STOUT

Few places (if any) in the world can claim a musical legacy as rich in artistry and diversity as Memphis. The hardscrabble city on the banks of the Mississippi is arguably the birthplace of blues, soul, gospel, and rock music. It is also the home of Stout. Comprised of a five distinct and eclectic musicians and personalities which drummer Robert Kamm describes as "equal components of a functioning carnival," Stout was formed in 2002 from the remnants of one band—Kamm, bassist Rory Gardner, keyboardist/vocalist "Junior" Schuster, and guitarist/vocalist Matt Oliver - and the addition of percussionist Tony Walsh. Much like the city where they started, the five members of Stout are unpretentious and genuine. They spent their first summer together playing outside on Beale Street, working out early set lists by gauging the reaction of passersby. Rare is the Stout show, in whatever city, that doesn't end with post-gig drinks with friends and fans. Stout's ability to connect with an audience, though, begins when they take the stage. Although serious about their musicianship (and talented players individually), Stout is a "functioning carnival." Their straight-ahead rock and roll is infused with the testimonial fire of blues and soul, making their shows cathartic, sweat-soaked, and memorable gatherings. In less than a year, Stout’s incessant touring has earned them an ever larger grassroots following in the Southeast, making believers out of disparate audiences, be it opening for alt-rock legends Violent Femmes or playing a biker bar in Mississippi - the crowd of two hundred keeping their backs to the band. "But they stayed," says Kamm. Now, they've released their debut CD On The Rocks, self-produced by the band with assistance from Willie Pevear, recorded in Memphis and mastered at the renowned Ardent Studios - a dozen tracks kick started by the loose, gospel-inflected "Down By The Riverside." Driven by Schuster's relentless, rollicking keyboards, the song addresses the issue of racial tension—something the band has witnessed first-hand in their hometown. It's a difficult subject, but Stout tackles it simply and earnestly, offering no answers, merely a view, while never forgetting the groove. On The Rocks is populated by odd characters the band has met along the way, like the titular "poet of Arkansas" at the end of the bar on "Jackspeare." The song moves along briskly, building momentum to a frenzy of percussion, piano, and guitar during the bridge. They slow things down, temporarily, on the smoldering "The Crow And The Monkey," Oliver’s dirty blues guitar and throaty, powerful vocal giving conviction to the rumination on vices, offered as an Aesopian fable. Walsh's percolating percussion and some breezy harmonica (courtesy of Junior) gives a devil-may-care attitude to the manic blues/funk workout "Harmony In Dreams," with Stout's rhythm section of Kamm and Gardner – as always - providing the backbone. And the uplifting "The Family" is a soulful testament to the power of the ties - both blood and forged - that holds everything together. With On The Rocks, Stout has announced themselves as a high-octane musical force with which to be reckoned. It's an opening toast with serious mojo to which the ghosts of Memphis would certainly drink. Welcome to the carnival.