- Music
- 20 Mar 01
Washington DC bluesers The delta 72 currently have the rock critics of America all of a-quiver. Peter Murphy finds out why.
Washington s The Delta 72 have been rather lazily compared to The Jon Spencer Blues Explosion, but The Soul Of A New Machine, their excellent second album for Touch And Go (the Chicago label that brought you The Jesus Lizard, early Urge Overkill and Mule), deserves far better than to be regarded as the work of copycats playing catch-up. As tracks like Floorboard Shake illustrate, the band are far more beholden to John Lee Hooker than Royal Trux, and the black-hearted jazz of I ve Dreamt Of Leaving Ever Since You Told Me It s Alright suggests that they have more than the one charm in their armoury.
The name is a useful indication of where these pilgrims are coming from: their hearts are in the Delta, but bandleader Gregg Foreman was born as late as 1972 (significantly, the year Exile On Main Street was released). So, why is a twentysomething so in love with Howlin Wolf when his contemporaries grasp of musical history is likely to start with H|sker D|?
It s all from the parents putting it into your head, Gregg explains, backstage at Dublin s Temple Bar Music Centre. They were listening to The Stones and Al Green, my Mom worked for Motown. Some of it was really great, but looking back, it was definitely marketed for a white crowd, rather than the Memphis stuff which was raw, and that s what all the English people stole from. It really is a weird cycle; when you grow up, you rebel against that and start listening to punk, whether it was The Clash or Richard Hell.
But while Gregg cites No Wavers like The Contortions as being a significant influence, it all comes down to the roll rather than the rock. Watching bass player Bruce Reckahn and drummer Jason Kourkounis goofing off at the soundcheck with a series of staggered breakbeats and dropped-beat grooves that would do both Bootsy Collins and Sheila E proud, one can t but come to the conclusion that there s little disjunction between the best rock n roll and dance forms. Indeed, Gregg expresses the desire to collaborate with various dance remixers and vows to check out the work of Ulster hipster David Holmes. However, the guitarist and his band are committed to the art of live performance.
We re trying to bring that element back into music, he claims. Even back into the days of the MC5 and The Stooges, where you re bringing an energy back to the crowd. There s tons of bands who are big and have influenced the underground scene, but they just stand there, and the crowd sorta keeps their arms crossed and nod their heads. It s like, why are you going to a show, why are you paying? It s to see a live performer, live entertainment, live music.
While it s obvious that The Delta 72 can play the fuck out of whatever music they care to, there s no danger of them descending into muso hell, especially with Farfisa-tickler Sarah Stolfa on board.
She didn t know how to play a note of keyboards before she was in the band, so I taught her everything, Gregg explains. It s pretty primal still, I think that s what keeps it from sounding too retro.
It is this triumph of nature over training that makes The Delta 72 such a stimulating band. As 60s activist and one-time MC5 svengali John Sinclair testifies on the liner notes of the new album: The Delta 72 want you to be dancing while you listen indeed, they want to move you, physically and emotionally, they want to connect you to the source and the force that powers their music and their life on stage. And they want you to thrill to it every bit as much as they do. n
The Soul Of A New Machine is out now on Touch And Go Records