Bhi Bhiman is a one-man folk music force of nature. He’s a Sri Lankan-American who grew up in St. Louis and later re-located to San Francisco, where he lives today. His debut album, BHIMAN, was released in January of this year and is winning over music critics, musicians, fans and long-time folkies with impeccable acoustic guitar and marvelous storytelling, taking on personas of a North Korean prisoner, a hobo riding the rails, a redneck, and a jealous lover, among many others.

But more impressive than his technical proficiency on acoustic guitar or his songwriting is his unmistakable tenor. Bhi appears to barely utter his vocals, yet they swell up inside a room and become larger than life. His grace is most evident when singing “Guttersnipe,” a complex and powerful vocal performance that Bhiman delivers effortlessly.

In the video for “Guttersnipe,” you’ll also see some footage of Bhi hanging out with our live session producer, Steve Shirk at Shirk Music + Sound. Shirk introduced Bhi to his prized 1941 Gibson SJ acoustic guitar – the same guitar that Joe Pug used in recording 90% of his 2010 album Messenger in Shirk’s studio.  It’s a guitar that was almost destroyed in Shirk’s early days living in New York and Bhi commented that it was the best sounding acoustic he’d ever played. He decided to play it on “Guttersnipe” for the session.

If you’re into these songs, please go buy the album. You will not be disappointed. If you live in San Francisco, you can find Bhi Bhiman on June 9th with Donovan Frankenreiter at The Independent.

Bhi Bhiman Introduction

Exclusive: Bhi Bhiman – Ballerina

Exclusive: Bhi Bhiman – Crime of Passion [Video: YouTube]

Exclusive: Bhi Bhiman – Take What I’m Given

Exclusive: Bhi Bhiman – Guttersnipe [Video: YouTube]

Download the Bhi Bhiman Live Session as a zip file.

Since moving out to The City of Fountains (yes, Kansas City), I’ve been to a handful of shows but haven’t caught any local bands. Oddly enough, I discovered Lawrence, KS band Quiet Corral in Austin at our SXSW party and have been enamored with their 2010 self-titled EP and their latest single, “City Steep,” released earlier this year.

Their sound fits perfectly into the folk-rock invasion that has become the latest crave. As I made my way through their EP, I drew comparisons to The Decemberists (Lonely Company, City Steep) and Elvis Perkins (One, Two, Three, Oh) with the pop appeal of Delta Spirit and Mumford and Sons.

They have some tour dates listed on their site, including a stop at the Wakarusa Festival.

One of my favorite songs from The Band is “The Night They Drove Old Dixie Down” and Lisa Hannigan’s rendition in tribute to Levon Helm more than does the song justice. I’m not sure where Lisa found her band mates, but they have serious talent. This is the stuff that makes goosebumps.

The Walkmen have a new album coming out on Fat Possum on June 10th called Heaven. We got a new track and a trailer so you can sample the goods like a fine caviar. If the lead track is any indicator, I think we got a winner on our hands. Quoth the PR juggernaut:

The Walkmen just celebrated their 10th anniversary and are still comprised of the same members that started the group in 2001 – drummer Matt Barrick, multi-instrumentalist Pete Bauer, singer Hamilton Leithauser, guitarist Paul Maroon and bassist Walter Martin. The Fleet Foxes’ Robin Pecknold sings harmonies on two songs on the record.

When describing Heaven, Leithauser portrays a band hitting maturity, comfortable in its mastery, after a decade together. “The detachment you can feel throughout our younger records is gone. We felt like it was time to make a bigger, more generous statement.”

It’s been ten years since the Walkmen made their debut album, Everybody Who Pretended To Like Me Is Gone. Ten years since they mixed the lovingly recorded analogue tapes down to the cheapest CD burner they could find. Ten years since Leithauser snapped Maroon’s arm in a celebratory wrestling match. Ten years since critics attached them to a New York scene they never wanted any part of. In the spring of 2011, the band played a series of 10th anniversary shows that demonstrated how far they have outstripped their peers: two sets over two hours, no filler, rapturously received. In contrast, fellow graduates from New York’s celebrated rock revival class of ’02 have burned out or faded from view.

On the Tuesday night of SXSW, Oz was trying preview Nick Waterhouse for me before seeing his set the following day. I was skeptical at best; ornery at my worst. I remarked to him, “I hope this isn’t some hipster bullshit revival act where some clown gets up in a suit and sings some old-school karaoke crap.”

The next day, we had just witnessed an amazing set from Lee Fields and I was still prickly. “That’s a tough set to live up to,” I remarked. But then, not only did Nick Waterhouse put to rest any moronic preconceived notion I had, his set left my jaw on the ground. I was blown away like no other set that week.

While Waterhouse is inspired by the music of my parents, he stamps his own style on it. His sound is little rough around the edges and can occasionally come of the rails – an attribute that I appreciate. I love the fact that the music maintains some lo-fi garage aesthetic and isn’t polished up within an inch of its life. Slick production could cause the music to lose its soul and that clearly doesn’t happen here. The horns aren’t just along for the ride. They constantly add some serious punch throughout the album. And if all that isn’t enough, Waterhouse can tear it up on the guitar.

The opening track, “I Wanna Know,” had the crowd in a frenzy when we saw him at The Shangri-La in Austin. It has a punchy baritone sax pushing it forward and then the background female vocals enter the fray offering support before one of the ladies takes over the final verse. As she belts, “We trying and we want to know,” the others back her with repeatedly singing, “Say I wanna know” while Waterhouse works into a furious guitar solo. On the album, it is amazing but seeing it live is mind-blowing.

“Is That Clear” begins with a gritty guitar riff coming out of an analogue amp that slowly builds into a 2:30 minute rocking, swinging affair. I love Waterhouse’s raw vocals on this tune that is one of the best singles of the year.

I have been obsessed with Waterhouse since SXSW. I got home Sunday morning and I pulled his EP up on MOG and played it immediately for my wife. I now have his debut LP Time’s All Gone on steady repeat and am itching for a tour that’ll bring him through Chicago. The record is out now.

I remember the first time we all heard Joe Pug. Listening to his lyrics, I would have guessed him to be closer to my age than his true age of 23. The lyrics he put to paper belied his true age. The same is true of newcomer John Fullbright and his astonishingly young age of 21.

Fullbright hails from Okemah, Oklahoma – the birthplace of Woody Guthrie. And while it would be convenient to slap the “new Woody Guthrie” tag on Fullbright, that would be doing a disservice to him. Clearly inspired so many before him including Townes and Leon Russell, Fullbright puts his own stamp on American music and stakes his claim as an important voice to be heard.

“Gawd Above” leads the album off with a bluesy stomp and a first person look at how the good Lord above sees his constituents below. Let’s just say, I don’t think Fullbright will be paying a visit to The 700 Club any time soon.

I made the heaven and earth
I made the stars above
Is it too much to ask for a little love

So I’ll tip my hat to all of your creations
You can fly like birds
Destory entire nations
Go and curse my name with your last breath
If all I brought to your life was death
Now you’re all my own
All mine together
Will you sing my praise
Sing my name forever
I am Gawd Above, Lord God Almighty Mama

That is followed up by “Jericho,” a tune that could slip in on Whiskeytown’s Stranger’s Almanac and without giving you pause. It’s a mid-tempo number that is elevated by the simplest of flourishes – the intro of female vocals during the chorus. Her simple punch to the chorus makes the song truly majestic with voices blending like Adams and Cary. Brilliant.

“I Only Pray At Night” finds an introspective Fullbright alone with a piano. This is one of tunes that can cause a room to go deathly silent when played live. It demands your full attention.

That’s just three songs. There’s nine more left, all equally great in their own right. To say this this kid is on the fast track to success would not be going out on a limb. If you enjoy Joe Pug, Justin Townes Earle or Ryan Adams, then get From The Ground Up now. This is one of those stunning debut albums that immediately leaves you wanting more.

I first crossed paths with The Mastersons at SxSW 2011 at The San Jose. As I sat in the sun drinking micheladas, they cranked out the twang with boy/girl harmonies that made my heart swell. I plugged that name into the ol’ smart phone and promised that I would look them up when I got home. I never did, but thankfully our paths crossed again in Austin.

We visited the New West Records showcase at SXSW 2012 to catch one of our favorite new bands, Buxton. Due to a gap in our schedule, I met up with Oz about an hour before Buxton’s set and about 5 minutes into our conversation, The Mastersons hit the stage. One song in and I looked at Oz and asked “Didn’t we catch these guys last year? And didn’t we think they were awesome?”

Yep, we did and thankfully their debut followed soon after SxSW so that we didn’t forget this year. Fronted by the married couple of Chris Masterson & Eleanor Whitmore, The Mastersons put their expert musicianship and experience playing with Son Volt and Steve Earle to good use in crafting a gorgeous album of Americana in the vein of The Everybodyfields or The Jayhawks. Like The Everybodyfields, The Mastersons have a quality female and male vocalist that trade off the vocal responsibilities. And like The Everybodyfields, The Mastersons shine when the two vocals blend together.

There are a number of great tunes but the title track takes the cake for me. Its an acoustic number with Whitmore on lead vocals and Masterson lending the support. The song is about the displaced Texans missing their home state of Texas. They played this live in Austin and it stopped the audience in their tracks.

Friends, now that the secret of The Chubberoo has been exposed, I figure I will now be working it in to more and more posts, kind of like right now. Lucero playing Sounds Of The City w/ The Memphis Symphony Orchesta gives me a Chuberoo!!!!

I am going to let you in on a little HearYa secret. Sometimes when we get new music, I will remark to Oz that such and such band’s new song is giving me a Chubberoo. A Chubberoo is defined as a boner brought forth by great musical excitement. We’re still awaiting word from Webster’s if it will be added into this year’s dictionary. If nothing else, it is part of our lexicon. Either way, this is one of those times that I got a Chubberoo.

For those not in the know The AV Club has a great weekly series called Undercover where they invite bands to come in and perform a cover off a list of 25 songs.

When Trampled By Turtles were in town a few weeks back, they tweeted a pic of the famed round room at The AV Club. I emailed their manager Geoff to ask what they played. He emailed back that is was Rebellion (Lies). While I am far from the biggest Arcade Fire fan, I do love that song.

They played it that night at The Metro and I damn near wet my pants in excitement. In case you have not seen it for yourself, I am now giving you the opportunity to ruin a perfectly good pair of undies. I have watched this a couple of dozen times and am flat out amazed every single time. This is the year of the Turtles. Jump on board.

Trampled By Turtles covers Arcade Fire

I once said that it’s hard to put a price tag on Joe Pug’s music. I received his debut EP Nation of Heat in the mail while living in Northern California, shortly after moving away from Chicago. His debut LP Messenger arrived while living in Atlanta, shortly after leaving California. And now his sophomore LP, The Great Despiser, arrived after settling down in Kansas City. This journey, all over the course of just six years, has been one filled with emotions and experiences that range from the absolute best moments in my life to the absolute worst.

So maybe it’s the nature of my journey that drew me to Joe Pug’s music. I’m not sure that there’s a songwriter alive that instinctively understands the human condition quite like Joe Pug. His words have a magical ability to lead a listener to inner demons, self-discovery, healing, humility, and a healthy dose of laughter. Such is the case when I heard the last song on The Great Despiser, a Tex Thomas cover called “Deep Dark Wells.” Out of nowhere, as the song ended, I found myself reduced to tears.

You see, I don’t have a therapist and I’m not much of a talker when it comes to emotions. But over my six year journey, I’ve had my share of highs and lows. Celebration and tragedy. I married the love of my life, left one job for a better one, found myself in a lawsuit, saw the birth of my two beautiful kids, and stood by a family member during a difficult divorce. We also lost one member of our family to addiction. And then nearly another.

I was reflecting one day on these two brilliant, yet troubled people. I pictured the two men sitting at a table – a bottle sits between them. It has the capacity to kill them both. Don’t they understand? They both have one decision to make: live or die. Somehow, one man finds the strength to walk away. The other stays. One overcomes his demons and shows resilience. The other is engulfed in his burdens and leaves his family, this world, behind. I started to ask myself “Why?” and then I heard Joe’s acoustic and lyrics from “Deep Dark Wells” in my headphones:

From deep dark wells
Comes pure clean water
And the ice will melt
As the day gets hotter
And the night grows old
As the sun climbs into the sky

When now is then
And tomorrow’s coming
And where you’ve been
Starts meaning something
As long as you can
Just keep stumbling ahead

As long as you’re not finished
You can start all over again
As long as you’re not finished
You can start all over again
You can start all over again

Impeccable timing to surface some deep-seeded emotions.  Joe’s acoustic is accompanied by Greg Tuohey’s electric in a brief, subtle and gorgeous solo. The song is refreshing because it’s a motivational-type song, but without grand out-of-reach expectations. I fell in love with the line, “As long as you can, just keep stumblin’ ahead.” Does it get any simpler than that? It doesn’t have to be pretty and you may fall a time or two, but keep moving ahead. He repeats the chorus throughout the song, searing the message into into your being. “As long as you’re not finished, you can start all over again.” In fact, my emotions didn’t hit me until the third or fourth time I heard the chorus repeated. It felt like that scene in Good Will Hunting when Robin Williams kept saying to Matt Damon “It’s not your fault” over and over until he wet himself.

I think this is why Pug’s growing fan base is so loyal. We identify with his music in a very personal way and we feel a sense of kinship with him as a person – as if we’ve known him for years. And now, with the release of The Great Despiser, we’re treated to Joe’s best work to date. The album is surprisingly better in every possible way. His vocals are softer and more confident. His sound is fuller with help from a band consisting of an upright base and electric guitar. And I didn’t think it was possible, but his songwriting is much better with lyrics that are less literal, leaving more for interpretation by the listener. His lyrical prowess is immediately evident in the first lines of opening song, “Hymn 76.”

To meet me is to dare into the darkness
But if you are devoted to a dream
Go and light the lantern
leave your family abandoned
Meet me by the shallows of the stream
O meet me by the shallows of the stream

I would normally call out other standout tracks, but there’s no shortage of them. I asked a few friends over an email to name their favorite tune and each responded differently – Hymn 76, The Great Despiser, Silver Hearts and Violins, One of Many.

“One of Many” has become my favorite. It’s the most abstract from a lyrical standpoint and I find myself increasingly frustrated in trying to understand its meaning:

As the only child / for a hundred miles / living in the land of plenty
You could raise your cup / anytime you want / and never find it empty
But your plate was flush / and you had so much / while others had not any
As you lay in bed / well they shaved your head / now you’re one of many
O now you’re one of many

It was hard to breathe / when you knew no need / the crown it lay say heavy
At night you slept / underneath your bed / with both your pistols ready
But they stole your robes / and now your clothes / they won’t sell for a penny
You’re free to rest / your naked chest / now you’re one of many
O now you’re one of many

As a traveler / in the wider world / the road was never friendly
So you turned around / you were homeward bound / at the tender age of twenty
When you arrived / you cried to find / your mother had no memory
Once you were her only son/ Now, you’re one of many
O now you’re one of many

Joe Pug is the embodiment of all that’s good in music and I’m one of his most grateful fans. I can’t put a price tag on his music because it has been stitched into the fabric of my life since I first heard “Hymn 101″ off his Nation of Heat EP. My journey through life is different from yours, but we’re all on one and each comes with its share of ups and downs. If not Joe Pug, I hope that everyone has an artist, a song, or a note of music that makes the highs higher and helps cushion the falls.

The Great Despiser is out now, so feel free to pick it up. You’ll also find him touring all over the country. For more, check out our last session with Joe Pug for some free downloads and videos.

Joe Pug – One of Many