The content of this review was originally posted on the online music and popular culture magazine I See Sound on 12 Jan 2006.
Release Date: 21 February 2006 (Saddle Creek Records)
Download “Las Cruces Jail” (mp3)
Download “Waves Of Grain” (mp3)
Rod heard about the Two Gallants’ What The Toll Tells while skiing at Arapahoe Basin. He always listens to his iPod the whole time down the hill. On the lifts, he would take a hit or two from his bowl, unless he was riding the chairlift with someone who might take offense to his drug use. Then he would just sit and listen to his iPod. On this ride to the top of the mountain for his final run of his day, he was sharing his pot with another ski bum. They started talking about the music to which Rod was listening and the conversation soon led to discussing different musical genres.
“We’ve been calling it Pulk.” Rod referred to the music he and Tad, his roommate, were recording in their living room back in Idaho Springs. They had a couple microphones always on stands next to the couch and a computer with a Digi002 ProTools setup. “It’s punk folk.”
“Like, what do you mean?” asked the ski bum.
“We’re trying to have the energy and rage of punk, but we want to stick to the intimacy of folk music and just use two acoustic guitars.”
“Cool, man. You should check out Two Gallants.”
“The James Joyce short story?” Rod had read “Dubliners” and a few other stories, but when he thought of Joyce he was always inevitably reminded of a friend’s ex-bootie-call-friend. She called that occasional hook-up “Emo Boy” because, in her words, he cried a lot and his favorite book was “Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man.”
“No, man. The band. They’re from San Francisco and they just joined Saddle Creek.”
“Really?” Rod was familiar with the Omaha, NE, record label. He had become a fan of Bright Eyes over the years. That alone made him check out most of the other bands on the label. He liked some of the folkier aspects of a couple of Azure Ray songs, some of the catchy dynamics of a few Sorry About Dresden songs, and some of the originality of some of Cursive’s material. Ultimately, though, he had been disappointed by a lot of those bands. Bright Eyes was the only thing on Saddle Creek that seemed to fit his idea of Pulk music.
Rod and this ski bum got off the first lift, skied down the ramp and shimmied to the next set of chairs. There was a short line.
“So what do Two Gallants sound like?”
“They’re a 2 piece. One guy plays guitar and harmonica and he sings. The other guy plays drums and sings some background vocals.”
“Like the White Stripes? Or The Black Keys?”
“Kinda. It’s blues oriented, like that, but it’s got more of a country blues feel. You gotta hear this one song of theirs. It’s called ‘Long Summer Day.’ It’s about racial discrimination. It’s the story of part of America’s history, you know, that we can’t escape. It’s told from the point of view of a black man in Mississippi back around 1917. This guy saw his dad burned and hung when he was five. Now, as a man, he goes to vote and is told he can’t cause he’s not white. He talks about Heaven and how the Southern heat feels like Hell. And after telling his story he says something like, ‘If I’m dead by sunrise kiss my baby girl for me. It ain’t life if it ain’t free. I’ve got a mighty burden to unload.’”
“Damn.”
“I know. You gotta check these guys out. Their new album is called What The Toll Tells. It’s got that punk-fuck-you attitude with this Muddy Waters feel.”
“Sounds like something I’d love.”
The final chairlift was coming to an end, but the ski bum kept babbling about this album.
“The first track is ‘Las Cruces Jail.’ Man, it’s so damn good. It starts and ends with this whistling wind sound. And it tells the best jail story since Johnny Cash sang about listening to the train from Folsom Prison. The whole album ends with ‘Waves of Grain.’ That tune’s an amazing, dark ballad that’s drenched with lines like ‘the fetus of Christ with a fistful of scarves.’ The emotions on the album tell outrageous stories and tales that are timeless.”
“I’m going to have to get that album. Thanks for telling me about it,” said Rod.
“Don’t mention it. Thanks for the pot.”
Rod put the little iPod headphones back in his ears and started his last trek of the day down the mountain and straight to The Beach, the name given to the parking lot at the edge of the ski resort. He was listening to some album. It didn’t matter what album he was playing. He wanted to hear Two Gallants. He needed to hear them.
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