Tag: Pink Floyd

Brent Cobb
Ain’t Rocked In a While

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

He might be a renowned lyricist and self-proclaimed songwriter-singer (not singer-songwriter). His typical sound may simmer with a supremely chill mix of country, blues, and soul. But Brent Cobb got his start with the crunchy thunder of guitar-driven rock ‘n’ roll and his seventh album takes him back.

Tapping the raw rage of garage rock, the distorted domination of ‘70s proto-metal, and more, Ain’t Rocked In a While finds this GRAMMY-nominated master of phrase returning to a world where the guitar riff is king – his first love as a musician. Co-produced with Oran Thornton and recorded live, 10 songs combine Cobb’s laid-back style with the immortal edge of bands like Black Sabbath, Metallica, and heavier inspirations still. But while old metalheads do tend to get rusty, this project is razor sharp.

Speaking with Good Country, Cobb explains the change of pace, as well as his abiding love for the rock ‘n’ roll spirit and new appreciation for classic-rock lyrics. Plus, the long-haired country boy explains how Ain’t Rocked In a While could fairly be considered “dad rock.”

I want to get the story behind this record. Ain’t Rocked in While is one of those projects that really seems to do what it say it’s going to do. How much of a creative release was this for you?

Brent Cobb: Well, this project was cool because I was focused more on riff and just really digging back into the foundation of what I grew up on. My first band was a rock band with my best friend Justin, who played guitar. He was real into Pink Floyd and AC/DC and Black Sabbath, and had me learning all those songs to sing. So when I was writing riffs and lyrics for this album, I sort of went back and was rediscovering those songs that I grew up learning.

Back then, even though I was learning the lyrics, I was just learning them to sing it. I wasn’t really paying attention to what they were saying and I didn’t think of those songs as very lyrical songs. I just enjoyed the groove. With this go ‘round, it really took all the pressure off of trying to write a lyrical song – which in turn made the lyrics come way easier. It also made me aware of just how lyrical those old classic rock songs were.

Oh, right!

I didn’t notice it or I didn’t appreciate it, but I don’t guess you would as a teenager. So that was the whole process – I was just trying to write a riff album and wanted to rock a little and show the audience a reference for a live show when they came, but wound up writing lyrical songs anyway.

I guess you just can’t help it. You’ve always been known as a storyteller and a songwriter first, and you even did a gospel record just a few cycles ago. Where does hard rock fit into your listening habits?

It all has always coexisted in my little world. My mom’s from Cleveland, Ohio, and my uncles – her brothers – they were all rockers into Led Zeppelin, The Beatles, and just the classic stuff. But then here, my dad was in a band with his brother – my other uncle – and my dad would cover the early ‘50s and ‘60s rock ‘n’ roll and my uncle would do classic country. So I grew up around that, but if you looked at any of my playlists, it’s just always been real eclectic that way for sure. For this album, Master of Reality [by] Black Sabbath was probably the biggest influence and the one that I would keep returning to for inspiration. And not just in riffs, but in the way that they structured that album to ebb and flow.

This might be a hard question to answer, but how heavy do your tastes get? What do you think would be the hardest hitting band in your collection?

Oh man. Well, [for] modern [artists], I’d probably say the band Sleep. Have you ever listened to much of them?

I don’t think so. I’m going to have to check that out right after this.

It’s like stoner metal. That’s probably the hardest stuff that I’ll listen to right now. But I don’t know – I mean, Sabbath is so hard still to this day. Those first five albums are unreal. … With Sleep, that’s some heavy stoner metal.

Yeah, I’m looking on Spotify right now. They’ve got songs like “Marijuanauts’s Theme.” [Laughs] That’s an awesome title.

Dude, I know! But that stuff is like, you can go find sections of old Sabbath songs and it’s kind of like [Sleep] built a whole sound on little sections of Sabbath songs. But then if you go further, it’s all blues – that’s all it is.

For any true rock record, the recording itself is so important – trying to capture the energy. I know you recorded live-to-tape and that seems like the rock ‘n’ roll dream, right? Was that experience different from digital recording?

Well, honestly, each of my albums have always been recorded to tape except Keep ‘Em On They Toes. But with that said, it is a modern world and we still record to tape and then dump all that into Pro Tools to where it’s easier to edit, then take that and dump it all back to tape. You get the original physical, sonic difference that is recording to tape when each tape is completely different, because the needle’s hitting different, the amp was hotter, or whatever. But then we fast forward to the modern world to where we can just really be quicker and more efficient.

I think we had 10 days blocked off to record, and then I got sick on the first two days. And then Oran [Thornton], my co-producer and head engineer, he got sick for two days. And so we wound up recording in seven or eight days.

That is a plus of the modern age for sure. In any case, it came out sounding really tight – you recorded as a band, right?

That’s right. It’s the touring band [The Fixin’s] I’ve had for a while now. … The studio we recorded at in Springfield, Missouri, was this little bitty, almost broom-closet size live room, and they were all in the main live room together. I did want to isolate myself, so I was in an even smaller little isolation booth with a window where we could still see each other. … I obviously am not as experienced in singing those type songs and playing those type riffs at the same time, so I knew I was going to screw up some lyric phrasings and I didn’t want to mess everything else up. So I was the only thing I isolated.

Where’d that title track come from? “Ain’t Rocked In a While” – this definitely has that Black Sabbath feel, stretching out to five minutes.

Straight up. It started because I had bought my son a little drum kit for his fourth birthday a couple years ago. He just loves the drums … and then I would set my amp up and get my guitar out and we’d just be jamming in his room. One day he was like, “Dad, play some rock ‘n’ roll guitar.” And I’d hit a little lick and he’s like, “No, no, rock ‘n’ roll.” I’d play another little lick. And he said, “No, dad, like Mattman” – which is [the Fixin’s guitar player] Matt [McDaniel]. I was doing the best I could, really just trying to prove to him that daddy could rock.

That’s funny!

So I came up with that “Ain’t Rocked In a While” riff and then it turned into me proving to my son, “I have rocked before, boy. It just ain’t been a while.” I thought it would be funny, but I also thought, “Well, all of us are sort of that way.” I’m nearly 40 and a father of two, so you could definitely consider this album Dad Rock, but all our kids don’t know. We all had some rock eras, whether that be in life or musically or whatever it is.

Well, you still got the hair, so I think it’s easier to make that case.

[Laughs] Hell yeah. It’s funny you say that. My mama just yesterday, she used to be a hairdresser and had her own business, and she was like, “You need to let me cut your hair.” And I was like, “Look, I’m going to keep it growing until it don’t grow no more.” I’m barely gray and I ain’t thinning too much yet. Until that happens, I’m going to keep rocking the long hair.

A little earlier you mentioned how [hard rock is] all blues at the bottom, right? I think that really comes through in a song like “Do It All the Time.”

Man, I’m going to have to give my son some co-writing credit on this album, I guess. That riff did come out very Skynyrd-esque, but … I was actually trying to do my best James Gang feel with the riff, the melody, and the double vocals on that chorus. That early James Gang stuff is so badass – but I think Skynyrd also was probably trying to do their best James Gang on some of their stuff.

Anyway, the idea of that song is from when [my son] Tuck was even younger, we’d be like “Oh man. Look dude, you ate all your food!” And he would say, “I did it, and I do it all the time.” So I always had that. I started saying “I do it all the time!” And then I don’t know how much I should say, but sometimes when you’re parents, you and your other half may not be on the same page. … You’re just both sleep-deprived and sometimes it’s hard to see. And so I think we were having a little moment of that and I was going, “I tried then and I try now and I try all the time. I did it and I do it all the time, babe!” So that’s where it came from.

Okay, one more thing here. For fans who come out and see you live, do you think this is going to change the shows? Are you guys going to rock out more or what?

I mean the only way that we’ll rock out more is we just have more songs to rock out to. But no, in every album that I’ve ever put out all the way back to 2006 with No Place Left to Leave, there’ve always been rock leaning songs in my catalog – including songs that others have recorded; some of the Whiskey Myers stuff, or The Steel Woods stuff. For a little bit there seemed like a disconnect, because I don’t think [people at my shows] were aware of that rock stuff, but it’s just a funner show to me and for us especially.

Now we just have more to pull from, and for people who show up, it’s the same show. I try to do songs from every album and I’ll take requests, too. I don’t turn those down. But now, I think people will show up and they won’t be taken by surprise at all if it does drop.

Photo Credit: Jace Kartye

Mixtape: Yarn’s Songs Of and About Pop Culture

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

I make a lot of references in Yarn’s music about other bands, artists, movies, actors, etc… I didn’t realize how much until I started working on this Mixtape.  Just a few of the things I mention are Jim Croce, Dolly Parton, The Allman Brothers, George Burns, Bob Wills, Waylon Jennings, Velvet Underground, Rex Moroux – and the list goes on. This Mixtape will include references to other artists, food, and places famous in the world of pop culture during its given time of release. – Blake Christiana, Yarn

“Play Freebird” – Yarn

I figured I’d start and end with two of our songs from our new album, Born, Blessed, Grateful & Alive. My wife started writing this one about her father and I took it over and finished it. The entire song is based around another super famous song that Mandy’s dad used to play around the house when she was a kid. And now, if anyone yells out ‘Free Bird’ at one of our concerts, we’ve got something to give ’em.

“You Never Even Called Me By Name” – David Allen Coe

Such a perfect song for this Mixtape. Coe even impersonates the singers he references in this song as well as poking fun at the entire country music genre. Pretty brilliant. Waylon Jennings, Charley Pride, Merle Haggard, and he even references his own name.

“Calling Elvis” – Dire Straits

We could do a giant Mixtape with songs that just reference Elvis alone. I love this one, because just about every lyric is a reference to Elvis and the songs he recorded. Also, Mark Knopfler is THE MAN. More Elvis to come on this list.

“Bette Davis Eyes” – Kim Carnes

I had to include a quintessential ’80s tune on here and this is it. Great voice on Kim Carnes, the perfect sultry rasp. Of course she references the actress, Bette Davis, as well as Greta Garbo.

“Mrs. Robinson” – Simon & Garfunkel

Here’s one with a sports icon reference. Paul Simon has done a lot of these kinds of references in his songs, too, and I’ll include one of those later in the tape. Joe DiMaggio, the famous New York Yankee who married Marilyn Monroe, is mentioned here as ‘Joltin’ Joe.’

“Candle In The Wind” – Elton John

Nice little transition here from The Yankee Clipper to Marilyn Monroe. This entire song is written about Monroe.

“Man on The Moon” – R.E.M.

Lots of references here, but the main star of the song is Andy Kaufman, the brilliant comedian who starred in Taxi in the ’70s. Love Andy Kaufman and R.E.M. Great song. Other honorable pop-culture mentions in this song are 21, Checkers, Chess, and of course Elvis. Also a great Elvis impression from Michael Stipe.

“Nobody Home” – Pink Floyd

The Wall might have been my favorite album as a kid. And in this particular song off that album, Roger Waters sings ‘the obligatory Hendrix perm,’ a direct reference to Jimi Hendrix and his hair style. Glad I got to include Pink Floyd on here. Beautiful song.

“Walkin’ In Memphis” – Marc Cohn

This song just had to be on here. More Elvis for ya, along with WC Handy, Beale Street, Al Green, and more. Another fantastic song.

“Graceland” – Paul Simon

What do you know, more Elvis. I think I need to write a song about Elvis now. This song is too good, it paints a picture as good as any song ever written. Enough said.

“Dairy Queen” – Indigo Girls

I thought we needed some pop-culture food references, so I included these next two songs. Not to mention, Indigo Girls and Amy Ray are my wife’s favorites. Amy Ray’s recent solo records have all been really great and everyone should have a listen.

“Factory” – Band of Horses

I love this tune and its reference to the candy of my youth, Now and Laters. To me, Band of Horses is like a modern day Beach Boys. Great band, great songs, and great harmonies. This song reminds me how half my life is spent in a hotel room.

“I Want You” – Yarn

I reference the 1980 movie, Honeysuckle Rose, with Willie Nelson & Diane Cannon. Not sure anyone saw it, but it’s about an affair on the road between musicians Nelson and Cannon, and the song itself follows a similar plot line. I wrote this song with my longtime writing partner, Shane Spaulding.

Photo Credit: Bob Adamek

BGS 5+5: The Deer’s Grace Rowland

Posted on by Editor

Artist: The Deer (answers by Grace Rowland)
Hometown: San Marcos/Austin, Texas
Latest Album: The Beautiful Undead
Personal nicknames (or rejected band names): We used to be called Grace Park and The Deer, when I was using that stage name and it was more my folk songwriting project. We have many silly names for Noah, our fiddle/mandolinist, including Nugiel and Space Nug. Our guitar player Michael goes by Deenyo.

What’s the toughest time you ever had writing a song?

They don’t always come easy, and the muse is ephemeral, like a Whac-A-Mole. We strike when the iron is hot and write independently as much as we can, but we also have to force ourselves to get together and record every now and then whatever comes to mind, even when in a drought. These “drought” sessions are some of the toughest because they are so open-ended. But a lot of good can come from them — the song “Six-Pointed Star” comes to mind right now. It started as a simple song we made in the woods, but when we took it to the studio we had the worst time trying to make it sound right. We must have made four different versions until we finally hit it, but now it is one of our favorites to play.

Which artist has influenced you the most … and how?

Gillian Welch’s rustic realism
John Hartford’s wordsmithing
Depeche Mode’s moody chord progressions and deep bass
Pink Floyd’s subtle layering and studio techniques
Tori Amos’ outspoken poignancy and fearless lyricism

How often do you hide behind a character in a song or use “you” when it’s actually “me”?

For me, it’s often the other way around. I will write from a first-person perspective to make it sound like it’s me, but the person is actually someone else in another body, and the events are imaginary, or real but in another time. In this way I feel like I can transcend time and space lyrically, perhaps to sound a call for mystical encounters that would be otherwise impossible, or to set the stage for events that have yet to happen. One example is the lyricism in “Like Through the Eye,” a billowing romp of a dream that never actually took place, but an experience that I have always envisioned and desired to happen to me. Songs are a way of bringing these things to me. Jesse, however, does this all the time. For instance in our new single “Bellwether,” the original lyrics were “I am falling farther into Me.” As a narcissistic ode to ourselves it served a purpose, but for our greater audience we decided to soften it into a palatable love song.

Which elements of nature do you spend the most time with and how do those impact your work?

Bodies of water would be our main way of connecting with nature as a group. We make it a point to visit rivers, oceans, hot springs, and lakes wherever we can, and take in Earth’s most valuable essence, and all the plants and animals they gather around them. In lyrics we often reference the sea and the river, flora and fauna, and interspecies relationships, because they reflect the cosmological order that governs our bodies and our feelings. Our complex emotions can be understood better when we zoom out and realize that we are not only driven by this order, but a vital part of it.

What was the first moment that you knew you wanted to be a musician?

I was really into musicals as a kid, watching VHS tapes for hours on end and learning every song. My first concert was Lilith Fair in 1997. I was 12, and it was life-changing. However, my decision to actually pursue music as a career didn’t come until my early 20s, when I met a large swath of working musicians at Kerrville Folk Festival in 2006. Seeing so many people my age who were writing their own songs and touring independently, traveling with freedom and spreading their art, was enough to set my intent upon making that dream real.

Whether we got started later or earlier in life, as a group the media we consumed as kids was probably 100% responsible for illustrating an applied use for the gifts we knew we possessed. MTV (back when they played music videos), the Grammys, Saturday Night Live, the Super Bowl halftime show, and yes, even church — these mainstream outlets showed us at an early age what it looked like when someone was giving it their all to entertain their community, and the world. It was enough to inspire each of us to hone our skills, and bring our talent to people on our own scale.

https://open.spotify.com/playlist/1N6SuTPadcfEYWC8l5gRqw?si=zp3dc_rGQKOkpL6k3vlhmA&nd=1

Photo credit: Barbara FG

BGS 5+5: Hein Cooper

Posted on by Editor

Artist: Hein Cooper
Hometown: Mollymook, NSW
Latest Album: True to You
Personal nicknames (or rejected band names): Shane Hooper 😂

Which artist has influenced you the most … and how?

Bon Iver. Something about the first time I heard “Skinny Love” it hit me so deeply, and I think the rawness was something new at the time, which made it special. It was something I could do on a guitar, and that’s all I had at the time…so I went deep and made it my own. From there, I got into a bunch of different stuff.

What was the first moment that you knew you wanted to be a musician?

When we were in high school, my friend bought a guitar, and I did the same thing and was straight up hooked!

What other art forms — literature, film, dance, painting, etc. — inform your music?

Books!!! I read Hemingway, Hesse, Fitzgerald, all the old stuff as much as possible. It helps me play with words; it’s how we communicate and fascinates me!

What rituals do you have, either in the studio or before a show?

I stay in Spanish castles, and I find it rejuvenates me 😂

Which elements of nature do you spend the most time with, and how do those impact your work?

The ocean! I live in a beautiful part of Australia, and it’s right on the edge of the forest and the ocean. It grounds me and makes me produce music I can stand behind.

https://open.spotify.com/playlist/0kZDtz2Bpmec9iWOxHcXsg?si=svczLit5QIGyV66WucfTRg

Photo Credit: @jessgleeson

Canon Fodder: Kate Bush, ‘The Kick Inside’

Posted on by Editor

Poor Lizzie Wan meets a dark end every time someone sings her song. In the ancient Scottish tune that takes her name as its title, the young lady finds herself pregnant out of wedlock and confronts the father, who happens to be her own brother Geordy. His solution to their dire predicament is to withdraw his sword, decapitate her, and dismember her body. Afterward, he tries to convince their mother that the blood is from his beloved greyhound, but the truth proves inconcealable. At song’s end he is planning to flee: “Oh, I will dress myself in a new suit of blue,” goes one version of the lyrics, “and sail into some far country.” With its heir absent, the family will flounder in disrepute.

Even the grisliest murder ballads, such as “Knoxville Girl” and “Banks of the Ohio,” carry similar subtext: Imagining the murdered woman is pregnant with the killer’s child provides some motivation for what often sounds like a senseless killing. In “Lizzie Wan,” however, the pregnancy is complicated by the father’s relationship to the mother. Incest ballads are not uncommon, but they represent a taboo even more forbidden than violence. So it’s all the more remarkable that Kate Bush had the audacity to rewrite “Lizzie Wan” on her 1978 debut, The Kick Inside. The title track imagines a very different ending for the story, one that grants its distressed protagonist more sympathy and more agency in her fate. Rather than confront her brother, she leaves home and escapes to who knows where, saving not only her own life but also that of her unborn child. Rather than a victim, Lizzie becomes something closer to a hero.

There is nothing in Bush’s version, either musically or lyrically, that explicitly points to its source material. Coming at the end of an album that is very elaborate in its pop arrangements, the song strips away everything but the most basic elements: voice, piano, and minor orchestral flourishes. “The Kick Inside” sounds hushed relative to the elaborate songs that precede it, but still intensely idiosyncratic, emphasizing her graceful vocal swoops and pirouettes. Her performance, as eccentric and potentially off-putting as it may be, reinforces the empathy of her lyrics, which take the form of Lizzie’s parting letter to her lover/brother: “This kicking here inside makes me leave you behind,” Bush sings. “No more under the quilt to keep you warm. Your sister I was born.”

Bush was only a teenager when she undertook such a highly ambitious project to rewrite a centuries-old ballad. Her version betrays a potent strain of adolescent romanticism (“You must lose me like an arrow shot into the killer storm”), yet she displays a sensitivity that seems beyond her years. “The Kick Inside” usefully complicates the narrative by neither condoning nor condemning its protagonist for her predicament. It feels like an act of supreme mercy that Bush allows Lizzie to survive her own song after centuries of being murdered. We can sing along without participating in the violence against her.

In its inspiration “The Kick Inside” is a very different kind of folk song, but it does not sound like folk music. Forty years after its release, it sounds like nothing we associate with roots music. Rather, it’s anchored in the rock and pop of the late 1970s, incorporating some of the jazziness of Van Morrison, the sophisticated melodicism of the Beatles, and some of the artsy conceptuality of Pink Floyd, but all toward very different ends. She belongs to the generation that popularized punk, yet she is only punk insofar as she vociferously rejects certain commercial aspects of pop music. It’s not that she’s not a folkie; it’s that she’s not anything other than Kate Bush, a genre consisting of only one artist.

Growing up in Bexleyheath, Kent, in the southeast of England, Bush began writing songs when she was 11 years old, the most prodigious talent in an intensely musical family. Her mother specialized in traditional Irish dance, and her brothers were active in the Kent folk scene; in fact, brother Paddy plays mandolin on The Kick Inside. Her family produced a tape of 50 demos of her original songs and shopped it around to record labels, with very little luck. Eventually the tapes—which have since been widely bootlegged—found their way to David Gilmour, guitarist for Pink Floyd, who helped secured a contract with EMI. The label placed the teenager on retainer until they felt she was old enough to release an album and handle her success.

Perhaps they underestimated her. Bush emerges as a headstrong and even visionary artist almost from the start, with very rigid ideas of how she wants to present herself and her music. EMI originally wanted to release “James and the Cold Gun,” a rock-inflected tune that suggests a more aggro Carole King, as the first single previewing The Kick Inside. Bush not only objected but managed to convince them to release “Wuthering Heights” instead. It was a risk: The song is based on Emily Brontë’s 1847 novel, sung from the point of view of a ghost haunting the moors and pining for a living lover. It was hardly a formula for chart success, especially when Bush postponed the single by a month when she was unhappy with the artwork EMI provided. When it was finally released in January 1978, Bush was vindicated. By February “Wuthering Heights” was the number one song in England, and she made history by becoming the first woman to top the UK charts with a self-penned song.

Released in March 1978, The Kick Inside reveals a young artist positioning herself strategically between the ancient and the modern, between folklore and pop music. Sounding very much of its moment, it is nevertheless an album populated by ghosts and spirits. Not goth but certainly gothic, it is an album of hauntings. Some are literal: That’s Catherine Earnshaw’s spirit tapping at the window in “Wuthering Heights.” Other are figurative: The spellbinding music she describes in “The Saxophone Song” seems to have supernatural origins and powers, and the mysterious lover in “The Man with the Child in His Eyes” only appears “when I turn off the light.” Remarkably these ghosts are not diminished by the modern sound of The Kick Inside. Rather, they thrive in that friction between the old and the new.

BGS 5+5: The Teskey Brothers

Posted on by Amy Reitnouer

Band Name: Sam Teskey (of the Teskey Brothers)
Hometown: Warrandyte, AUS
Latest Album: Half Mile Harvest
Personal Nicknames: Sammy

Which artist has influenced you the most … and how?

I’ve gone through a lot of stages that different artists have influenced me more, but I would have to say B.B King has always been there, and I’ve always come back to his work.

I feel there are two elements to great music — the song and the soul behind it. The marriage of the two really is something special. For example, take the Beatles song “With a Little Help trom My Friends” and give it to Joe Cocker … say no more. B.B does this with ease in his music — simple, but great songs played in just the right way with so much soul behind it.

What was the first moment that you knew you wanted to be a musician?

Well, firstly, I saw a Jimi Hendrix DVD, and I was sold then. But also, I think growing up around St. Andrews pub (near where we grew up) got me very interested. Seeing working musicians come through every weekend showed me that it was possible if I worked at it.

What rituals do you have, either in the studio or before a show?

When we are recording, I usually get to the studio early, before the band arrives, so I can get the tape machine warmed up and aligned. It takes the length of a record to get it ready, so I choose one for the morning to also align my head and ears. Most commonly Traffic or Neil Young’s Harvest.

Which elements of nature do you spend the most time with and how do those impact your work?

We have our studio upstream of Melbourne on the Yarra River in a beautiful town called Warrandyte. This is where we all grew up, among the trees, swimming and jamming by the river. It is a very refreshing place to write music and share song ideas. There seems to be a lot of musos making music out there. Must be something in the water, or just a great space to make music. Whatever it is, we feel at home there.

What’s the weirdest, hardest, nerdiest, or other superlative thing about songwriting that most non-writers wouldn’t know?

The strangest thing about songs for me is, where do they come from? I imagine them to be something that is always floating around us like microscopic dust. Learning to write a song is like trying to catch them all and fitting them together like a puzzle. Once you’ve completed one puzzle, you don’t know how you are going to find the next one … but they always seem to find you. You just have to be open to finding them or letting them find you.