Max and the Wild Things

Occasionally, some unexpectedly fine stuff feeds its way under the wire and into my mailbox. Such is the case with Max and the Wild Things, a self-proclaimed "3-piece NewCountryPunkWave band from Nashville".

Not only is it encouraging to find concrete evidence that Tennessee continues to distil raw proof talent of the calibre of a first rate Jack Daniels, it is also unexpectedly heartening to hear it hailing from Music City and not Memphis; unparalleled purveyors of prime sound from Alex Chilton and the Box Tops to Elvis Aaron Presley and Sam Phillips' Sun Records.

Originally a sibling two-piece from West Swanzey, New Hampshire, the brothers Traynor have teamed up with drummer, Brendan Leahy for their debut EP: "Hands Down Mans Down". The following cut, while not on that release, more than admirably captures the visceral slap and punch of Max and the Wild Things in live performance. Expect to hear more from this quarter, here and elsewhere. - SibLINGSHOT on the bleachers

When you meet somebody based solely on a shared love of the single greatest basketball team the world has ever known, that’s not an immediate indication that you’ll see eye to eye on music. And when you meet that person and they hand you a demo based on that shared love for those heroes of the hardwood, your first instinct is not to ruin a potential friendship with your rather fascist critical instincts. But if the aforementioned sports franchise just happens to sign Rasheed Wallace to create a team with Voltron-like potential to destroy those gawddamn Lakers, well, we’re going to throw caution to the wind. Which was a good call, because Max & the Wild Things’ breezy Jonathan Richman-with-a-banjo approach to rock is totally part of our game.
Fri., July 31, 9 p.m., 2009 - The Nashville Scene

Recorded on the 9th September, 2009 - 9/9/9 to those of you with a morbid fascination for emergency services numerology - "The Grass is Always Greener" is the second EP release from Nashville's Max and the Wild Things. Something of a minor cause for celebration in my own household, it further cements my partisan allegiance to siblings Aidan and Cole Traynor, and third man, Clint (Max) Wilson; replacing one-time wild thing, Brendan Leahy, on drums.

More than merely a celtic thing, listening to these Aidan Traynor compositions is a bit like being blasted back in time to the Pixies 4AD debut release with the mushrooms poking their crowns through the short grass; a chill dew on the collar.

Spare and electric and temporarily unhinged, the sound is at once as exuberant as a puppy digging for ribs, and as amnesiac as a pirate mining for azure on a cloudy weekend.

Stripped to the bone and confusedly eloquent.

As with their first release, "Hands Down Mans Down", the four songs featured were recorded at Welcome to 1979, "utilizing only analogue equipment manufactured in the mid-seventies as the perfect antidote to compressed digital orthodoxy". To quote myself.

That alone is enough to make me prick up my ears. Produced and engineered by Chris Mara, Mickie Martel, Bert Stone, Neil O'Neil and The Wild Things, it also leads off with a brand new studio outing - with brass ? - of the sublime "Without a Sound" featured here this summer, live in The Basement.

Last time around, zero siblings commented. Leaving me in a minority of one. I must reveal I was inordinately disappointed. Until. My friend Gus brought it up at my wedding reception. Somebody, clearly, was listening in after all; for a moment there I felt almost on a par with John Peel. Without the salary and pension, of course. Or a f@cking radio show even.

An odder Tennessee Waltz, it would be hard to imagine. Buckle up your leg. - SibLINGSHOT on the bleachers