Dan Melchior's Broke Revue
Sweet Mary Mother of Christ! If you've had an itch for...well, some good ol' fashioned rock 'n' roll for, say...well, the past 35 years, consider it scratched. That's provided you purchase the appropriately titled Heavy Dirt. (You'll have no one to blame but yourself if you don't, and we'll all pay for your mistake.) The Broke Revue are men who've truly loved early Brit "r&b" acts such as the Stones, the Who, the Faces, etc., and just like their mentors, this band has worked hard at studying their heroes, yet produced something influential and original in its own right. A fuzzy wall of cymbal & rhythm guitar, the desperately bloody fingers of a broken-beer-bottleneck slide and a singer who sounds like John Lydon. Whether he's preaching about "Fashion," snubbing Texas (get used to being misunderstood, Dan) or simply bitching endlessly about shit in general, English-born Dan Melchior (Billy Childish, Holly Golightly)has a Dick Lukas/chim-chiminey/Dickens curiosity shop owner/"Top off your drink, guvnor?" bedside manner. And it works.
How's 'bout we go through this somabitch track by track, because they've earned that. Or rather, let's just cut to the great tracks. "I Say What I Like (And I Like What I Say)," albeit a third of the way through the album, is where it begins for me. It's a two-beer buzz, barroom stomper, and heavy on the roll, please. Picture beginnings. Hitherto unrealized promise and potential. School dances where underage girls with too much makeup fall out of their bras and do the stroll. Guys wear pompadours and crushed-velvet jackets. Meanwhile the chaperones can only look on in lamentation, wishing they knew now what they didn't know then.
Moving right along to "I Was Born in the Country" (which obviously Mr. Melchior was?you don't create something this entertaining unless you grow up having to amuse yourself). Now here's a riff one can hang one's hat on. By the solo you're finishing your third beer (I know there's been a lot of beer already but stay with me), it's the middle of the afternoon and you are, preferably, floating down a river thinking about your fourth. Or at least dancing in the middle of the room. No feet, just hips. Either way, when people ask what the hell you're smiling about, you just smile bigger. Because at this moment, life is perfect.
Which brings us directly to "Loveyougirl," a song as glam as its name implies. But only in an "Oh, shit! Iggy's wearing mascara!" kind of way. They've still got mud on the bottom of their shoes. And finally (though there's a third left at this point) the album finishes strong with "Creepin' Shakes," where the vocals and the lead guitar match up a la classic Faces, then drive it home as hard as Zeppelin. I can hear it right now in my head as I write, and although I've never seen them live, it's enough to ensure I won't be anywhere else the night of the next Broke Revue show. As opposed to the rock coming out of Williamsburg (which, like the White Stripes, always sounds more indie to me), these boys do NYC, the East Village, the bleedin' Queen of England and themselves proud. It's the real deal. Let's not miss out.