The Meat Purveyors - Someday Soon Things Will Be Much Worse!

Genre bluegrass Publisher Bloodshot Records External Links Official The Meat Purveyors Website Official Bloodshot Records Website

If we were to believe all that their website would have us to, The Meat Purveyors are, "Whiskey-fueled and case-hardened deep in the heart of Texas, [with] a personal history that would shame Fleetwood Mac, and wood shedding that sends so-called roots revivalists, snooty bluegrass purists, and alt-country poseurs into paroxysms of self-doubt and years of expensive therapy." Heavy words for a band whose fourth album contains almost one-third covers. It is an unfortunate circumstance that Texas bluegrass generally leaves something to be desiredïbut, really, what is bluegrass without a banjo? Some would say a travesty. Comparing TMP to Fleetwood Mac (and their history) is something like comparing Flak (a small-venue local band from Kansas City, Missouri) to Zeppelin. Even with as much light-hearted ego as one band could muster, the comparison is preposterous - with maybe even a hint of idiocy. "Paroxysms of self doubt and years of expensive therapy"? Listen, we all understand that the website is supposed to sell records and the band, but for exactly how long are we supposed to tolerate borderline-musically-blasphemous hyperbole?

With that being said, it is easy to begin understanding what the band is attempting to do. There is little doubt that bluegrass has been on the downhill slide since the nineteen-thirties, or perhaps the fall of the South; however, there are those who would keep the tradition alive, and for good reason (Yonder Mountain String Band is a good example). The bluegrass tradition is steeped with the remnants of dance music and ballads from Ireland, Scotland and England, as well as African American gospel music and blues. It is difficult to imagine how such a combination is not going to stir something of a "Holy shit, would you listen to that?" in all of us. Irish, Scottish and English ballads are some of the oldest and most respected ballads in all the world, and if you don't understand yet that modern rock is built almost entirely from the old Delta blues-men and jazz musicians of African gospel descent, then it is this humble author's suggestion that you ditch your no-doubt stuffy under-a-rock shelter and hit the music history books.

It is within these very same history books that The Meat Purveyors are aiming to leave their mark; and truthfullyly, they may not be far off - in their original songs. There's a distinct down-south appeal and honesty in the lyrics:

"I don't like the look on your face/I don't like the cut o' your jib/I don't like the things that you said or the things you did/I don't like the friends you pal around with/Or what you done to the place/And most of all, I don't like the look on your face..."

Or even:

"My wife won't be home 'til quarter to four/Can you give me a ride to the liquor store?"

This originality falls apart somewhere around the mark where they - dare I say - heist lyrics from the theme to M*A*S*H in "666 Pack": "The game of life is hard to play, and I'm going to lose it anyway." Overall, their orginal lyrics have all of the potential to be sincerely witty and genuinely intriguing--with dashes of crushed red pepper ("Don't be sorry, just be gone") and a sprinkling of lemon pepper ("Don't look at the hanged man") ï one of the few "electric" tracks on the album.

When covering songs whose welcome has long-since been worn out (Foreigner's "Hot Blooded" for example), you get the sense that the Purveyors are simply putting out a record for the sake of putting out a new record, instead of wanting to present an album that displays their full originality. In a live album or, later down the line, a greatest hits album, consuming one third of the tracks with covers might be acceptable - even ironically chic - but on small-scale-production fourth album at a time when they are still struggling to carve a niche, let alone define a themselves, it is puzzling that they would expend one third of their energy doing seemingly half-baked covers.

Musically, their honed talents and impressive abilities are undeniable. The guitar is intricate and developed, the mandolin twangs out and in with the consistency of Jell-O brand pudding, and the stand-up bass keeps amazing time for the lead singer, more than compensating for the void left by a lack of the genre-constant banjo - this finely-crafted assault gives The Meat Purveyors a fat (albeit not "phat") sound, bringing everything one expects from a bluegrass band in spades.

Were the lead vocalist to be in the midst of one of her fabled liquor-runs and leave the band to its own devices, the instrumental strength alone would fetch a hefty trade of a solid three-and-one-half stars. However, with one-too-many belted claims of being "hot blooded" and piercing cries to "keep them plates a'spinning," the Meat Purveyors may impress with their versatility, but will leave the distinct aftertaste of dish with maybe just one too many ingredients.