Death On Two Wheels

Death On Two Wheels, from Atlanta, Georgia, stopped in right around the noon hour and the tone got grittier and less touchy-feely. It started feeding off the rotten parts of romance a little more as frontman Trae Vedder clearly has had some different sorts of interactions with women lately. It’s either that or he’s checking into hotels in the same Southern locales that Patterson Hood has been cultivating his storylines from for years. There are murder ballads - songs where dudes are getting cut in the night by vengeful lovers - and other instances where there’s just nothing good that’s going to come out of any of it. They throw us right into the guts of messes, left and right and we get an earful of red nights and blue and dreary mornings. There are bodies thrown into dumpsters, and for others, there are numbered days and those crawling around on the ground, on the floor, skinning their knees, but getting used to it. The characters in these songs are written as scavengers, nervous smokers, nervous livers of life, skeptics and burning fires. Vedder sings, “Ain’t it plain to see we’re just another piece of meat wolves want,” and the mood is set.
- Sean Moeller - Daytrotter

Sometimes you need your music a little feisty and ferocious. The self-titled sophomore album from Atlanta’s Death on Two Wheels is exactly that as well as surprising, strafing and stunning. The disc opens with the rattling rocker “Look at the Sound,” a beast of a track with an explosive and shuddering chorus. The grungy “Hey Amariah,” is accented by another top-flight chorus and vocalist Trae Vedder’s craggy growl. The swampy and haunting “Petty Boom” is an organ-driven mashup of both Southern rock and 1970s album rock. Possessing as much attitude and swagger as the previous two songs, “Petty Boom” is an absolute firecracker and the first of many moments in which the band’s endless talent is on full display. The howling ass-kicker “Burn Loretta” follows and kicks and spits with rage and fury. Vedder’s throaty vocals are anything but understated and the passion that pours from him is almost otherworldly. The slow starting “Blamed Your Friends” kickstarts the disc’s latter half and does so in a way that would make fans of My Morning Jacket quite pleased. Ringing, hypnotic and chock full of clattering guitars, chiming organs and propulsive drums, it is as rewarding as it is revelatory. The leave-it-all-on-the-table stomper “Death Wolf” follows and has a sense of helplessness that gets expanded upon in its successor, the near-perfect “Blew it Out,” an Aerosmith-esque effort that is almost certain to be a live favorite. The Atlanta quintet turns the lights out with “Children,” a six minute stew of cacophony, torment and sweat. Whereas some discs leave you wanting more and anxious to go back and press repeat, Death on Two Wheels leaves you breathless, haggard and emotionally drained. While for some discs this is a major drawback, for this listening experience its the satisfaction of an hour fully invested. Whereas many bands are quick to rush through a disc and deliver a sloppy, unfocused effort, Death on Two Wheels has done exactly the latter. Though it is decidedly short on balladry and lighter fare, the impact of the eleven songs stand on their own. Though they are just two albums into their young careers, Death on Two Wheels have carved out an indelible impression and firmly cement themselves as a band worth paying attention to in the months and years to come. 8 of 10.
- Gregory Robson - AbsolutePunk.net

We work in an office, getting in early, staying late, hitting the occasional event and getting to bed on time like the buttoned gentlemen we’ve become. But on the weekend, we kick it with guys like the bros in Death On Two Wheels. You know the ones, the guys that keep the rock dream alive with zero regard for hearing loss and an endless thirst for whiskey. If singer Trae Vedder’s name doesn’t sound enough like a future rock legend, just listen to his early Steven Tyler-meets-Dave Grohl voice.
The fellas released their self-titled sophomore album last week and we think it’s one for the history books. We wouldn’t really compare their sound to any one band but we’ll just say that we feel the same way listening to Death On Two Wheels that we did listening to the self-titled Foo debut and Kings of Leon’s Youth & Young Manhood. There’s a real honest, hard-working “get ‘er done” vibe to this record, very necessary for both the times we’re looking to take over the world and also the times when we’re aiming to leave it behind.
Check out the raucous video for their single “Hey Amariah” below and then head over here to listen to the rest of the record. We swear on our reputation that if you really love good ‘ol rock n roll, you won’t be sitting still listening to these dudes. And if you don’t love rock…you just might after spending a little time with them.
- Josh Madden - NYLON Guys Magazine

Atlanta based rocker Death On Two Wheels has a reputation as a scintillating live act and it brings that energy to the studio on its new album.The raucous, self-titled gem is filled with bluesy riffs, pounding drums and swaggering lead vocals from frontman Trae Vedder, who sounds an awful lot like Aerosmith’s Steven Tyler. The one-two punch of “Look At The Sound” and “Hey Amariah” is terrific, and Death On Two Wheels scores with “Burn Loretta,” “Swamp,” “13 Words,” “Blew It Out,” and “Children.” ★★★★☆
- Jeffrey Sisk - Chicago Tribune

I later found myself at Lambert’s in the western part of Austin. Death On Two Wheels, a southern, twang-rock band from Georgia, took the stage at Lambert’s to a wildly enthusiastic, full room. Though I had never heard of the group, it was obvious that the rest of the crowd members were well acquainted as a good number of them sang along with the songs. The group’s tight performance showed that it is no stranger to the live-show circuit.
- Brendan Mehan - CMJ.com

You could sand a whole tree down to sawdust with all the gravel in singer Trae Vedder’s husky voice. It’s rough, it’s raw and it’s perfectly suited to Death On Two Wheels’ high octane Southern blend of rock and roll. What’s perhaps most surprising about the record is its versatility. Such a distinctive, almost dark vocal style would seem limiting until you hear how seamlessly the band weaves through a range of ’60s- and ’70s-inspired rock. The country blues of “Two Dollar Bills” call to mind acts like Lynyrd Skynyrd and Steve Miller Band, while album opener “Calling Us All Back Home” is more along the lines of party favorites penned by Thin Lizzy or maybe Bachman-Turner Overdrive. Then there are epic anthems like “Take It Away,” which feature an especially soulful Vedder over lush organ. Then, right when things start to feel a little too glossy, the band unleashes a series of reckless garage-rock rampages like “Hey Hey Hey.” Death On Two Wheels manages to be adventurous and yet grounded, exploring every nook and cranny of its influences without stretching itself too thin.
- Michael Gilzenrat - Flagpole Magazine | Athens, GA

Death On Two Wheels makes rock ’n’ roll dangerous again, with slurry-blurry lyrics, half-cocked dreamspeak of portents and regret, and a formidable guitar attack that recalls the nasty duels Allen Collins waged with Gary Rossington before Skynyrd’s final plane ride. Following the same bumpy trail as Kings of Leon, this Atlanta fivesome seems to be in pursuit of darker mysteries on the band’s self-released debut. And unlike the Kings, they have more range and a greater reverence for ’70s classic rock, not to mention the eccentric bite of vocalist Trae Vedder. Could he really have been christened with such a propitious rock name? No matter, he has the same grit and red clay in his voice that Chris Robinson had before he got famous and complacent—but there’s something even more disturbing in Vedder’s delivery that almost veers into goth. Especially on a song like “Bobby Havis,” which shudders with psychedelic anxiety. It’s a song so haunting it could’ve been penned in Rose Hill Cemetery next to Duane Allman’s headstone.
- Jaan Uhelszki, Paste Magazine - PASTE Magazine

Trae Vedder wants to rock your face off. It's been more than a year since his band, five-piece Atlanta rock outfit Death on Two Wheels, has attacked an Athens stage—maybe it was the Melting Point or the 40 Watt, or was it Go Bar with Radiolucent?—Vedder can't quite recall. Whatever the case, he's glad to be back, and he's ready to tear the house down.

“There's always something special about being at Caledonia,” Vedder says. “It's a small spot, but so many bands have come through there and played that stage. That's intriguing and inspiring in many ways.”

Since its inception as a studio band six years ago, Death on Two Wheels' sound has morphed and evolved, drawing on everything from ‘60s and ‘70s classic rock to ‘90s grunge. The band's forthcoming sophomore LP aims to hone in on the direction they found after hitting the road in support of 2008's Separation of Church and State, but no matter the spin they take, the Death stands strong as one thing: a rock 'n' roll band.

“From the get-go,” Vedder says, “I wanted a band that was full-on, high-energy and in-your-face. I've always enjoyed those sorts of bands; it's what made me pick up a guitar in the first place.”

The sound is raw—think Foo Fighters meets Jet with a touch of early Motörhead for good measure—while other moments evoke the heavier slow-jams of their Southern-rock roots. Vedder cites bands such as Queen, Electric Light Orchestra and the Doobie Brothers as inspiration for their heavy use of vocal harmonies, while Queens of the Stone Age, Pink Floyd and Phish influence the songs' texture and guitar-centricity. In every case, a good layer of grunge, thanks in no small part to Vedder's gritty vocals, keeps the band's sound at just the right level of unpolished.

Onstage, things go from raw to rambunctious.

“You'll hear the same harmonies as on the record,” Vedder says, “but the delivery of everything else musically is much more unrefined and nasty. Truth be told, we're a live band. That's where we prefer to be, and it's where people typically understand us best.”
- Bo Moore - Flagpole Magazine | Athens, GA