Pop psychology meets a Memphis-based power trio
I am no fan of pop psychology. Live long enough and you will not only see the rise and fall of trends in that “field,” you will also begin to notice the resurgence and recycling of ideas that are either long since debunked or, at best, done to death and not especially revelatory.
For all that, I recently read a blog that, in parts, resonated with me. To a degree it was one of those, “Why stuff isn’t making you happy,” observations (somewhere in a Lascaux cave is a painting that translates to, “Thag have fire and meat, why Thag not happy?”) but there were a few points made that were new (to me, anyway.)
One of the main thrusts had to do with the complications of instant gratification and the speed of things.
Like the author, I grew up at a time when ordering something by mail meant you had to wait six to eight weeks for delivery. Today, with the click of a button, you can have what you want tomorrow or, sometimes, later on that same day.
We occasionally bemoan the plight of folks working in foreign sweatshops to make our things; lately we’ve become more vocal about the plight of folks in de facto domestic sweatshops who handle and ship our things, but at the end of the day we still want our things cheaply and quickly and if it’s supposed to be here Wednesday evening and doesn’t arrive until Thursday morning, there will be hell to pay.
The dichotomy between wanting to be decent, considerate people who care about each other and entitled little buttholes who want more, more, more, now, now, now, plays hell on a person’s psyche.All this was floating around in my head when I say down to listen to the newly released single from The Dirty Streets, a Memphis-based power trio that alchemizes gutsy raw blows into blistering, guitar-driven rock music.
The band has been around for a while, road-dogging it, paying dues, releasing albums and LPs, and whatever material they started out as, today there are highly polished, razor honed steel.
The single, “Distractions,” is the title track of an upcoming new LP (their fifth) scheduled for release on September 14th.
At first listen, the track is exactly what I’ve described so far; hard edged, thumping guitar music with licks and vocals reminiscent of Gregg Allman circa “Whipping Post.” It is powerful stuff and whether you call it Swamp Boogie, blues, rock, or half a dozen other labels that approximate the sound, it is ultimately a cauldron of primordial emotion from which musical magic emerges.
If that were the end of the story, that would be good enough, but there’s more here than meets the eye, because the song itself is bit of biting social commentary on the prevalence of sensory overload and the bludgeoning speed with which it is delivered every second of every day.
It is music with a message, and while my general advice regarding “message music” is “don’t do it,” the subject matter here is delivered so deftly that the message is only there for people who care to hear it. You could just as easily crank it up, bang your head, drive too fast, drink too much at the party and scream “Whoooo!” if that’s your thing, but there’s so much more there.
Another dichotomy—this one of pulse-pounding jam and subtle, poignant, timely critique—is one I can get behind and speaks to the talent of a band with enough experience to speak deeply on a subject without beating the listener over the head with it. In a word, here is a hard-rocking band with a sublime mastery of lyrics and THAT is all too rare.
The single is available now, the LP debuts September 14th, and Dirty Streets, simply put, is a band that delivers on all levels.