Live Review: Coal Palace Kings

Coal Palace Kings (USA)

10/27/05
Café Libertad, Leuven (B)

10/29/05
JH 't Slot, Wortel (B)

You All Gotta Go Down with the Coal Palace Kings

In the universe of Coal Palace Kings-chief Howe Glassman, a lot seems to revolve around the simple art of storytelling. By consequence, the artists that helped shaping the band into the unit they are today were rarely concerned with sonic innovation or stylistic revolution. Whether it's the simple heartbreak of Hank Williams, the noir-ish cool of Steve Wynn, the Gram Parsons-tributes of Sid Griffin or the tongue-in-cheek machismo of Eddie Spaghetti, it's all about having good stories and sharing them, preferably with some liquid sympathy and a like-minded barfly around. Primitive boasting, ass-grabbing and pissing contests aren't essential (but occasionally unavoidable) ingredients of these nights of turmoil that usually end with a big-ass hangover, but emotional scars, meaningful wrinkles and an eventful life certainly are. While the band's earliest work is more reminiscent of later, jangly Hüsker Dü (complete with explicit references to that band's Candy Apple Grey and a bunch of folk-pop melodies Grant Hart could've come up with), they steadily moved in a more straightforward, countrified direction, one that not necessarily traded in the decibels for softer sounds, but definitely shifted to older sources and influences. The band's latest album - Live at the Garden Grill (2003) - was the culmination of this, a beer-soaked collection of loosely performed originals and covers that almost seemed like a distant cousin of The Lost Weekend, a semi-legendary collaboration of Dream Syndicate/Green on Red/Long Ryders-members that was recorded during a two day drinking binge and receives Glassman's vote as "third best album of all time." You can imagine my surprise then, when the Coal Palace kings - having arrived in the morning and skipped a night's sleep - delivered a set that contained as much energy as their first four albums combined. Well, almost. Of course, the potential of the studio recordings (and the live album) was exploited by the addition of acoustic parts and traditional elements such as mandolin, banjo, steel guitar and fiddle. The shows I managed to catch were entirely electric and captured the intensity level the rowdier moments of Upstate only hinted at.

Perhaps it's the addition of two new members since the band recorded their live album. Guitarist Jason Hughes (who replaced Larry Winchester) and drummer Tim Hurst (who came in for Don Ackerman) are not only bringing the average age down, but they also seem to have increased the fierce energy the band displays on stage -they may play songs by Hank Williams, Buck Owens and Johnny Cash, but it's obvious hardcore country is not the only thing these guys grew up with, as Glassman's songs and his attitude are fuelled by punk rebellion, also reflected by the way in which he throws that Telecaster around. Bass player Jeff Sohn fulfils the "quieter, older, wiser guy"-part, but he does it with style, providing functional playing as well as backing vocals that give some of the songs the extra boost they needed and occasionally taking the lead (during his own "Stoneytown," for instance). When they played the Libertad, they launched into the first set with a string of songs I was already familiar with: the car tribute "Old Blue," "Cecil King" and "Stubborn" were already rendered energeticallym with especially Hughes slinging his guitar while standing duck-style like Chuck Berry and Hurst keeping a steady rhythm. The energy level even increased as the band dug in their catalogue and played originals that would kill their studio counterparts (a wonderful, hard-hitting "Gunshy" that benefits immensely from Sohn's backings, and a frenetic "Doreen" that could appeal to anyone with a love for pure rock & roll) as well as well chosen covers, both obscure (the raised middle finger of "Towncar," the Waco Brothers' "Harm's Way") as well as more profound (Williams, Cash). It was a terrific merger of that tradition and a more modern, raucous approach, as "Bend in the River" suggested there's something wrong with the title ("Punk in the River" is more like it) and "Whistle Stop" is the band's own "Mystery Train." Hughes unfortunately had to deal with some technical problems ("That's the altitude"), but the band's experience and especially Glassman's no nonsense-approach ensured that the happy few who managed to catch the Coal Palace Kings' first show on European soil was a small triumph of sincerity, craftsmanship and kick-ass rock & roll that culminated in the massive sounding cover of The Long Ryders' "Lewis and Clarke" fo which would've made Griffin and McCarthy proud. While the show at the Libertad was played in front of a small, but appreciative, audience, a lot more people showed up at 't Slot, and boy, they let themselves be heard. The beer flowed, the volume was cranked up, the Kings played a tight set (no broken strings) and even though Glassman is the only original member left in the band, they stood their like a true unit and rocked their asses off. Usually, I'm already pleased when a band lives up to the expectations their album(s) created,, but these guys easily surpassed that; the albums are good, but the stage is where the Coal Palace Kings belong, burning & swinging, kicking out the jams while singing songs for the dreamers & the losers, the drinkers & the rockers.