The Chewers – Dead Dads
Self released – 2015
Rock, Punk, Experimental, Noise
Rated: ***
Primus, Ween, Zappa, Waits, Wall of Voodoo and Beefheart all come to mind after the first two tracks of Nashville duo The Chewers third studio album Dead Dads have washed over you. Yes, the experimental, avant-garde and all round weird guys are back and are just as nutty as before. Sometimes pondering Curtains, just curtains and at other times telling better stories and working the language way superior to Jack Kerouac in for instance Jimmy Does The Shimmy. And those moments seem to be the ones that linger the most. Sure, we can enjoy their ventures into the more punky and noisy avenues. But whenever they make the music subdued, the humor run wild and they turn into freaky beat poets Dead Dads turns into something awfully addictive. So wherever when the sun goes down and I sit on an old broken-down river pier watching the long, long skies over some city and sense all that raw land that rolls in one unbelievable huge bulge over to the horizon behind it, and all that road going, and all the people dreaming in the immensity of it, and in other countries I know by now the children must be crying in the land where they let the children cry, and tonight the stars'll be out, and don't you know that God is Pooh Bear? the evening star must be drooping and shedding her sparkler dims on the prairie, which is just before the coming of complete night that blesses the earth, darkens all the rivers, cups the peaks and folds the final shore in, and nobody, nobody knows what's going to happen to anybody besides the forlorn rags of growing old, I think of The Chewers, I even think of Old The Chewers, the father we never found, I think of The Chewers and the Dead Dads.
(Written by JK)