The Yellowhammers

“This album sounds great. And Yellowhammers are the sort of crafty, more-than-meets-the-eye roots rockin’ outfit that is a nice fit for producer Jon Langford. Everything sounds so simple, and yet the iceberg lurks just beneath the surface. This sounds like an easy rollin’ evening, but there are storms on the horizon. Boy, I like their style.” - Aiding & Abetting

“The band’s latest long-player finds Langford applying lessons learned to Yellowhammers’ well-traipsed home grown style, taking a jaunty spin on “Everybody’s Joking,” purveying a hillbilly ramble for “St. Clair, The Cop and Ann Marie” and garnering some easy appeal of the back porch variety via “Women Strong.” Something in that Chicago water supply must be conducive to a down home delivery, given that the esteemed Bloodshot Records and various members of their alt-country collective all call the city home. And after hearing Yellowhammers nail the good old boy sentiments of “C’mon Elvis” and a rustic redo of R.E.M.’s “(Don’t Go Back To) Rockville,” one starts to suspect that perhaps the city’s south side is actually the northern annex of Dixie.” LEE ZIMMERMAN
- Blurt-OnLine

’St. Clair, the Cop and Anne Marie’ caught my ear because it’s a story song, it has a lot of Chicago references and it’s kind of, you know… dark.” RICHARD MILNE _WXRT - WXRT Radio

“There are vocal hints of James McMurtry and Michael McDermott and, instrumentally, it’s as if a group of front porch musicians called their rocker friends and joined the parade down the street. Fiddles, banjo and harmonica join in with guitars and a marching band tuba to create something that comes close to truly original.” Paddy Fineran/ Music Matters - Kenosha News

Chicagos YellowHammers have exactly the sound one would expect of a band nearing middle age, having cut their teeth in dingy bars playing to local record store clerks in shirts with pearl snaps.

That is, squeaky clean, traditional songwriting and old timey instrumentation (harmonica! fiddle!) that never feels insincere or inauthentic. Their decade and a half of hard work, half empty shows, and optimistic perseverance has finally paid off, as the band got punk legend and Chicago radio host Jon Langford (Mekons, Waco Brothers) to produce their self-titled fourth album, creating a product that sounds very much like something Langford would play on his show.

Album opener "Everybody's Joking" bounces along like a middle-era Lennon-McCartney composition, complete with violin and horn interplay and lyrical whimsy. The album begins to settle in with "Just the Same #7," a nod to the band's vast yet-unrecorded catalog, and a pretty little love song at that. The raspy, gravelly vocal creates an environment of world-weariness and seen-it-all heartbreak, a voice that is consoled by tender harmonies backing it up.

"St. Clair, the Cop and Ann Marie" is a ballad about a misunderstood ne'er do well, a dirty police officer with a grudge, and his loving stripper girlfriend, all amid an alt-country soup of banjo-picking, mouth-harping, and an affected southern accent. The tale turns to one of revenge, and Shakespearean tragedy, but never gets weepy as the singer stays well detached from the tale.

The band really opens up on album highlight "C'Mon Elvis," a barn burner sure to excite crowds on the band's upcoming tour. Contrary to its title, this number leans more toward the alternative than country while honoring the life of last century's biggest star. There's even a mention of his meeting with President Nixon, sung unapologetically and with nothing but respect. Pedal steel guitar screams up and down as the lead singer lets go a guttural shout, "LONG! LIVE! THE KING!"
Rounding out the album is a fairly faithful but unexpected cover of R.E.M.'s (Don't Go Back to)" Rockville" and a more subdued, loving version of "Just the Same." The record is super professional sounding, as to be expected when seasoned musicians work with a devoted, talented producer such as Langford.

The tunes are timeless in their efficiency and traditional structure, totally devoid of controversy or abrasive chords. Packed with enough Chicago landmarks to rival The Blues Brothers (eternal road construction, police corruption, awful weather, even Joliet Correctional Facility), YellowHammers feels like a relic from the mid-90s alt-country boom the city hosted. Those were the days. Matt Ayana - Static Multi-Media