A celebration of Warts, These Guys and Apple Pie
A little over a year I wrote about the band Iron Fez for the first time, a move that caught the fellows by surprise as they were on hiatus at the time. That didn’t matter; their tunes were so infectiously fun, people needed to know about them.
That’s how a band that wasn’t gigging or recording, a band I wasn’t altogether sure was still a band, got a full page feature in The Pulse.
It was some of the most fun I’ve had writing a piece and today, I get to do it again, only this time for a band that is definitely still together, gigging and recording. In fact, they’ve released an album this year, a glorious collection of old favorites and new material, all recorded live, raw and ready for human consumption.
Fair warning, per Kan Munson: most of these songs are “Not Safe For Work”, although I think that’s relative. I mean, maybe you work in a brothel. Or a prison.
Kidding aside, the band makes use of “colorful metaphors” but not gratuitously or in any way that doesn’t suit the tone of the music. If anything, it lends the band “realness” too many others lack.
In a word, Iron Fez is irreverent and nothing appeals to this little black duck so much as clever, irreverent humor.
“Rossville”, an anthem describing the joys of living in that fair city to the south, is a prime example of that. If, like me, you’ve spent some time there, I defy you to hear the tune and not laugh out loud, nodding and muttering, “Yep, that’s Rossville all right.”
Granted, they may not be receiving a plaque from the Chamber of Commerce any time soon, but I think they deserve one for capturing the experience so well. Like all of the band’s work, the music could stand on its own instrumentally as a raucous, foot-stomping, ass-whompin’ bluegrassy affair, but the words are the cherry on top.
On the other hand, you have a track like “Coalminer”, a bluesy-psychedelic song that comes off as a loving pastiche of good ol’ southern rock.
For the record, I don’t know that I would ever use the words “southern rock” to describe the band, but if this were the only tune of theirs you heard, I doubt anyone could convince you they were anything but. It certainly isn’t a parody, but I come away with the impression that the band thought, “Hell, let’s give one of these a try.” And they knocked it out of the park.
I’ll round out today’s review with “You’re Just Too Much”. The “bad relationship lament” is a pretty standard trope in music, but the Iron Fez perspective is, again, one that will leave you laughing while thinking, “Yeah, that pretty much sums it up.”
It’s a bit like Guns ‘N Roses’ “I Used to Love Her”, only good. And if I had a nickel for every time I’ve found myself in the situation they describe, I put them in a sock and beat myself senseless if it ever looked like I was headed down that road again.
I don’t want to repeat too much of what I had to say the first time around writing about Iron Fez, but what’s true is true and the truth is that these guys take a formidable array of musical talent and, rather than devolving in to the pretentious wanks so many other very talented musicians seem to, they use their powers for good, skewering life with an eye for humor, sarcasm and satire.
That combination makes this band an absolute joy to write to about and to listen to, a refreshing approach that puts them in a class by themselves.
The album is Warts, These Guys and Apple Pie and it is available via CD Baby right now. At fifteen tracks you certainly get bang for your buck.
And at the end of the day, a band that can make you laugh while deftly addressing the trials and tribulations of everyday life is worth its weight in gold.