Gypsies Now - Reviews

Jason and the Scorchers: Fervor (EMI)

Adam Sweeting; Melody Maker Magazine, London, England
July 28, 1984

With much contemporary sound becoming more than a tad anaemic (they know who they are), we must turn our eyes to the West for a shot of that righteous stuff. Jason Ringenberg and his peerless Scorchers hail from Tennessee and, alongside playing the kind of live shows which can flay buckskin into shreds, they have made this mini LP which makes you feel good to be alive.
Basically it boils down to a steaming brew of rock, country and blues, the sort of thing British groups have never been able to do properly. Goaded by the blazing guitars of Warner Hodges and the rattling boxcar beat of bass and drum personnel Jeff Johnson and Perry Baggs, Jason himself yowls his occasionally apocalyptic lyrics like a scavenging hyena.
They open with the recent single, their skull-drilling revamp of Bob Dylan’s “Absolutely Sweet Marie.” Positively vetted by rocket engineers everywhere, “Marie” is oddly reminiscent of vintage Sex Pistols in the way it kick-starts your heartbeat and at once prompts premonitions of cardiac failure of a high order. Rarely has so much guitar been played by one man.
Other aces are side two’s delirious “Hot Nights in Georgia” and “Pray For Me, Mama (I’m a Gypsy Now),” very different kegs of moonshine. “Hot Nights” tops off its raw electric onslaught with a gale-force massed-harmonies chorus, the kind of thing a man finds himself singing loudly on the tube while wearing headphones. Here, Jason is helped out by R.E.M. voiceman Michael Stipe.
“Pray For Me, Mama,” on the other hand, is a weary country lament, with Jason treading the dusty path to perdition. “It’s been 10 years since that lonely day I left you/In the morning rain, smoking gun in hand,” he tells us, wishing things were different. Meanwhile, time stands still.
Elsewhere, there’s the tense bustle of “Both Sides of the Line,” the hiccupping scratch of “Help There’s A Fire,” and the caustic twang of “I Can’t Help Myself,” in which Hodges is uncaged once again. Buy now, and fan with Stetson.


News Meet The Scorchers Learn Back to Reviews > Look
News Meet The Scorchers Learn Back to Reviews > Look		Jason and the Scorchers: Fervor (EMI) Adam Sweeting; Melody Maker Magazine, London, England July 28, 1984 Copyright 1984-2004 Melody Maker Magazine With much contemporary sound becoming more than a tad anaemic (they know who they are), we must turn our eyes to the West for a shot of that righteous stuff. Jason Ringenberg and his peerless Scorchers hail from Tennessee and, alongside playing the kind of live shows which can flay buckskin into shreds, they have made this mini LP which makes you feel good to be alive. Basically it boils down to a steaming brew of rock, country and blues, the sort of thing British groups have never been able to do properly. Goaded by the blazing guitars of Warner Hodges and the rattling boxcar beat of bass and drum personnel Jeff Johnson and Perry Baggs, Jason himself yowls his occasionally apocalyptic lyrics like a scavenging hyena. They open with the recent single, their skull-drilling revamp of Bob Dylan’s “Absolutely Sweet Marie.” Positively vetted by rocket engineers everywhere, “Marie” is oddly reminiscent of vintage Sex Pistols in the way it kick-starts your heartbeat and at once prompts premonitions of cardiac failure of a high order. Rarely has so much guitar been played by one man. Other aces are side two’s delirious “Hot Nights in Georgia” and “Pray For Me, Mama (I’m a Gypsy Now),” very different kegs of moonshine. “Hot Nights” tops off its raw electric onslaught with a gale-force massed-harmonies chorus, the kind of thing a man finds himself singing loudly on the tube while wearing headphones. Here, Jason is helped out by R.E.M. voiceman Michael Stipe. “Pray For Me, Mama,” on the other hand, is a weary country lament, with Jason treading the dusty path to perdition. “It’s been 10 years since that lonely day I left you/In the morning rain, smoking gun in hand,” he tells us, wishing things were different. Meanwhile, time stands still. Elsewhere, there’s the tense bustle of “Both Sides of the Line,” the hiccupping scratch of “Help There’s A Fire,” and the caustic twang of “I Can’t Help Myself,” in which Hodges is uncaged once again. Buy now, and fan with Stetson. © 1984-2004 — Melody Maker Magazine — All Rights Reserved

		The Diesel Cafe l Meet Us l Links l Home l Search