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The Kent Boys

Atticus Finch

Review Date: 2007-05-16

Atticus Finch opens with a cautionary tale about greed and material lust called “Dust Bowl”. The final line of the opening number asks us to choose between “livin’ for money or livin’ for life.” And as pastoral and precious as this notion may be, it is the driving force behind The Kent Boys’ roots/rock revival. What if a band made such a powerful effort to eschew the popular musical conventions of the day, they actually rocked their way back in time? Great Scott!

The Kent Boys are, predominantly, a bluegrass revival band. And that is a tough thing to be nowadays. A back-to-basics revival band is not unheard of; but the problem with bluegrass is that the ship has landed, sailed, landed, and sailed away again. Many of you may recall the generous reception the rootsy soundtrack for the Coen Bros. O Brother, Where Art Thou? received. That was just over six years ago. And before that, there was the bluegrass revival of the sixties/seventies – adjunct to the folk renaissance, you may have heard of Bob Dylan? Now you gotta do what you gotta do, when you’re an artist. But it takes balls to weather the wake of a recent revival, and the backlash that inevitably follows. Remember when swing was cool for, like, a week in the nineties? After the Cherry Poppin’ Daddies dropped “Zoot Suit Riot” on an unsuspecting public? I sure as hell do. My Mum was cranking that shit in her Chevrolet van all fucking day! Point is, nobody dared bust a swing band for a good long time after that. We needed a break.

Of course, there are opportunities for bands like The Kent Boys. It would be nice to play the folk festival circuit across North America for the summer. But I have questions. First, how many times can you have a revival, before it’s called “stagnation”? And, secondly, how do you justify appropriating another culture and dialect; pretending to be an Okie from the Ozarks when, in fact, you hail from Oshawa, Ontario?

I think Atticus Finch, as an album, is really a showcase of possibilities for The Kent Boys. The first four tracks are kinda like an anthropological study, recreating a different time and place – transporting the audience. Initially, we are not even granted that staple of popular music: percussion. I’m ashamed to admit how long it took me to identify the missing piece. A daunting bass guitar drives the rhythm like a steam engine, while percussive strumming combinations of acoustic (unplugged), and banjo take the place of a drum kit. The vocals are shared amongst band members, everyone seems to get a turn at the forefront until they blend back in to a tight choral harmony. Each solo singer blends seamlessly into the choral bits, lending the illusion of a multi-track, trick trio. But it sounds to me like a one track – maybe one mic – recording; or else they’ve done a great job at producing that effect. You can almost hear the studio: its shape, its size and dimensions. It reminds me of the early folk collections Alan Lomax made for the Library of Congress, travelling through the American south, recording history. Any musician familiar with Lomax – as I assume The Kent Boys are – will cream their jeans at this

comparison. But where do you go from here? The very same studio effect I enjoy, also plays havoc with my modernised musical sensibilities. It bothers me, for example, that the finer details of these extremely talented musicians’ craft are lost in the name of reliving musical history. If they had recorded using separate tracks, or mixed each song more carefully – abandoning the Lomax special effect – I wouldn’t have missed the banjo on “Dustbowl” or much of the acoustic guitar throughout the album. I am of two minds: messy and authentic, or crisp and commanding? I have to see them live.

After the initial establishment of where the band is coming from, musically/culturally, they slowly and carefully begin to integrate more modern and experimental ideas. They make the rules with the first few songs, and then bend or even break ‘em. Conventional percussion – still much less present than is usually heard today – is added to the mix by the third track. One third of the way through the album, The Kent Boys really take off with “Tumbler.” This song is wicked! It’s like Halloween for hillbillies. There’s this eerie ambience about the whole thing, real dark and foreboding. A story about gambling, drinking, and gunplay. Who could ask for more? The vocals are pained, dissonant and lethargic. The acoustic guitar is replaced with an electric, and… is that a saw? Is that a guy playing a saw? Fuck yeah! That’s so Scooby-Doo, real spooky-like. Throw-in some Ray Manzarek-style keyboards, and finish with the dieing cry of a wounded dog, caught in a bear trap, and you got the best song on the album.

From there, the band makes its own contribution to their genre of choice, without any kind of modernization at all. “New Tatoo” sounds like an old-fashioned, chain-gang spiritual at first; with heavy percussive instruments reproducing the sound of rhythmic physical labour. But a mellow acoustic addition, and some deftly placed piano ads an extra bit of poetry and flair to the traditional aesthetic. The lone voice singing each verse, in what sounds like a big empty barn, is very similar in effect to The Arcade Fire’s chapel-turned-studio and its acoustics.

The album closes with a mean pair of duelling flamenco guitars, which both serve to frame a tasty banjo lick. It’s a simple story: burning through a pack of cigarettes, while waiting for… someone. “This was supposed to be fun.” It’s a badass way to play yourselves out, and it really showcases the instrumental and vocal virtuosity of the band.

As for cultural appropriation, I’m warming up to it. I’m beginning to accept that white folk like Aesop Rock can be rappers, for example. At first, the put-on cartoon, mountain man voice seems a little bit like a kitschy novelty; but as the album progresses The Kent Boys manage to make sense of it. They somehow make it relevant to Ontario, Canada 2007. And I am reminded of a similar bunch of Ontario boys, who made a lot of memorable music in the very same vein: a band so cosmically imbued with awesomeness, it could only be called “The.” The Band was exceptional at recycling tradition, and carrying it forward with ingenuity. The Kent Boys are not far behind, and I can’t wait to see where they end up.

Score: 7.5

- Glyn Bowerman

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