Livin': Sweet Tee: Southern Brand Launches with “Lil’ Ones” Line
The hillbillies are headin' to the big city. New York, that is.
We're takin' our wares up to the ENK Children's Club show in NYC, October 5-7. We'll be launchin' some sweet southern tees for them lil' boll weevils, followed by Southern Belle and Southern Man lines for grown folks in the next month or so.
We figured there weren't enough people out there makin' the kinda shirts we were always lookin' for. The kinda tees that feel like they been washed a thousand times with love by your mama, then hung to dry on the clothesline out back, just swayin' in the fresh summer breeze. T-shirts that are simple, bold, and uniquely southern. Not all that crazy, over the top printing on every inch including the armpit of the too-tight fashion tee. And not all that rebel flag, south's-gonna-do-it-again-southern that somehow seems to be all ya get when you google "southern t-shirts". We wanted to create a line for the Southern that we know. Small town America. Life through amber-tinted glasses. The sweet, smoky taste of some real pit BBQ. The steely sound of a slide guitar. The rumble of an old pick-up truck down a muddy dirt road. Sittin' on the front porch sippin' sweet tea, spittin' watermelon seeds and pickin' a tune. A brand built on truth, integrity and pride. Built on fillin' a need. By makin' the clothes we want to wear ourselves. Clothes we believe in. Premium quality. Classic American design. An honest product at an honest price.
We hope you enjoy wearing them as much as we do making them.
And if for some reason you don't, send 'em back, we'll wear 'em.
The skinny on Southern Brand Tees:
These T-shirts are made from sweet, soft cotton. From the dirt. Up outta the earth. They got some sun in 'em too. And some soul. We put 'em through an extensive vintage wash process which produces distinctive weathering and classic color resulting in a true vintage look and a super soft feel. They feel like your favorite shirt that you been wearing for years or one that's been passed down through all the kids in the family. 'Cept it's new outta the box. The new and improved hand-me-down, ya'll.
We're launchin' three "collections" (tryin' to bone-up on our fashion speak.) You can check 'em out by clicking the banner ad to your left. There's "Woodtype", that pays tribute to the old letter press show posters that musicians used for promoting their shows throughout the south. There's "Animal Farm", an homage to those noble critters a whole bunch of us grew up with. And there's Highway 61, full-up with sayings and imagery from the Mississippi Delta and on up the "Blues Highway". Just wholesale right now, ask your neighborhood general store to carry 'em. Retail comin' soon.
The Blues and good ol' southern music is what fuels us 'round here at Southern Brand, so we're trying to do our share to keep that great American tradition alive. We've teamed up with the fine folks at the Music Maker Foundation , and we're donating a part of our proceeds to 'em so they can do the great work that they do, gettin' Blues artists food to eat, medical care and help with the daily grind - while spreading the news of the blues and educating people in this special and poetic American art form.
It's more about where your head's at than where your feet are at.
We figure it don't matter if you live south of the Mason-Dixon line, or have never set foot near the muddy banks of the Mississippi, long as you have and appreciation for some of this stuff, you're a friend of ours. Welcome friends.
Posted in Livin'
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Music: Band Ya Oughta Know: High On Stress
Every so often we'll try bending yer ear about a band that ya oughta know about, need to know about or just might darn near improve the quality of your life.
High On Stress is our inaugural artist and not just cause their name describes our current situation. Outta Minneapolis - with lyrics that cut through the haze of a Wednesday night at the bar and make you sit up and feel like someone is commiserating with you.
"It's a cash machine advance, don't it make you wanna dance?" Go the lyrics and the music is just right. You listen harder. "Red-eyed girls - go home in fancy cars - after all night parties drinking at the hip hop bars" and then - "Half is spent before the you pay the rent - half is spent before the money is sent -- it's a cash machine advance -- don't it make you wanna dance?" Aw, c'mon now, this is good.
Singer, songwriter and guitarist Nick Leet writes these great tough songs while Mark Devaraj handles drums, and Jim Soule on bass guitar and backing vocals and Chad Wheeling on guitar and organ gloriously fill out the foursome. This is more rock than country but it's mined from that vein that we all love about good country music. Leet, a refugee on the run from North Dakota, (which he describes on one song as full of "cover bands, bad punk rock and things that I can't stand") manages the feel of alt. rock while holding onto a rather large (to these big ol' ears) classic country influence.
I hear The Replacements in there, and I hear Wilco. I hear Uncle Tupelo, I hear that Americana sound wraslin' with those indie rock influences in a cage match reffed by great big catchy choruses.
I hear the sound that plays as a pretty college girl tells you her problems with SoCo on her breath on her hundredth desperate-fun night at a bar. I hear the sound of making sense of it, when what pours out of the speakers between beers 3 and 7 is perfect and you're invincible and you understand the whole sad world.
In High On Stress I hear music for a good but serious time. Tied up in knots and keeping the tempo light. A quick look through their myspace tells you that critics have taken notice of the way their lyrics and images pop out at you like countrified U2.
Their first album, Moonlight Girls, is full-up with 'heart on sleeve and heat of the moment'. A new band with influences varied enuff and talent big enuff that it always doesn't sound like someone else, it just sounds like your favorite new song comin' on the jukebox.
Their new album Cop Light Parade is out now. Those great new songs are already out there in the ether, after being snuck to friends and on myspace. We actually got us a CD here at Southern Brand, and have 'bout worn it out. The whole thing is great but stand-out tracks include White Sugar, My White Pages, Partner in Crime and We Could Have Been Nobody. (ya can buy it at CDbaby.com by clicking here)
This here is the kind of American goodness that'll keep your toes tappin' and heart beatin' while you're reminiscing 'bout all them lost and crazy whiskey-soaked nights - real or imagined. Keep 'em flying fellas.
Posted in Music
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Eatin'/Livin': Coop’s Favorite NYC Waterin’ Holes
The clip above is the promo for a new reality series in development by Jake Catchpole.
It's easy to get lonesome and lovesick in our nation's big bad cities. And every time I step out to New York City for a bit of big city bidness, I get a lil homesick and wind up walkin' after midnight like a ghost from a Patsy Cline song. They say you're never really in a city till you've had a drink there, but NYC is so full of uptight waterin' holes with doormen givin' you the stink eye, it's not easy for a country boy to know where to drown his sorrows.
So consider this a Southern Brand primer on a few joints that put a bit of country back in the city, in a genuine and heartfelt way. No corporate rat traps here, just rowdy people, cold beer and JD on ice. I'll name 6 joints. Good and bad. Half I tried and half I heard about and aim on visitin' next time around. Feel free to chime in buckaroos. Ready? Saddle up.
Red Rock West Saloon
457 W. 17th St., New York, NY 10011
www.redrockwestsaloon.com
On NYmag.com, Henry Tenney wrote, "When you walk into Red Rock West you think, 'I might get my ass kicked in this place' "— and went on about how it becomes a hillbilly burlesque show with dancing barmaids spitting shots into customers' mouths. And sure enough, smack dab in the middle of fancy pants Chelsea is what The New York City Bartenders & Patron Guide's says is consistently the wildest bar to make it onto nycbp.com.
Now, me, having had my shirt torn off by the bartenders in there, having had shots poured straight in my mouth there, having met quite a few darlin's there, having seen every single gal in the place - including wall street lawyers, lady cops and female Harley riders - all clog dancing on the flaming bar to the sounds of the Charlie Daniels Band, I can honestly say it's like nothing else in New York City, and like no place I (and in all likelihood, you) ever been.
All those girls that ran away from your hometown cause they were too great too be contained wind up here, as redneck bartender superheroes. Whatever you do, don't mention Coyote Ugly, unless you want a beer bottle broken over your head. They hate that corporate evil thing there. And DON'T touch the girls, the place has some mean-ass bouncers. I know about them too. Don't ask.
Doc Holiday's
Manhattan/East Village
141 Avenue A
New York, NY 10009
Alphabet City ain't no joke boy, you got about a hundred different people that look like they've completly lost their way, and they're on every corner, intermingling with all the pretty folk making the New York scene. And in the middle of all that is a bar pumping David Allen Coe and Billy Joe Shaver with that familiar aroma of dirt, sweat and Natty light. Cowboy boots and western ephemera everywhere it looks like a joint lifted straight outta Southwest Texas. You got your college kids in there lookin' to get their hurt on them $5 dollar 'all the beer you can drink' Tuesday nights. You got your $2 PBR's and at Happy Hour you got your 2 for 1. Way I figure it, that's a buck a Pabst. C'mon now New York.
Standing at the bar and by the pure country jukebox are the regulars. Ornery, down on their luck, out-for-kicks-or-thrills, outlaws lookin' for a dust-up, who could give a hoot 'bout the frat kids who find this "quaint" and "invigoratin". If yer young and fulla piss and vinegar, it's a blast. If you're older and you been around some, you can probably sense there's danger in the air. 'Cause there is. But it's worth doin'. A drink or two and then travel on, cause ain't much good gonna come out of this. Still gotta be done at least once. If you're fearless and don't mind throwin' the bones, hang out all night. You'll get a story or two outta it.
Rodeo Bar
375 3rd Ave
New York, NY 10016
www.rodeobar.com
Now I don't know nuthin' firsthand about Rodeo Bar - I think I was there one time to see Lee Rocker (fella that used to be in Stray Cats, helluva rockabilly wildman) bang the heck out a standup bass and rock the place like a real memphis hillbilly - but truth be told, I was more than a few Lone Stars into the night when I arrived or as I heard a city boy from Boston once say, ' was half in the bag, man, wicked pissed.'
But I remember tryin' to text message to Ray Ray to the rockabilly beat. I remember it was a country-ass place in the middle of the world capitol of city-ass slick. Now according to Drew Pisarra at citysearch NYC Rodeo Bar is a roots enthusiast's dream, featuring local and national honky-tonk, alt-country, bluegrass and rockabilly acts every night of the week and "real Texas BBQ". Yes, the Tex-Mex decor is fetchin'. The bar, built into a converted horse trailer, serves Lone Star and Negra Modelo in bottles. A good time, but best when a band is playin'. Which is every night at some point I guess.
Trailer Park Lounge NYC
Trailer Park Lounge
www.trailerparklounge.com
271 W 23rd St
New York, NY 10011
Waitresses that look like that sexy 'ol Bettie Page (or was that Patti Page?) I'm not sure if this place is celebrating us or makin' fun of us. But they got Champagne in a Can and Tator Tots. The menu also had moonpies and mac and cheese on it as well as a veggie burger (?). It's across the street from the Chelsea Hotel. Which is historic all right, but best of all it's next to Rub BBQ.
Rub BBQ
208 W 23rd St
New York, NY 10011
Yup across the street from Trailor Park, more or less, is some of the best BBQ in NYC. Here's tha Rub. (sorry) There's this fella, lives in Brooklyn - goes by the handle WhitetrashBBQ on blogger and he writes real good bout BBQ in NYC (and BBQ elsewhere too). He laid it down on what he calls the BBQ triangle:
"The other night me and old friend, Peter Vermaelen, and corporate chef Mark Slutsky, both of McCain Foods, went to RUB for part of our grazing through New York City's downtown barbecue triangle. What's the downtown barbecue triangle? Well, it's the triangle formed by RUB, Hill Country NY and Blue Smoke. All three are within walking distance and make a great BBQ crawl. (More on that later!) And yes, there are other BBQ triangles in NYC." Further readin' is on his blog, just click here.
Dinosaur Barbecue
www.dinosaurbarbque.com
646 W 131st St
New York, NY 10027
Now, I been in New York City a whole gaggle of times but I ain't always made it to the best BBQ joints. I've stared dumbfounded as my city friends went to town on BBQ'd eel, while I fumbled with those fiddle sticks. I've sipped cold-ass rice wine and puked on those damn Cosmos tryin' to pick up a Sara Jessica type gal (She said my boots didn't "make it for her", whatever that means). Most of the time I'm eatin' in NY, I get a hotdog, or I get an apple and a Coffee - Regular while I walk down the street. I feel like McCloud when I'm out there. But even a lost cowboy has heard about Dinosaur BBQ in Harlem. I never been there, like I said, big city friends would rather take me out to "arty shows" where some dude with only one name (usually a name like Gotan or somethin' who is actually a refugee from Missouri) has cut up a cow and called it art. Which, hell, it might be if it was smoked for 14 hours and served up with some cheddar cheese, pickle slices, raw onion and white bread. But anyway, Ray Ray lived off of the grub at the original Dinosaur BBQ up in Syracuse in the early 90's. Says he went in 170 lbs. soakin' wet, came out four years later, 205 sweatin' sauce. He still orders the "slatherin' sauce" from their site.
Well that's my take on the Southern side of NYC, if you got any tips for me, gimme a holler.
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Music: Mescalito - Ryan Bingham
Sounds like whiskey. You know what I mean. Aged. Smokey. Sweet but with a bit of a burn. Drivin' music. Here's a review from popmatters.com:
The first thing that strikes you about Ryan Bingham is his voice. Only 25, Bingham has lived a hardscrabble life, leaving home early and making his around the southwestern rodeo circuit, traveling and getting by. So the Texas twang comes naturally, as does the gravel in his voice. And there’s a lot of gravel in his voice. Sometimes, it sounds like it must be painful.
Produced by former Black Crowes guitarist Marc Ford, Mescalito wisely puts Bingham’s voice and lyrics up front, taking full advantage of their dustiness. The opening track “Southside of Heaven”, dominated by windswept harmonica and punctuated by pedal steel and mandolin, evokes trains, family estrangement, and loneliness, and kicks the album off on a strong footing. The up tempo standout track “Bread and Water” lists Bingham’s road experiences atop a heavy backbeat, boot stomps, handclaps, and slide guitar. “Boracho Station” features south-of-the-border acoustic guitar and alternates Spanish and English lyrics. Several of Mescalito‘s songs indicate that Bingham might well be an artist to watch.
Check this out:
Mescalito - Ryan Bingham (CD - Amazon.com)
Posted in Music
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Film: Searching For The Wrong-Eyed Jesus
Searching For The Wrong-Eyed Jesus is a thought-provoking road trip through the American South - a world of Churches; prisons; coalmines; truckstops; juke joints; swamps; and mountains. Along the way we encounter various musicians, including the Handsome Family, Johnny Dowd, 16 Horsepower and David Johansen; old time banjo player Lee Sexton; Rockabilly and Mountain Gospel churches; and novelist Harry Crews telling grisly stories down a dirt track. The film is a collage of stories and testimonies, almost invariably of sudden death, sin or redemption: Heaven or Hell, with no middle ground. And all the while, a strange Southern Jesus looms in the background. 'Alt Country' singer Jim White reflects upon exactly what it is about this baffling place that inspires musicians annd writers, whilst at the same time working through his own preoccupations with his muse - or, as he puts it, 'trying to find the gold tooth in God's crooked smile'. Continue Reading...
Posted in Film
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