Hearing The Black Keys and seeing their massive rise of success has been, well, kind of cute. What more can you say about a pair of dudes playing watered down blues-rock meant for Victoria's Secret ads and shitty frat parties? It's cute.
Me, I prefer a shot of the pure stuff. The raw, unfiltered skronk that burst from the deep South and has been echoing through the world for 70+ years. And to these ears, one of the best purveyors of down and dirty blues triumphalism is Steve Schecter. The former resident of Austin and The Dalles finally made the move to Portland and has been busying himself with monthly shows playing under the name Ghostwriter. Armed with only a beat up acoustic, some percussion pieces that he stomps at with his feet, and his ragged alcohol and cigarette tortured voice (that's just a guess...I've only ever seen him drink coffee), the man will blow your hair back if you witness him in person.
Once you've whet your appetite with this track, go see the man perform live this Thursday at The Know with the equally great Audios Amigos and DRC3.