Review Summary: An album as timeless as it is catchy.
One of the things that’s always impressed me about the Santa Cruz outfit, The Devil Makes Three, is how accessible they make Americana music. Pulling what they will from a hodgepodge of influences ranging from blues to punk, bluegrass to country, jazz and ragtime, this three piece makes traditional American music relatable to a modern audience.
Comprised of guitarist Pete Bernhard, guitarist and banjo player Cooper McBean and stand-up bassist Lucia Turino, The Devil Makes Three pumped out their self-titled first album in 2002. I have to confess that it wasn't until around ’07 that I first heard this album, but if there’s such a thing as love at first listen, this album falls squarely in that category.
Offering immensely catchy ear-worms like their best known song, Old Number 7, this is a band that’ll have you grooving from dusk till dawn, regardless of whether or not you’re necessarily into any of the aforementioned genres. Arguably, one of the most critical components of their sound is Bernhard’s lyricism. While there are loads of bands in the new wave bluegrass/country scene that are content rehashing ideas as old-timey as their music, Bernhard brings a visceral, and yet timeless, edge to the band. Topics dealing with alcoholism, lost love and yearning for an escape from the mundane day to day routine of small town life are all commonplace material on this album. Sound like you've heard these ideas brought up before? Well, you have, but arguably not presented in such an earnest and honest manner. Every word sung on this album feels genuine.
On top of that, these three know how to write a song. All of them are excellent musicians. From the speedy picking on tracks like The Bullet, to the laid back jazzy grooves of Shades, this group knows exactly what to throw into the mix, and when, to achieve the sound they want. Opening up tracks like Dynamite, Turino proves she knows her way around a bass fretboard. Bernhard’s voice may not sound like much, but it goes down smooth as jarred honey whiskey on a hot summer day.
Twelve years on, this album still holds its appeal, maybe more now than ever. I can still jam this album any time and enjoy it in its entirety, just as much as the day I heard them for the first time. I’d recommend this album to anyone, and if you haven’t heard it yet, pop it in, draw them shades down, and let everything else just drift away.
Tracks to check out:
Old Number 7
Beneath The Piano
The Plank
And, well, all the rest of 'em too
