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https://thedailyripple.org/index.php/art-music/reviews-grant-britt 2025-03-31T20:11:22+00:00 The Daily Ripple Joomla! - Open Source Content Management 2023-04-21T13:53:45+00:00 2023-04-21T13:53:45+00:00 https://thedailyripple.org/index.php/art-music/cart-reviews-grant-britt/81-music-review-murder-of-songs-by-grant-peeples-gb Terry Ryan

March 2023      In the 1953 movie The Wild One, Marlon Brando portrays a surly biker gang leader whose scruffy minions invade and terrorize a small town. When asked by a local girl what he's rebelling against, Brando snarls “Whaddya got?” For his latest outing, A Murder of Songs, Grant Peeples has a long list of grievances he's rebelling against. The murder reference apparently refers to the proper name for flock of crows, as depicted on the cover. But Peeples protest song collection here is aptly named. He doesn't sugar coat his message, or drape peace and love sentiments over his calls for change. “Don’t let the circle be unbroken, don’t let the sunshine in/Who gives a damn where all the flowers have gone/The answers aren’t blowing in the wind,” he declares on his original, “Lets Start Killing Each Other.” In the opening lines he admits that back in '75 he had hope for the cultural divide “when I saw hippies and rednecks dance side-by-side At Willie Nelson’s Texan 4th of July.” But now things have gotten to the point that the general solution seems to be “whip out a switchblade/ pullout a gun/Pistol whip some sumbitch just for fun/And don’t stop dealing till the dealing’s done/Till we start killing each other.” Peeples sounds like Willie on Mark Knopfler's “Brothers In Arms, a song he says was informed by the Falkland War. Peeples admits he'd been smitten with it since he heard first heard it in 1985, delivering a stripped down version just as moving as Knopfler's original, with the chilling message still relevant today: “Every man, he has to die/But it's written in the starlight and every line there in your palm/That we’re fools to make war on our brothers in arms.” The rest of the nine cut are all originals, collated over a two year period in 2020 through 2021, some written before November 2016, when he alleges America “either changed or just revealed how and what it had always been.” “Insurrection Song (January 6)” sounds like an Irish jig, but there's nothing good to celebrate here: “Freedom’s just another word for all we have to lose/Let the sonsabitches rot in jail for what they tried to do.” On “Liberals with Guns,” Peeples issues a dire warning to jackboot-clad, saber-rattling insurrectionists who think brandishing firearms is the answer: “I know they’re locked and loaded, but they ain’t the only ones/They better look out though cause there’s liberals, and they too got guns.” It ain't easy listening music, but it sure as hell gets its point across, a kill shot right between the ears.       Grant Britt (Gbritt1@triad.rr.com) has been writing about music since the earth cooled a while back. A staff writer for No Depression, his work also appears in BluesMusic Mag and the Greensboro News and Record.    To Read All of Grant B's Reviews, Click Here          

March 2023      In the 1953 movie The Wild One, Marlon Brando portrays a surly biker gang leader whose scruffy minions invade and terrorize a small town. When asked by a local girl what he's rebelling against, Brando snarls “Whaddya got?” For his latest outing, A Murder of Songs, Grant Peeples has a long list of grievances he's rebelling against. The murder reference apparently refers to the proper name for flock of crows, as depicted on the cover. But Peeples protest song collection here is aptly named. He doesn't sugar coat his message, or drape peace and love sentiments over his calls for change. “Don’t let the circle be unbroken, don’t let the sunshine in/Who gives a damn where all the flowers have gone/The answers aren’t blowing in the wind,” he declares on his original, “Lets Start Killing Each Other.” In the opening lines he admits that back in '75 he had hope for the cultural divide “when I saw hippies and rednecks dance side-by-side At Willie Nelson’s Texan 4th of July.” But now things have gotten to the point that the general solution seems to be “whip out a switchblade/ pullout a gun/Pistol whip some sumbitch just for fun/And don’t stop dealing till the dealing’s done/Till we start killing each other.” Peeples sounds like Willie on Mark Knopfler's “Brothers In Arms, a song he says was informed by the Falkland War. Peeples admits he'd been smitten with it since he heard first heard it in 1985, delivering a stripped down version just as moving as Knopfler's original, with the chilling message still relevant today: “Every man, he has to die/But it's written in the starlight and every line there in your palm/That we’re fools to make war on our brothers in arms.” The rest of the nine cut are all originals, collated over a two year period in 2020 through 2021, some written before November 2016, when he alleges America “either changed or just revealed how and what it had always been.” “Insurrection Song (January 6)” sounds like an Irish jig, but there's nothing good to celebrate here: “Freedom’s just another word for all we have to lose/Let the sonsabitches rot in jail for what they tried to do.” On “Liberals with Guns,” Peeples issues a dire warning to jackboot-clad, saber-rattling insurrectionists who think brandishing firearms is the answer: “I know they’re locked and loaded, but they ain’t the only ones/They better look out though cause there’s liberals, and they too got guns.” It ain't easy listening music, but it sure as hell gets its point across, a kill shot right between the ears.       Grant Britt (Gbritt1@triad.rr.com) has been writing about music since the earth cooled a while back. A staff writer for No Depression, his work also appears in BluesMusic Mag and the Greensboro News and Record.    To Read All of Grant B's Reviews, Click Here           2023-09-12T13:55:19+00:00 2023-09-12T13:55:19+00:00 https://thedailyripple.org/index.php/art-music/cart-reviews-grant-britt/82-music-review-rhododendron-highway-by-brook-dixon-gb Terry Ryan

12 September 2023     Brooks Dixon has a song for every occasion. In his various personas, he can accommodate most any mood or situation. In wedding band mode, he can cover five decades of musical nostalgia in song. And if he doesn't know the one you want for your “I do” day, he'll learn it for you. Stepping into his singer/songwriter suit, Dixon serenades a loyal Americana fan base with his country-tinged offerings. On his latest release, Rhododendron Highway, Dixon serves up a diverse platter of folky/country entrees.   “Charleston” channels Willie and the family band with Mickey Rapheal style harp and a gospel pianoreminiscent of sister Bobbie. “Strangers Bed” sounds like John Prine trying to decide if his backing band should be a bluegrass group with a mandolin tinkling softly in the background or a window- rattling honky-tonk outfit fortified by weepy pedal steel, deciding about halfway thorough the cut to go full out honky-tonkin,' whipping himself into a sweaty lather before reigning it in to go back to a folky/bluegrass fusion finish.. “Would You Say Yes” sounds like something that Dixon would offer wedding clients at a rehearsaldinner to warm up the crowd for the upcoming nuptials, a soft ballad that kinda takes the long way aroundinto the whole popping the question thing: “Would you say yes if I gave you this ring?”“Rolling Stone” is not the Muddy vehicle, but a ride in the country emphasizing the values of a stay athome romance. Dixon insists that he's not a rolling stone, “ Not even close/When life gets hard/ I find mypeace at home.” “Married in the Mountains” is the closest Dixon gets to incorporating the album's title in this offeringwhich has a Jacob Dylan Wallflowers feel and could be yet another crossover vehicle suitable for hiswedding biz or his serenading side. Dixon's pitch is to get married in the mountains in the Carolina spring,walking along the rhododendron highway with his beloved by his side: “ Just us two/We don't need afancy wedding/Cause all I need is you.” Dixon's got all the bases covered here, plenty of original tunes suitable for easy listening or doingsomething permanent about your romantic situation.     Grant Britt (Gbritt1@triad.rr.com) has been writing about music since the earth cooled a while back. A staff writer for No Depression, his work also appears in BluesMusic Mag and the Greensboro News and Record.    To Read All of Grant B's Reviews, Click Here  

12 September 2023     Brooks Dixon has a song for every occasion. In his various personas, he can accommodate most any mood or situation. In wedding band mode, he can cover five decades of musical nostalgia in song. And if he doesn't know the one you want for your “I do” day, he'll learn it for you. Stepping into his singer/songwriter suit, Dixon serenades a loyal Americana fan base with his country-tinged offerings. On his latest release, Rhododendron Highway, Dixon serves up a diverse platter of folky/country entrees.   “Charleston” channels Willie and the family band with Mickey Rapheal style harp and a gospel pianoreminiscent of sister Bobbie. “Strangers Bed” sounds like John Prine trying to decide if his backing band should be a bluegrass group with a mandolin tinkling softly in the background or a window- rattling honky-tonk outfit fortified by weepy pedal steel, deciding about halfway thorough the cut to go full out honky-tonkin,' whipping himself into a sweaty lather before reigning it in to go back to a folky/bluegrass fusion finish.. “Would You Say Yes” sounds like something that Dixon would offer wedding clients at a rehearsaldinner to warm up the crowd for the upcoming nuptials, a soft ballad that kinda takes the long way aroundinto the whole popping the question thing: “Would you say yes if I gave you this ring?”“Rolling Stone” is not the Muddy vehicle, but a ride in the country emphasizing the values of a stay athome romance. Dixon insists that he's not a rolling stone, “ Not even close/When life gets hard/ I find mypeace at home.” “Married in the Mountains” is the closest Dixon gets to incorporating the album's title in this offeringwhich has a Jacob Dylan Wallflowers feel and could be yet another crossover vehicle suitable for hiswedding biz or his serenading side. Dixon's pitch is to get married in the mountains in the Carolina spring,walking along the rhododendron highway with his beloved by his side: “ Just us two/We don't need afancy wedding/Cause all I need is you.” Dixon's got all the bases covered here, plenty of original tunes suitable for easy listening or doingsomething permanent about your romantic situation.     Grant Britt (Gbritt1@triad.rr.com) has been writing about music since the earth cooled a while back. A staff writer for No Depression, his work also appears in BluesMusic Mag and the Greensboro News and Record.    To Read All of Grant B's Reviews, Click Here   2023-09-15T19:43:18+00:00 2023-09-15T19:43:18+00:00 https://thedailyripple.org/index.php/art-music/cart-reviews-grant-britt/121-music-review-i-just-cant-call-it-quits-by-patterson-barrett-gb Terry Ryan

23 June 2023   Patterson Barrett is a survivor. His latest release, "I Just Can't Call It Quits", refers to his longevity in the music biz as well as his personal battle with cancer. Even though it cost the singer/songwriter/ multi-instrumentalist a kidney last year, Patterson has recovered and is back making music in his adopted Austin home town. Aided by famous former bandmates Buddy and Julie Miller, from the now defunct group Partners In Crime he founded in the mid-seventies, Barrett lays down a sound heavily influenced by Poco and the Flying Burrito Brothers with some Jerry Jeff Walker sprinkled in as well as some Sam and Dave soul licks. The Millers chime in on their original, “I'm Pretending,” sounding like a classic country hit from the '50s, blending George Jones and Buck Owens with plenty of guitar twang and cry-in-your-beer fiddle. Barrett is a one-man band for most of the sound on the record, contributing acoustic guitar, pedal steel, piano, bass, drums, and vocals on this one, aided by Miller on harmony vocals with Cam King on electric guitar and Gene Elders on fiddle. Sam and Dave's '67 classic “Soul Man” is virtually unrecognizable, turned into a twangy shuffle, cowboy soul that sounds like it borrowed the melodic framework of Eric Clapton's laid back '77 hit “Lay Down Sally,” with a vocal that sounds like Clapton and Jerry Jeff stirred up in a blender. Patterson leaves original “Soul Man” guitarist Steve Cropper's signature lick intact in the bridge, but otherwise lopes along lazily down a country road. Patterson's Neil Young infatuation is evident on the title cut, but he takes Young a bit farther into the country corral with his yodeling and weepy pedal steel. Even though it's a secular tune about matters of the heart, “Longing For Sun” has a country gospel feel like a Burrito Brothers spiritual with Emmy Lee soundalike Jaimee Harris on harmony vocals. Trying to pigeonhole Patterson is a daunting task. He doesn't roost anywhere long enough to get a leash on him, heading out into wherever the wind takes him. But his flights are always worth tracking, a unique glidepath to marvel at and follow closely.     Grant Britt (Gbritt1@triad.rr.com) has been writing about music since the earth cooled a while back. A staff writer for No Depression, his work also appears in BluesMusic Mag and the Greensboro News and Record.    To Read All of Grant B's Reviews, Click Here    

23 June 2023   Patterson Barrett is a survivor. His latest release, "I Just Can't Call It Quits", refers to his longevity in the music biz as well as his personal battle with cancer. Even though it cost the singer/songwriter/ multi-instrumentalist a kidney last year, Patterson has recovered and is back making music in his adopted Austin home town. Aided by famous former bandmates Buddy and Julie Miller, from the now defunct group Partners In Crime he founded in the mid-seventies, Barrett lays down a sound heavily influenced by Poco and the Flying Burrito Brothers with some Jerry Jeff Walker sprinkled in as well as some Sam and Dave soul licks. The Millers chime in on their original, “I'm Pretending,” sounding like a classic country hit from the '50s, blending George Jones and Buck Owens with plenty of guitar twang and cry-in-your-beer fiddle. Barrett is a one-man band for most of the sound on the record, contributing acoustic guitar, pedal steel, piano, bass, drums, and vocals on this one, aided by Miller on harmony vocals with Cam King on electric guitar and Gene Elders on fiddle. Sam and Dave's '67 classic “Soul Man” is virtually unrecognizable, turned into a twangy shuffle, cowboy soul that sounds like it borrowed the melodic framework of Eric Clapton's laid back '77 hit “Lay Down Sally,” with a vocal that sounds like Clapton and Jerry Jeff stirred up in a blender. Patterson leaves original “Soul Man” guitarist Steve Cropper's signature lick intact in the bridge, but otherwise lopes along lazily down a country road. Patterson's Neil Young infatuation is evident on the title cut, but he takes Young a bit farther into the country corral with his yodeling and weepy pedal steel. Even though it's a secular tune about matters of the heart, “Longing For Sun” has a country gospel feel like a Burrito Brothers spiritual with Emmy Lee soundalike Jaimee Harris on harmony vocals. Trying to pigeonhole Patterson is a daunting task. He doesn't roost anywhere long enough to get a leash on him, heading out into wherever the wind takes him. But his flights are always worth tracking, a unique glidepath to marvel at and follow closely.     Grant Britt (Gbritt1@triad.rr.com) has been writing about music since the earth cooled a while back. A staff writer for No Depression, his work also appears in BluesMusic Mag and the Greensboro News and Record.    To Read All of Grant B's Reviews, Click Here     2024-08-11T19:43:18+00:00 2024-08-11T19:43:18+00:00 https://thedailyripple.org/index.php/art-music/cart-reviews-grant-britt/128-music-review-sparrow-by-jeff-talmadge-gb Terry Ryan

August 9 2024   John Prine's essence is oozing out all over Jeff Talmadge, coating him with a Priney sheen that won'twash off. It's pretty stuff, with the same ability Prine had to write three minute novels that said as much in one sentence as most writers take a book to get out. Little gems glitter among Talmadge's trunk-full of treasures. On the title cut, Talmadge opines that “You can always tell a young man/But I guess it's true you just can't tell him much.” A former attorney in Austin, Texas, Talmadge retired from judicial matters in '03 to pursue a songwriting and poetry career in Atlanta, later moving back to Austin, where he resides today. ButTalmadge's work doesn't have a Texas brand burned into it. It could be from anywhere, a roamer's journey from the flatlands to the high ground, suffering from road burn, heartache, and general malaise learning as he goes, looking back with a few regrets with the common sense to know a do-over would have the same results. Talmadge lacks Prine's nasal twang, opting for a more mellow delivery, but his songs are as a poignant as Prine's, zeroing in on the lives of everyday folks getting a few moments of glory shone on them. “Maybe Next Year” is the haunting portrait of an old man looking in the mirror and wondering where his youth has gone: “He wonders how long this lucky old fool can keep on winning this wonderful game.” But still he keeps on going, year after year: “We never wonder if wishes come true/ We just keep wishing with all our might/And every year we say, maybe next year.” “Katie's Got A Locket” is the twangiest of the bunch, with a bucket-load of sorrowful dobro from multi- instrumentalist J. David Leonard, who contributes a plethora of percussive sounds throughout the project, pitching in with various and sundry musical emanations from lap steel to cello to cardboard box. “Hurricane” and “Little Speck of Dust” chronicle how insignificant humans are when nature drops by for a breezy visit, leaving muddy wind-blasted mortals in its wake with little left of their belongings but wet clothes in the trees. Like Prine's offerings, Talmadge's images linger on long after the music stops, a master class in poetry set to music. Grant Britt (Gbritt1@triad.rr.com) has been writing about music since the earth cooled a while back. A staff writer for No Depression, his work also appears in BluesMusic Mag and the Greensboro News and Record.    To Read All of Grant B's Reviews, Click Here    

August 9 2024   John Prine's essence is oozing out all over Jeff Talmadge, coating him with a Priney sheen that won'twash off. It's pretty stuff, with the same ability Prine had to write three minute novels that said as much in one sentence as most writers take a book to get out. Little gems glitter among Talmadge's trunk-full of treasures. On the title cut, Talmadge opines that “You can always tell a young man/But I guess it's true you just can't tell him much.” A former attorney in Austin, Texas, Talmadge retired from judicial matters in '03 to pursue a songwriting and poetry career in Atlanta, later moving back to Austin, where he resides today. ButTalmadge's work doesn't have a Texas brand burned into it. It could be from anywhere, a roamer's journey from the flatlands to the high ground, suffering from road burn, heartache, and general malaise learning as he goes, looking back with a few regrets with the common sense to know a do-over would have the same results. Talmadge lacks Prine's nasal twang, opting for a more mellow delivery, but his songs are as a poignant as Prine's, zeroing in on the lives of everyday folks getting a few moments of glory shone on them. “Maybe Next Year” is the haunting portrait of an old man looking in the mirror and wondering where his youth has gone: “He wonders how long this lucky old fool can keep on winning this wonderful game.” But still he keeps on going, year after year: “We never wonder if wishes come true/ We just keep wishing with all our might/And every year we say, maybe next year.” “Katie's Got A Locket” is the twangiest of the bunch, with a bucket-load of sorrowful dobro from multi- instrumentalist J. David Leonard, who contributes a plethora of percussive sounds throughout the project, pitching in with various and sundry musical emanations from lap steel to cello to cardboard box. “Hurricane” and “Little Speck of Dust” chronicle how insignificant humans are when nature drops by for a breezy visit, leaving muddy wind-blasted mortals in its wake with little left of their belongings but wet clothes in the trees. Like Prine's offerings, Talmadge's images linger on long after the music stops, a master class in poetry set to music. Grant Britt (Gbritt1@triad.rr.com) has been writing about music since the earth cooled a while back. A staff writer for No Depression, his work also appears in BluesMusic Mag and the Greensboro News and Record.    To Read All of Grant B's Reviews, Click Here     2024-09-11T19:43:18+00:00 2024-09-11T19:43:18+00:00 https://thedailyripple.org/index.php/art-music/cart-reviews-grant-britt/139-music-review-marfa-lights-by-marfa-lights-gb Terry Ryan

September 11 2024   This one's a real trip. Taking their name from the once mysterious Marfa Lights, a so-calledphenomenon once believed to be some kind of extraterrestrial astral projection manifested as floatingballs of fire over the rural Texas landscape, a mysterious band of space cadets hovers over the area in a UFO delivering musical messages they have gleaned from the earthly inhabitants below. For their earthly debut, the aliens chose human names- Brian, Daniel, Shawn and Mark. The content is a jumble of styles and genres, but it doesn't really sound otherworldly. It's more of a laid-back country-folk vibe, like the Byrds sampling everything that comes across on the radio on a languid, cross-border trip from Colorado to Texas to Mexico.The aliens set the tone with the description of the vehicle their earthly Gen X protagonist will be using:a 1970 Ford Ranchero Squire, fire engine red,wood panel, with an 8 track cassette sound system, and a 351 Cleveland V-8 power plant, “one bitchin' ride.” The spoken word description segues into “Heart Like a Bruise,” a Tex-Mex offering that reeks of Doug Sahm's The Sir Douglas Quintet with a bevy ofMariachi horns tossed in for good measure as the space cadets lay out their travel plans: “Miles to go and no reasons why/ Nothing to leave but the sweetest goodbyes.” The aliens must have cruised over Brazil at some point picking up a Bossa nova beat for “The Wolf.”“8 Track Cadillac” sounds like Steve Forbert with some mariachi horns and a swirly dreamscape background. The instrumental “Fiesta De Mescal” sounds like the boys crossed the border on the Day of the Dead, a sinister organ figure the only commentary, like the soundtrack from a vintage Vincent Price horror movie. “Cumbia Magdalena” sounds like the group got heavily into the spirit(s) of the Fiesta De Mescal, the vocals blurry as the melody staggers by concentrating on putting one foot in front of the other tocontinue the journey. The original Marfa Lights were debunked as nothing more than reflections of headlights of carspassing on nearby highways, a superior mirage causing distant objects to appear to hover in mid air. Likeits namesake, this one is a mirage as well, a shimmering reflection of earthly emotions projected on acosmic screen to marvel and entertain. Grant Britt (Gbritt1@triad.rr.com) has been writing about music since the earth cooled a while back. A staff writer for No Depression, his work also appears in BluesMusic Mag and the Greensboro News and Record.    To Read All of Grant B's Reviews, Click Here    

September 11 2024   This one's a real trip. Taking their name from the once mysterious Marfa Lights, a so-calledphenomenon once believed to be some kind of extraterrestrial astral projection manifested as floatingballs of fire over the rural Texas landscape, a mysterious band of space cadets hovers over the area in a UFO delivering musical messages they have gleaned from the earthly inhabitants below. For their earthly debut, the aliens chose human names- Brian, Daniel, Shawn and Mark. The content is a jumble of styles and genres, but it doesn't really sound otherworldly. It's more of a laid-back country-folk vibe, like the Byrds sampling everything that comes across on the radio on a languid, cross-border trip from Colorado to Texas to Mexico.The aliens set the tone with the description of the vehicle their earthly Gen X protagonist will be using:a 1970 Ford Ranchero Squire, fire engine red,wood panel, with an 8 track cassette sound system, and a 351 Cleveland V-8 power plant, “one bitchin' ride.” The spoken word description segues into “Heart Like a Bruise,” a Tex-Mex offering that reeks of Doug Sahm's The Sir Douglas Quintet with a bevy ofMariachi horns tossed in for good measure as the space cadets lay out their travel plans: “Miles to go and no reasons why/ Nothing to leave but the sweetest goodbyes.” The aliens must have cruised over Brazil at some point picking up a Bossa nova beat for “The Wolf.”“8 Track Cadillac” sounds like Steve Forbert with some mariachi horns and a swirly dreamscape background. The instrumental “Fiesta De Mescal” sounds like the boys crossed the border on the Day of the Dead, a sinister organ figure the only commentary, like the soundtrack from a vintage Vincent Price horror movie. “Cumbia Magdalena” sounds like the group got heavily into the spirit(s) of the Fiesta De Mescal, the vocals blurry as the melody staggers by concentrating on putting one foot in front of the other tocontinue the journey. The original Marfa Lights were debunked as nothing more than reflections of headlights of carspassing on nearby highways, a superior mirage causing distant objects to appear to hover in mid air. Likeits namesake, this one is a mirage as well, a shimmering reflection of earthly emotions projected on acosmic screen to marvel and entertain. Grant Britt (Gbritt1@triad.rr.com) has been writing about music since the earth cooled a while back. A staff writer for No Depression, his work also appears in BluesMusic Mag and the Greensboro News and Record.    To Read All of Grant B's Reviews, Click Here