There are a lot of us. Like thirty. We play with groups of up to twenty people, mostly just groups of seven to thirteen. We sound like an idea. Below are some descriptions of things we might remind you of while you are listening to us. Our records are good, our live show is also good - we know how to have fun.
Descriptive words: sunset through your backyard windows, the labels on good whisky bottles, potion laboratories filled with vials and strangely shaped bottles in an old book or black and white film, a street musician on some Southern Street before there was radio on a Saturday afternoon with the too hot sun, kids and everyone gathered around - singing louder than the other musicians vying for a crowd. The great depression, dustbowl, aviator sunglasses,american sedans of the 1950's european race cars of the early 1960's,fracas, anarchy and a conversation with Marcel Duchamps, a Slayer show, a Fugazi show, people dancing slow and quiet, all stories written on paper by Flann O'Brien, riding horses at sunup, the TV Show Carnivale, the TV Show Deadwood, the TV Show Twin Peaks, laughter with large groups of people, spencer tunic photographs, laughing at ones body, the fog one feels on the heels of a four day bender, too much gin without the vomiting. limes, fresh cut flowers, smoking weed, driving too fast, grade school yard fights, thinking that you're understanding what's what when the sun goes down.
The Dough Rollers
The descriptor “roots revivalists” might conjure up an image of men with long beards, hunched over instruments—at least one of which is a jug—and bellowing heartfelt lyrics. Listening to the Dough Rollers, this image remains—there are gritty, pain-streaked vocals, expert fiddle playing, mandolin, guitar and occasionally, a washboard. But pull back the curtain and peek behind, and you’ll find a trio of fresh-faced 20-something New Yorkers creaking out covers of bluesy classics and conjuring up folksy originals. Vocalist/mandolin player Malcolm Ford, guitarist/vocalist Jack Byrne, and fiddler/vocalist and band-proclaimed “glue” Julia Tepper are bringing their revival south.
Brooklyn's leading cause of motion sickness! Ghost Pal is the experimental pop project of Oliver Ignatius and his band of merry men: guitar-slingers Justin Coles and Alex Da Silva, hammond-tootin' Dominic Coles, sax-man extraordinaire Henry Kandel, Carson Moody drumming and pounding all things audible, and Josh Barocas on the fender bass.
Watch out for their upcoming album, which they are currently recording in Oliver's own studio and Ghost Pal's home base, Mama Coco's Funky Kitchen.