missouri river and Omaha docks
Empty crates scattered through a yard
Just two men with a bottle, suicide king on the cards
No work here, no grain to send
No work here, ain’t no ships coming in
So pack your bags and set your pace
And wait for the wind…to blow a little luck your way
I headed west no where to go, then on down south to Mexico
Temptation’s strong to play the border game
First time luck, second time chains
If you work hard out on the line,
If you work hard, it’ll turn the time
So keep a steady hand and set your pace
And wait for the wind…to blow a little luck your way
Southwest skies high above, big and blue they wait
Running under with a fire in my chest
Through the weeds I tumble, no time to rest
No work here, nothin’ to do
No work for a man like you
So pack your bags and set your pace
And wait for the wind…to blow a little luck your way
Layin' Down Lincolns
Lyrics & Music by Ben Tyzack
Ben - - lead vocals - baritone guitar (Lowden)
Constance - backing vocals - washboard
Maurice - backing vocals - cajon
Take a penny make a wish, lay it on the track
Take a penny make a wish, lay it on the track
When a freight train comes, bring good luck back
If it stays on the line, wishes all come true
If it stays on the line, wishes all come true
But if it falls by the side, devils after you
Layin’ down Lincolns, on the railroad line
Layin’ down Lincolns, on the railroad line
How you risk your life, just to pass the time
Take a penny make a wish, lay it on the track
Take a penny make a wish, lay it on the track
When a freight train comes, bring good luck back
[ Reviews | Track list & MP3s | Lyrics ]
[ Buy now! ]
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