04.19.13 — 00.17 — Friday morning — Hotel Mercure, Tilburg

I was early to the Green Room, which is the middle-sized space at the 013. The first band on for Roadburn 2013 would be Black Bombaim, and if you’ve been here before, you know the crowds are serious and that if you’re not careful, you can wind up watching an act through an open doorway — which also happened to me more than once throughout the course of the evening. Plenty on time to see Black Bombaim, though, and no regrets for taking the head-first dive into jamming European heavy psychedelia, instrumental meandering to the cosmos. Man, all of a sudden it was a hell of an afternoon.

They were, as was somewhat expected, blissed right out, all-natural, all-jam, immediate swirl. The day had other starts on other stages, but for me, this was what it was about. I was stocked to watch them after digging last year’s Titans and 2010′s Saturdays and Space Travels (review here), and Tojo‘s bass tone served as an immediate reminder of why I can’t get enough of this kind of thing. Warm, grooving and perfectly suited to the band’s extended wandering progressions, I couldn’t have asked for more than I got as a way to kick off this year’s Roadburn. Watching guitarist Ricardo signal changes to drummer Senra, the whole thing had a very organic, very spontaneous vibe, and that’s just what you want. The first song was a little rough, but after that, they settled into a solid groove and stayed there.

Today was a fair amount of running around — less than some, more than others. Pallbearer were on the Main Stage shortly, and after the heavy dose of salivating they got in the US last time I saw them in New York with Enslaved (whose own Grutle Kjellson was kicking around here at some point today, seemingly just to hang out and why not?), I was curious to see how the Euro crowd would respond. Answer: Much the same. I knew what to expect in terms of performance, as it wasn’t that long since I last saw the band, but they still didn’t disappoint, and thinking about it in hindsight after seeing them on this stage, which is sizable to say the least, they were cramped at Bowery Ballroom. Tonally and in terms of presence, they more than held their own as a main stage act, which for only having one record out is all the more exciting.

Most of what they played I recognized from that record, early 2012′s Sorrow and Extinction (review here), and seeing them again, it was easier to get a sense of the four-piece’s live dynamic, Brett Campbell holding down the drama on guitar and vocals while bassist Joseph D. Rowland and guitarist Devin Holt bang their heads like they’re trying to get them to come off on the other side of the stage, and behind, drummer Mark Lierly steadily holding songs together and adapting fluidly to what would otherwise be stark tempo changes. The contrast of Rowland and Holt to Campbell is striking, but it makes Pallbearer a richer experience to watch. They’ve certainly had no shortage of hype around them since cropping up, but whatever else you might say about them and however loudly or emphatically you might say it, they’re well on their way to becoming a really great live act. Hopefully they continue to tour and carve out their sound and chemistry on the road.

Now, at every Roadburn, you’re going to see some things that you’ve never seen before and you’ll probably never see again. And even the stuff you have seen before — like tonight’s headliners, Primordial, for example, who came though NYC years back on the first Paganfest — is special here. Bands play better, play different material, and for an American coming over, it’s a chance to see European acts who probably aren’t going to be touring the States anytime soon. I say this so you understand why I left Pallbearer to go back and watch more of Black Bombaim. Since there’s so much going on at every fest, sometimes you have to make hard choices, and I almost always try to lean toward that which I’m less likely to run into later on or that which I’ve never seen before.

However, the Green Room was full to capacity and then some, so I wound up standing in the hallway in a cluster of people to watch for a couple minutes and then hit up the merch area across the way. I’d figured on picking up some discs and was pleased to find a host of Nasoni stuff again at the Exile on Mainstream table, including Johnson Noise and Vibravoid, as well as Burning World Records discs from The Angelic Process and Slomatics. Later on, I’d roll back through and grab more CDs from Svart and finally get a copy of The Midnight Ghost Train‘s Buffalo (review here) on CD. It wasn’t long though before I had to be back at the Main Stage for the start of Penance. Vocalist Lee Smith prefaced their set by saying it was the first time they’d played together since 1993, which math tells me was 20 years ago.

Don’t get me wrong, I like Butch Balich-era Penance a lot. I thought Spiritualnatural was a killer record and Proving Ground still kicks my ass on occasion, but 1994′s Parallel Corners, with the lineup of Smith on vocals, guitarist Terry Weston, bassist Rich Freund and drummer Mike Smail has to be their high-point. The Pittsburgh natives resided at exactly the juncture where doom becomes metal, and with a riffy looseness and ultra-straightforward Sabbath-loving ethic, cuts like “Crosses” and “Words Not Deeds” brought out more than a fair share of righteous grooves. Both of those were standouts of their set — “Crosses” I took as a personal favor though I’m sure it wasn’t one — though long breaks between songs and surprisingly quiet banter from Smith seemed to undercut the momentum their riffs were building when they were actually playing, so it was hard for them to get on a roll.

No-frills trad doom, Penance nonetheless got their point across in beefy riffs utterly lacking in pretense. I checked in on Blues Pills in the Green Room from the hallway, and they seemed to be holding it down with no trouble, so I wandered back into the Main Stage area in time to catch “Words Not Deeds” round out the Penance set. From there, it was back to the Green Room to catch Pilgrim, who started early following a guitar and bass classic rocking-type jam during the setup that I’d be interested to hear them take elements from for their next album, which reportedly is in the works. They played new material and cuts from 2012′s Misery Wizard debut like the immediately recognizable lumber of opener “Astaroth,” and not at all surprisingly, had the Green Room packed out the door. I don’t know if the Rhode Island trio are friends with the dudes in Pallbearer or what, but that’s a tour that should probably happen at some point. I’ve seen Pilgrim four times now since they put out that album, and they’ve only gotten stronger as a live act.

Though, to be fair, they did seem a little amped up at the start of their set, but the muscle memory kicked in before they were through the first song — you could actually see it — and they were locked in thereafter. I took pictures and then started to make my way through the crowd to watch from the back, and before I knew it, had kind of a, “Well shit, now what?” moment when the only place to be was outside the room. The answer to that question was “dinner.” I started to head out and get something to eat on the quick when I saw Gravetemple were just getting ready to hit the Main Stage for their start. With a lineup of a pedigree like that of Stephen O’Malley, Oren Ambarchi and Attila Csihar, popping my head in seemed like the least I could do on my way by. Csihar stood in front of a table of who knows what kind of manipulation devices, while O’Malley and Ambarchi came in soon enough on drone guitar. It was super-artsy in that particularly O’Malley kind of way, a different take on some of SunnO)))‘s atmospheres with Csihar‘s vocals providing a distinguishing element along the way. I dug it, but time was a factor, so I moved on to get a bite to eat.

Wound up with some salad, fish and plain pasta which I mixed in with the greens and the dill dressing. It was the first thing I’ve really eaten since I got on the plane that wasn’t a protein bar, and — here’s something that’s not at all shocking — I felt much better afterwards. My brain was like, “Dude, you’re the worst at life. You probably should’ve had a meal yesterday, jerk,” and I tried to argue back but there’s really no talking to that guy, so whatever. The salad was glorious in context for being just an ordinary salad, and though I got a piece of clam stuck in my tooth, the mixed fish was most welcome too. Nothing like actual protein drawing a direct comparison to the would be substitutes for it. By the time I was done, I felt like someone had just given me a piece of particleboard with macaroni glued onto it in the shape of the cover to Volume 4, and by that I mean ready to take on the world. This was fortunate, because High on Fire were getting ready to go on the Main Stage and play The Art of Self Defense front to back.

Or maybe they weren’t getting ready. They kind of took their time coming out from the back, but with a backdrop behind them modified from the album’s original cover from its 2000 release on Man’s Ruin, High on Fire stormed — what else would they do, really? — through the riffy sludge of their first record in a manner befitting its grooving bombast. “10,000 Years” and “Blood from Zion” still feature in their set on the regular (they were aired when I saw the band in Philly late last year), but to get a song like “Fireface” out and have bassist Jeff Matz start off its viscous slog, it was a treat the three-piece seemed to enjoy as well, guitarist/vocalist Matt Pike cutting smiles every now and again between solos and the galloping riffs that started it all for the band. Tucked away in the back, drummer Des Kensel punctuated the stomp of “Last” and “Master of Fists” made for a suitably riotous finish, deconstructing at the end to leads and noise.

But they weren’t done. The bonus tracks from the 2001 Tee Pee Records reissue were also included, including the punkish rush of “Steel Shoe” and the Celtic Frost cover “The Usurper,” which Pike called the encore before they started. The room was the most packed out I’d see it the whole day, and it was the first complete set I watched. Elsewhere, other bands were playing, other special gigs taking place, but how could I not watch High on Fire do The Art of Self Defense? In reception, the crowd was unanimous in fervent approval — heads banged, fists pumped, madmen shouted along to Pike‘s long-heralded battle cries — and particularly as the last High on Fire studio outing, De Vermis Mysteriis (review here) was so crisp and tight, it was striking to hear them take on the earlier material. Almost like they were letting their hair down a bit, though as anyone who heard that record can tell you, they’ve hardly lost their edge in the decade-plus since the first record came out.

Rounding out with “The Usurper,” High on Fire still finished early, a good 15 minutes before their scheduled end. I guess there’s only so much album to play. Fair enough. I took notes in my fancypants license place notebook and went back to the merch to pick up some more of the aforementioned odds and ends, and then headed back to the big room in plenty of time for the start of Primordial, who if nothing else were the most thoroughly fronted act I’ve seen so far. The Irish double-guitar five-piece were helmed by vocalist Alan “Nemtheanga” Averill, who came out with a bottle of Jameson and a bottle of wine and was through the better part of both by the time their 90 minutes were done, and from his stage makeup — that’s not to say corpsepaint, because it wasn’t really corpsepaint — and costuming to his intense on-stage persona, Averill positively owned the 013. I saw Primordial years back when they came through New York on the PaganFest tour (it was a lot of glockenspiels to get to a Primordial set, but worth it), so I knew just how much of a factor the performance element was, but like many before him, the singer stepped up his game to match the occasion, and in a space so large, it was an impressive feat of showmanship.

He also noted more than once from the stage that it was the band’s first time playing Roadburn, and made it clear he felt they were overdue in this — provocateur, I suppose, could be part of the role, but either way — and I wondered if perhaps he was putting in a bid for curator next year. That would assure Pilgrim a return slot (Averill released Pilgrim‘s Misery Wizard via his Poison Tongue imprint through Metal Blade Records), and I wouldn’t mind seeing them take on 2007′s To the Nameless Dead in its entirety, were it in the offing. His other band, the nascent and doomier Dread Sovereign, also play tomorrow, so there’s room to work with, I guess. In the meantime, this set touched on To the Nameless Dead and several others in Primordial‘s seven-album discography, beginning with “No Grave Deep Enough” from 2011′s Redemption at the Puritan’s Hand (review here) and spanning genres as much as full-lengths, running from post-black metal to Celtic-inspired progressions and keeping at times a doomly edge, particularly on newer material like “The Mouth of Judas” or “Cities Carved in Stone,” which closed 2005′s The Gathering Wilderness.

That LP’s title-track and “The Coffin Ships” also featured, the latter penultimate to To the Nameless Dead opener “Empire Falls,” with which they closed. In introducing “The Coffin Ships,” Averill mentioned it was about the Irish famine in the 1800s, and said they were bringing a bit of their history and culture to the here and now. By all accounts I’ve seen, he does seem to think of Primordial‘s music as a sort of ambassadorship — they were very much representing the Republic of Ireland on stage — and though I wondered if maybe there was anyone in the audience who hadn’t already heard of the famine, the song left little to want. Averill had slowed some by then, less foot on the monitor, less back and forth from one end of the stage to the other, tossing around the mic stand, calling everyone present including the band lazy cunts, and so on, but revived with “Empire Falls,” letting adrenaline carry him through the end of the set as he got on his knees and shouted the chorus at the somewhat-dwindled but still strong crowd, who were only too glad to return the favor.

So the headliners were done, but the night still had its closing acts to go. Averill had plugged fellow Irishmen Mourning Beloveth‘s set at Het Patronaat a couple times, and former Hawkwind/Meads of Asphodel bassist Alan Davey was doing Space Ritual in full on the Main Stage, but what I really wanted to see was The Midnight Ghost Train, who were playing at Stage01, formerly known as the Bat Cave, the smallest of the three rooms at the 013. It was full by the time I walked over, and I probably could’ve stood there and gotten bumped into again, and again, and again, but after 16 or 17 times, I started to get claustrophobic and had to get out. Much to my surprise, the band followed not long behind me.

Guitarist/vocalist Steve Moss, drummer Brandon Burghart and yet another new bassist walked through the crowd and out of the room. From my spot in the back, I got to say hi to both, and Burghart explained they were doing a stagger-on, one member at a time. Moss had left his guitar feeding back, so there was a steady hum, and I suppose walking back through the audience (no backstage to come out from) there was something of a delay, so that went long, but once their crazed, blues-infused rock got going, the full room of people there to see them had no trouble getting on board for the wild shuffling riffs and Moss‘ throaty vocals. From Kansas to Roadburn. They’re always a lot of fun to watch, and in Tilburg was no exception.

I stayed and got bumped into a few more times and then decided to check out a couple minutes of The Psychedelic Warlords, who were just getting ready for launch at the time. Space rock, man. It sure is spacious. They pulled a good crowd as well of loyal lysergeons and Davey, along with a full lineup of keys, guitar, vocals, drums and sax, were in the process of giving Space Ritual its due. By that point, the “get back to the hotel and start writing” urge was coming on pretty strong, and I didn’t resist. Outside, people sat at the picnic tables (new this year) or ate grub from the outside food stand (also new this year and just closing as I walked by) and smoked whatever they may have felt like smoking. Needless to say, Weirdo Canyon was also abuzz.

Jus Oborn and Liz Buckingham of Electric Wizard were also hanging around the 013 lobby. The band curated tomorrow’s lineup under the heading of “The Electric Acid Orgy,” which one can only imagine will leave but a modicum of survivors. Looking forward.

Extra pics after the jump and more to come tomorrow. Thanks for reading.

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Note they call this one the “Winter Tour 2012.” One can only assume that’s as opposed to The Midnight Ghost Train‘s Winter Tour 2013, which will probably see the band take off two minutes after New Year’s and only stop in time for their Spring Tour 2013. The Midnight Ghost Train tour a lot, is the point I’m making.

And good for them, as their hard work has seen them added to next year’s Roadburn (part of the Spring tour, no doubt; announcement here), and their 2012 outing, Buffalo (stream it below), will give them no shortage of kickass songs to play there. In the meantime, here are the Winter Tour dates:

The Midnight Ghost Train Winter Tour 2012

Nov 29 Green Lantern Lexington, KY
Nov 30 Ultra Lounge Chicago, IL
Dec 1 Southgate House Newport, KY
Dec 2 Brass Rail Fort Wayne, IN
Dec 4 Pegasus Records Florence, AL
Dec 5 Squeaky Lizard Ocean Springs, MS
Dec 6 Twist Of Lime Metairie, LA
Dec 7 Tsunami Monroe, LA
Dec 8 Beer Land Austin, TX
Dec 9 Jakes Downtown Tulsa, OK

Time marches on and the Roadburn 2013 lineup becomes increasingly unfuckwithable. In this latest update we learn that High on Fire will play The Art of Self-Defense in its entirety (as well as do a regular set), and that among others, The Midnight Ghost Train have joined the lineup! Those dudes kill live and have just toured Europe again, so it’s awesome to see their hard work paying off with a gig at a fest like this. Congrats to the band. Also included is info about Jus Oborn of Electric Wizard‘s curated event, and announcements of Penance, Dream Death (their first Euro show!), Maserati, Ash Borer, Intronaut, The Atlas Moth, and more.

Massive as ever:

HIGH ON FIRE TO PLAY TWO EXCLUSIVE SHOWS AT ROADBURN 2013, DREAM DEATH & PSYCHIC TV/PTV3 CONFIRMED FOR JUS OBORN’S CURATED ROADBURN EVENT, DOOM PIONEERS PENANCE AND MORE CONFIRMED

Here are the latest updates from Roadburn headquarters:

We’re elated to announce that Oakland, CA heavy metal juggernaut High on Fire will bring their enormous sonic assault to Roadburn Festival 2013 for two exclusive shows.

On Thursday, April 18th, High on Fire will play their landmark debut, The Art of Self Defense, in its entirety. Initially released in 2000 by Man’s Ruin Records (and now reissued by Southern Lord), The Art of Self Defense displayed a new, intensely primal attitude for stoner rock / metal that broke away from the laid back desert bands.

On Saturday, April 20th, Matt Pike, Des Kensel and Jeff Matz will bring their brute force musicianship and thundering roar, anchored in an endlessly captivating, punkishly frantic sound to Roadburn 2013. This set will showcasing High on Fire’s obsession with Motörheadish thrash, stunningly renderd on instant classics like De Vermis Mysteriis, and Snakes for the Divine. More info on High on Fire here: http://wp.me/p1m0FP-6zY

Electric Wizard is proud to present two more mindblowing freakouts for The Electric Acid Orgy: “Cult (and we mean really fuckin kkvvuullttttt!!???) Pittsburgh Doom pioneers Dream Death are back from the dead!!, says Jus Oborn. “1987’s Journey into Mystery LP was a blueprint for a ‘chosen few ‘doom freaks… evil churning riffs, proto 70s influences, HP lovecraft / weird tales inspired lyrics and tortured ‘real’ vocals.”

“Everyone else was ‘thrashing’ but this was it… ominous, foreboding, twisted and evil and it definitley pointed us in the right direction. We are unbelievably excited to witness them live at last and hope you will join us in screaming every word from Back From The Dead: “I hope you enjoyed the living me cos the dead one never ends.” More info on Dream Death’s first ever European performance here: http://wp.me/p1m0FP-6yU

“And from even further into the abyss we present legendary aural terrorists and brain agitators Psychic TV / PTV3!!! Formed in the early 80’s after the disbanding of Throbbing Gristle, this legendary outfit was always a dark subliminal influence. Their live performances would still haunt various festivals when we were teenagers and they were always scary… their fans , their image. Back then it meant something to shock people, to wake them up from their government imposed comas.

“I also remember their fake (?) cult Temple Ov Psychic Youth”, says Jus, “which had a huge influence on us and the early black metal scene, they even got satanic ritual footage on the BBC. Its all been done before kids and it started here.” More info on Psychic TV / PTV3 here: http://wp.me/p1m0FP-6zS

More info on Jus Oborn’s The Electric Acid Orgy here: http://wp.me/p1m0FP-6An

Their name has perennially appeared on Roadburn Festival wish lists. Like many of you, we have been dreaming of finally getting a chance to see them live. And now, for the first time since touring with Cathedral and Sleep in 1993, doom pioneers Penance (the Parallel Corners lineup) will return to Europe for an exclusive appearance at Roadburn 2013! More info on Penance here: http://wp.me/p1m0FP-6yO

Ash Borer, Fell Voices, The Atlas Moth, Intronaut, Maserati, The Midnight Ghost Train and Raketkanon are also confirmed for Roadburn Festival 2013.

Roadburn Festival 2013, including Electric Wizard, Godflesh playing Pure in its entirety for the first time ever, Neige (Alcest) as Artist-in-Residence , Spiritual Beggars, Ihsahn and Die Kreuzen reunion among others, will run for four days from Thursday, April 18th to Sunday, April 21st, 2013 (the traditional Afterburner event) at the 013 venue in Tilburg, Holland.

Tickets for the Roadburn 2013 Afterburner are still available: http://www.roadburn.com/roadburn-2013/tickets

Please visit www.roadburn.com for more info.

I rolled into Public Assembly like a wheelbarrow full of suck. It was Thursday, and I’d worked late as the fourth day of the kind of week where even when I was ahead of myself, I was still behind (so much so, you might say, that I’m writing and posting this review over the weekend). Morale was low. What I needed was a bit of rock and roll revival, and in that regard, I was lucky it was The Midnight Ghost Train I was on my way to see.

The Kansas rockers you might recall from their stint earlier this year opening for Truckfighters (reviews here and here). They’re out touring — as they do, all the time — in support of their new album, Buffalo (review here), doing a US run before heading to Europe this fall. Simply put, they rip live. I liked Buffalo a lot when I reviewed it, and I still dig that record however long it’s been later (I thought I had it or I’d have picked up a CD at the show — more the fool I), but I know from the four or five times I’ve seen them over the last four years or so that they’re an entirely different beast on stage. Public Assembly paired them with local outfits Reign of Zaius and Eidetic Seeing, the latter of whom was just getting ready to go on as I arrived.

Some bands you can just feel the heat off the their tubes as they play, and that was the case with Eidetic Seeing. I knew nothing about the band — I could’ve easily looked them up beforehand, but frankly, I like going into shows sometimes without knowing what I’m going to get — and was pleased to find them a warm-toned heavy psych jam unit. The three-piece were still pretty clearly getting their bearings sound-wise, but it could’ve been much worse. There were maybe 15 or 20 people there when they got going, but Eidetic Seeing may have had the biggest crowd of the night, and the young lady who stood several feet in front of the stage seemed to love it.

They were, however, too loud for the room — which, if you’re keeping track, I believe makes me too old for the room. I like Public Assembly‘s back room. I saw Windhand and Pilgrim there with Magic Circle a few months back and dug the space, the layout of the darkened room reminding me of any number of dingy spots in and around Manhattan where these kinds of shows have happened throughout the last decade — the difference being that Public Assembly hasn’t been forced out of business as so many others have by the onslaught of corporately-owned or sponsored venues and promotion companies. Lucinda Williams was playing down the block at the Music Hall of Williamsburg. Obviously I don’t know what goes on behind the scenes, but at least on the surface, there seemed to be peaceful coexistence, and the bar between the two venues had live gypsy jazz, which, you know, is fucking awesome.

However, I only know about it because I went outside. Eidetic Seeing‘s wash of noise came through the Public Assembly P.A. as more abrasive than I think it wanted to be, so after several songs, I took my leave and took the air, chatting outside with The Midnight Ghost Train‘s guitarist/vocalist Steve Moss about how the shows were going, mutual acquaintances, and so forth. After a while, I decided to head back in, because I didn’t want to miss Reign of Zaius‘ start, and Eidetic Seeing were just finishing up. They had played a long set. I guess you can do that on a Thursday-is-the-new-Friday in Williamsburg, and they weren’t bad, just not really what I was looking for at the time — that being the aforementioned revival — so I won’t be surprised next time around when Eidetic Seeing and I run into each other and I have a deeper appreciation for what they’re doing.

One thing they had going for them, though, was their bassist. Please try to contain your surprise that I dug the bass tone in an underdeveloped heavy psych trio — something that’s definitely never happened before — but quality low end became a theme for the night. Reign of Zaius bassist Davis followed suit, playing through a fretless and being almost solely responsible for the thickness of his band’s sound. Not that something was lacking in the guitar of Brady, just that the band wasn’t geared on the whole to fuzz or showy about their distortion. They played relatively simple, straightforward heavy-type rock, however, called their frontman Viking and had an impressive, somewhat showy, drummer in the younger Brian.

Like Eidetic Seeing, it seemed watching Reign of Zaius that the band was still working out the kinks in their dynamic. There were a couple noticeable flubs, but nothing major, and overall their songs were inoffensive. The room as uncrowded as it was, it wasn’t going to be anyone’s best night, and as I pointed out in the very first sentence of this review, it wasn’t mine either. Nonetheless, cuts from their self-titled EP like “Cravings,” “White Horse” and “Revelation” gave a decent idea of the lack of pretense in their intent, and “Thick Thighs” had its own kind of charm. No shortage of it. Any band that lists Black Sabbath and the 1988 “Rowdy” Roddy Piper classic They Live among their influences is doing something right, and Reign of Zaius clearly were.

My spirits had picked up some by the time The Midnight Ghost Train had their gear set up. Since the last time they came through, the Topeka outfit jettisoned bassist David Kimmell, leaving Moss and drummer Brandon Burghart — who wore a Truckfighters shirt for their set — to search out a replacement. Before they went on, Moss told me they’d only been playing with Alfred Jordan, from Mississippi, for a few weeks, but watching them on stage, they were still easily the tightest band of the three that played, and Jordan‘s presence on stage, his dreadlocks tossed in several directions at once with each headbang, made a fitting complement for the already established dynamic between Moss and Burghart.

Moss introduced the band in his usual throaty affect, saying, “We’re The motherfucking Midnight Ghost Train from motherfucking Kansas,” pausing for a sip of water before adding, “That’s right, Kansas. Yes, we can read.” The Brooklyn crowd got a laugh out of that, and while I can’t imagine what talking like that with the kind of regularity Moss does so must do to your throat — if you’ve never seen them, think of any number of grizzled 85-year-old Delta blues players, then make it fast, and that’s kind of how Moss talks when he’s on stage — it’s clearly had no effect on his energy level over the course of the time he’s been doing it. The Midnight Ghost Train remain one of the most undervalued quality live acts in their genre, and at Public Assembly, they made a solid case for revisiting Buffalo.

The height of the stage at Public Assembly provides a little distance, and watching them closely, it’s pretty easy to discern the common patterning of The Midnight Ghost Train‘s riffing. They rely a lot on upbeat progressions, cycling through a riff, finishing it with a couple hits, then cycling through again, but what makes it exciting to watch live or to listen to on the album is that you don’t at any point know what they’re going to do with it, and they don’t always do the same thing. They are masters of the sudden stop. Burghart will mute his cymbals, Moss and Jordan will cut the strings, and even if it’s just half a second of silence, the raucousness that ensues following is that much stronger for the pause. Top that with Moss‘ hand-in-the-air raving testimonial vocal delivery, and Buffalo tracks like “Henry” and “Foxhole” wind up as exciting to watch as they are to hear.

Still, it was the slower “Tom’s Trip” that was the highlight of their set. Burghart played without a rack tom — his kit just the snare and bass drums and a floor tom, crash, ride and hi-hat — and that got me thinking about the balance for a drummer between stripping things down to force more creative play and oversimplifying. It’s easy for a drummer, provided he or she can afford it, to adorn a kit with extra toms, cowbells, wood blocks, china cymbals and the rest, but Burghart‘s minimal drumset worked to both his interests and those of the songs, and the play from the snare on his left to the floor tom on his right was a big part of what made “Tom’s Trip” so much fun. The song also reaffirmed that as bombastic and vibrant as The Midnight Ghost Train are on any given night, they’re also readily capable of locking in a stoner rock groove and letting it ride where and when they want it to.

All that feeds into the notion of their unpredictability, which is one of their strongest assets. They have a set context for themselves, but within that, you can never be quite sure where they’re headed. Shouts rose up when they finished for one more song, so they encored with “Southern Belle,” Moss rounding out the set by asking how much he should make it hurt, and then they were quickly done. With work in the morning and the drive back to Jersey ahead, I said a quick thanks and goodnight and split out back to my car, not knowing I’d spend the better part of the next hour in Holland Tunnel traffic.

And I won’t lie to you, there was a moment when — stuck in the tunnel after 1AM, having not moved for 10 minutes because of something no one could see or understand, as discordant chorus of car horns and New York-accented shouts rose up all around me — I really thought I was going to die there in that spot. There was a strange sub-harmony to the horns, and their futility — no one even knew what they were honking at — gave the anger driving them a melancholy edge. Sad, hopeless assholes, stuck in a tunnel together. No doubt after 12 hours, the weak among us would’ve been dismembered and eaten; my own flesh stripped off and cured, like bacon, for breakfast around what for the rest of the world would’ve been sunrise. No sunrise for tunnelfolk.

I barely escaped with my hide, and eventually got through to Jersey and back to my humble river valley, the driving rhythms of “Foxhole” still stuck in my head, where they remain. The Midnight Ghost Train were off the next day, and at The Station in Philly the night after (which is Saturday, tonight). All their tour dates domestic and abroad can be found on their website — they put them right out front. If the point hasn’t been made clear, they’re a highly recommended good time, and bound to improve whatever mood you might be in when you first show up.

Extra pics after the jump. Thanks for reading.

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This one was too cool not to post. Topeka, Kansas, heavy as hell trio The Midnight Ghost Train are once again hitting the road in support of their new album, Buffalo (review here). To promote their Aug. 9 Brooklyn gig with Reign of Zaius and Eidetic Seeing, the band has silkscreened posters onto the backs of PBR boxes. Even as someone who doesn’t drink the beer, I think that’s pretty clever. Click to enlarge:

Check out the full list of The Midnight Ghost Train tour dates (including European shows this fall) at their website.

Named either for a town with which it would seem to have little to do musically but from which they hailed at one point or another, or an animal with which it shares many commonalities, Buffalo is the second full-length from The Midnight Ghost Train. Recorded just days after the Topeka, Kansas, trio got off the road from their 2011 tour with Truckfighters (see here and here) – and mostly recorded live, from the sound of it – Buffalo (released on Karate Body Records) is a half-hour set that commences almost immediately with zero-bullshit American-style stoner blues rock and offers little let-up for the duration. Their 2009 self-titled (review here) was a stylistic jaunt into such territories, and boasted several guest appearances from friends of the band, but Buffalo is more straightforward and outclasses its predecessor on every level in much the same way that album was a step up from earlier 2009’s The Johnny Boy EP (review here). Fronted by gruff-throated guitarist/vocalist Steve Moss, the mission behind Buffalo was clearly to bring the energy and flow of the band’s live set to a recording, and aided by the production of David Barbe (Bob Mould, Drive-by Truckers), they come about as close as one imagines being able to; tracks flow one into the next with ultra-natural smoothness, and there are moments in the album’s core midsection where it seems like Moss, bassist David Kimmell and drummer Brandon Burghart are going to lose control of the jams entirely and the whole record is going to come to a halt, but of course that never happens and The Midnight Ghost Train, however wild or tonally entrenched they might become, never actually lose control here when they don’t want to do so. Buffalo’s eight tracks are memorable individually, but work best taken as a whole – which of course is easy given the fact that the album is only a half-hour long – where the ebbs and flows and Moss’ bluesy growling can be carried across with the full complement of the next shifts about to come.

At their core, The Midnight Ghost Train are a stoner rock band. It’s Moss’ riffing leading the way with thick, rich, gloriously fuzzy tone for the heavy blues rhythms of Kimmell and Burghart, who hold their own behind him even at his most frantic. Vocally, Moss takes on a raving blues persona. Like he’s the one who most took Neil Fallon’s vocals on “I Have the Body of John Wilkes Booth” to heart. His delivery is likewise gruff as “Henry” takes hold following upbeat instrumental opener “A Passing Moment of Madness,” which introduces the band’s penchant for riff-fronted grooves and foreshadows instrumental focus to come. Maybe it’s a style derived from heavier roots, but Moss plays it all bluesy on “Henry,” and his solos are likewise unbridled. Most importantly, he’s well mixed, so as not to be completely dominant or out in front of the guitars, bass and drums when it’s so obviously supposed to be the whole song that’s the focus and not one individual or another. Still, he’s striking as he drives home the rolling groove of “Foxhole,” with Burghart adding tom flourishes behind, and is obviously going to be a central presence throughout Buffalo. The reason it’s not out of balance is because, as I said, he’s well mixed, and also because Kimmell’s bass gives a formidable showing of its own, not to mention Burghart’s deft and varied drumming. I know Moss has been through several lineups of the band at this point, but they sound better here than they ever have, and having seen some of these songs live, “Foxhole” among them, I think they came as close as they could have to honing in on that live feel without actually having Moss walk in the room and start yelling at you.

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Seems a bit excessive to do a second full live review for The Midnight Ghost Train and Truckfighters in two days, though I’ll admit to wavering back and forth on the idea before finally settling on this as a compromise. The show, held at Piano’s in one of Manhattan’s several no-one-can-afford-it playground neighborhoods, SoHo, was an afterthought to the tour — a secret Tee Pee Records-sponsored gig featuring the two touring acts and NYC’s Mirror Queen opening up. I’d heard about it Friday and, the familial obligations that kept me from Brooklyn having been gladly and dutifully fulfilled, knew it wasn’t something I wanted to miss.

A few general observations before we get into the band-by-band: Everyone was tired. Apparently Brooklyn had been a bit of a to-do. End of the tour, that’s to be expected. Nevertheless, there was a plague, and it was called “hangover.” Not even La Otracina‘s Adam Kriney, who was in attendance having played the night before, was spared.

Also, the crowd was minimal. To me, that’s ideal. It was a free show, a secret show, and to my estimation, it was likely happening because Mirror Queen guitarist Kenny Sehgal wanted it to happen. Sehgal‘s involved with Tee Pee and Mirror Queen grew out of his former band, Kreisor (formerly Aytobach Kreisor, if you’re up on your NYC heavy lore; I still can’t pass by without missing going to shows at The Continental), so it’s not unreasonable to assume he put it together.

In any case, I was glad I had the chance to see Truckfighters and The Midnight Ghost Train again, and I’d yet to catch Mirror Queen since their debut, From Earth Below came out last year — on Tee Pee, of course — so they seem a good place to start:

There had been an earlier show in the Piano’s back room, and the start time was listed as 10PM at the door, but the “last” band went long and Mirror Queen didn’t get to start on time. No one seemed especially put off by it, and I wasn’t nearly as perturbed by that as I was by the fact that I’d been hit up for cash at the door for a free show. When I went back to talk to the guy sitting at the desk at the door after confirming that, indeed, there was no cover, he was gone. Welcome to Manhattan. Anyway, Sehgal (above) led the charge in Mirror Queen, joined on guitar by recent NYC transplant Thomas Bellier of Blaak Heat Shujaa and Ehécatl, and also serving as the vocalist for a surprisingly subdued set of classic-style heavy rock. It was a similar vibe to watching John Brenner and Against Nature on stage, where it rocks, but it also kind of calms you down. Sehgal laughed at one point that he was going to play really quietly — perhaps he’d been taken by the aforementioned plague — and indeed his guitar was somewhat out of balance with Bellier‘s, but the songs carried warm, laid back vibes and were familiar enough to get their point across. Bassist Roman and drummer Jeremy O’Brien (also formerly of Kreisor) made for a solid rhythm section, and they finished off with a cover of Captain Beyond‘s “Mesmerization Eclipse,” so I had no complaints whatsoever.

The Midnight Ghost Train‘s Steve Moss had his mother and fiancée in attendance (you could tell who they were because they were ladies, and though I didn’t say hi to either of them, they seemed lovely; Moss could be seen dancing with his betrothed after the band’s set), so what already was perhaps a special night for the circumstances that brought it about had another level of emotional involvement for the singer/guitarist. They were the only band of the three not confirmed to yet be working with Tee Pee in some capacity, but it wouldn’t really surprise me if the label was convinced by their performance to bring them on board for their next album. They were tight and crisp, but still really open sounding, and bassist David Kimmell (above) locked down thick grooves with drummer Brandon Burghart just as they’d done in Philly Friday night while Moss went off on raving bluesman rants, barely decipherable through the substantial Piano’s P.A., but no less entertaining for that. His energy level was probably closest of anyone’s to what it was at The Station, and the set once again made me hopeful for what they might be able to accomplish on their next album. I don’t think I was the only one they impressed, either.

Understand that when I say “everyone was tired,” that doesn’t necessarily mean Sweden’s Truckfighters didn’t still put on one of the most energetic sets of desert rock I’ve ever seen. They started off with guitarist Niklas Källgren (above) running to the front bar of Piano’s in an effort to push people to the back, all the while playing the opening riff to “Desert Cruiser” through his wireless setup. That was a fair bit of brilliance, and somewhat effective, but while they may have started out in similar fashion in Philly, the setlist took a different turn, setting crowd interaction off more atmospherics with “Kickdown” and extending the jam in “Monte Gargano” in a way that seemed to surprise even bassist/vocalist Oskar Cedermalm, who nonetheless had no trouble giving Källgren the necessary room to roam, physically or musically. Heavy-smoking drummer Oscar Johansson, once more in his skivvies, sounded especially good, and though the recent documentary about the band paints him as somewhat unreliable and perhaps less dedicated to Truckfighters than Cedermalm or Källgren, it was plain to see why they remain dedicated to him, and though they didn’t jump around as much — they still jumped around plenty — as they had two nights earlier, I relished the chance to watch them play what was at times a more subdued set and see the adrenaline overtake them near the end of “Helium 28″ from their 2003 split with Firestone and even more so “Chameleon” from 2007′s Phi, which made for a super-thick closer. As it would be the last song they played in America this go around, its build and payoff were utterly engrossing to the point that, even after all the Truckfighters I’ve been hearing lately, I still broke out the track to listen as I wrote this.

There was a point after they finished at which I looked up at the clock, saw it was 1:30 in the morning, and said “holy shit” out loud. I was talking to Bellier about some of his upcoming projects, etc., and the full weight of the work week that would ensue whether or not I was ready hit me — hard. Not five minutes later, I was out of Piano’s, back around the corner to the car and en route to sit in Holland Tunnel traffic. Gotta wash that tunnel every night or it might not sparkle.

Hey, at least it creates jobs. The Patient Mrs. was long since asleep when I got in, about 90 minutes later, and I commenced staying up until five for no good reason, trying to blind myself to the notion of needing to be up for work at eight, and ultimately failing. But seriously: Truckfighters. I’m proud to say I’ve seen them three times now and it’s been worth the loss of sleep for each show. This one was the same story as the last one — no regrets whatsoever.

More pics after the jump.

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The decision to hit Philadelphia instead of Brooklyn — which had been the plan all along — was made the night before. There was the looming prospect of family in from out of town (who would arrive Saturday afternoon) and inevitable obligations stemming from that which skipping out on would almost certainly result in my being seen as a complete jerk. “Here’s your seven-week-old baby back, I gotta head to Williamsburg.” Shit just doesn’t fly.

So, instead of that, Philly on Friday. It was two hours in the car each way, but Brooklyn probably would’ve been that too — especially if they were giving the Holland Tunnel its nightly power-washing — and there was the added advantage of not having to park in, or be in, Brooklyn on a Saturday night. I left work early — the excuse was another bonus — and headed south on the Turnpike like a man on a mission.

Perhaps that mission was a little too successful, because I was early as hell. The enthusiastic dude at the door of The Station, which was playing host to touring acts Truckfighters and The Midnight Ghost Train as well as local support Skeleton Hands and The Company Corvette, recommended hitting the South Philly Tap Room down the block for dinner and pre-show boozing, and even unadvertised mustard on my hamburger didn’t stop it from ruling. The place was packed, and it was chilly eating outside, but several Kenzingers helped me pretend it was summer and not, you know, still the middle of March.

Reports that The Station allowed smoking inside turned out to be true, but when I got back to the two-level venue — one bar a few steps up from another where a stage-less performance space was cleared out — that didn’t stop me from saying “fuck yeah” out loud. It was going to be close quarters and a late night, but that’s exactly what I was looking for. In short order, The Company Corvette got going and the night was under way.

I knew literally nothing about the Philly natives going into their set, but they were a good start to the show, proffering straight-up, still developing stonerisms in good working order. They seemed to be still finding their path, musically, but I like that in bands, so I was into their riff-led Sleep-y grooves. Curious that later, someone (obviously drunk, and it wasn’t someone actually from the three-piece) took it on themselves to try to put a logo sticker on Oskar “Ozo” Cedermalm from Truckfighters‘ bass while he was playing it, but it was that kind of night. Smoky, drunk, riffy. Philly is a rock and roll town. That kind of shit happens there.

Between The Company Corvette and Skeleton Hands, who were more directly derived from the Southern heavy tradition, the City of Brotherly Love gave a pretty decent showing of its stoner scene. There were probably bigger bands who could’ve been on the bill — Sadgiqacea come immediately to mind, though they’re less directly in the genre; and I think Clamfight only played five shows last week, so they could’ve hacked another — but it seemed like both of the openers had, at one point or another, legitimately taken a cue on some level from Truckfighters, and that’s always encouraging. Skeleton Hands, for what it’s worth, also had probably the biggest crowd of the night.

Vocalist Pete Hagen laid it on thick with the post-Alabama Thunderpussy inflection, and like The Company Corvette, Skeleton Hands seemed to be in their formative stages, but they’ve obviously already made an impression if their draw is anything to go by. Being an out-of-towner (everywhere), I wondered a bit at times if there wasn’t something I was missing, but as Skeleton Hands hit the dense hook of their eponymous song, it was hard not to be consumed by the groove of it. They had CDs for sale with a “donation,” and I’d already gotten one before they played, but when they were done, I didn’t regret it.

How many years it had been since the last time I saw The Midnight Ghost Train play, I’m not entirely sure. I remember, vaguely, the show was in Bayonne, in Jersey, and I remember digging them a lot, but if you told me it was any date between 2006 and 2008, I’d have no choice but to believe you. In any case, guitarist/vocalist/madman Steve Moss got on the mic in Philly like a forgotten Ellwood, talking all kinds of indecipherable throaty jive about being on tour with Truckfighters and this and that. Hard to pick up what he was putting down, at least until the songs started. Then the mystery disappeared.

Not sure how to say it other than to say it, but they were killer. I know The Midnight Ghost Train‘s 2009 self-titled full-length (review here) was right on, but that was a different band entirely. In Philly, their sound was full, and exciting, and delivered with an energy that stood up to Truckfighters — which, if you’ve ever seen the headliners, you know is saying something — and their set, which was mostly comprised of new material according to the conversation I had with Moss afterward, was a stunner. Legitimately. I already knew I liked the band and they still caught me off guard.

Even when Moss busted a string on his guitar and had to get out a second one in the middle of the song — the name “Sophia” was stenciled on road case a bit to the left of the band’s logo — I don’t think bassist David Kimmell even stopped headbanging to look and see what was going on. They build up righteous momentum, Moss flailed his preacher’s hands as he ranted and raved, and the rock went epic. Drummer Brandon Burghart had his work cut out for him holding the songs to ground, but they never got out of control when they didn’t want to, and as a rhythm section, Kimmell and Burghart stood up to Moss‘ considerable barrage of riffs, leads and well-spit verses.

They reportedly start recording their new album tomorrow, March 20, in Georgia with one of the dudes from Harvey Milk putting them to 2″ tape. I’ll look forward to that, but in the meantime, I learned before Truckfighters went on that the two bands would be playing what was billed as a secret Tee Pee Records showcase in Manhattan on Sunday with NYC natives Mirror Queen opening, and was suddenly way less bummed out about missing the Brooklyn show the next night. The room had settled some during The Midnight Ghost Train‘s set as some of those who were only showing up for the locals had split and others had come for the touring acts, but if it wasn’t sold out, it’s only because they kept letting people into The Station. I grabbed a spot in front of the P.A. to stage right and waited.

You know, I had been a little bummed out seeing the reports and video coming out of this year’s SXSW in Austin, Texas, last week. Lots of good bands, lots of good showcases, and for me, some pretty positive memories of years past, hazy though they are. With the first cycling through of the riff to “Desert Cruiser,” all that went right out the window. Drummer Oscar “Pezo” Johansson dropped trow — literally, he played in his boxers — and recently-interviewed guitarist Niklas “Dango” Källgren took off his shirt, and off they went.

Truckfighters are rock at the speed of go. It was only a few months ago I saw them rip a hole through Cake Shop in Manhattan, but seeing that only made this show all the more necessary. On a tour that in terms neither of routing nor personnel involved was what they thought it would be, Truckfighters flourished and hit with an astonishing level of energy. It was like they were pushing the material to see how far it could go, how hard it could hit, how fuzzed it could get. Where I stood, Cedermalm‘s vocals were coming through so loud at times they hurt, even with the sock he put over the mic (which, incidentally, is where that The Company Corvette sticker ended up) but it was worth it to be that close to rock that visceral.

“Desert Cruiser” wasn’t over before Källgren was rolling on the ground kicking his legs in the air, and their whole set pretty much looked like riffy calisthenics, though they’re probably also the most audience-minded act I’ve seen in this genre — in people’s faces the whole time, taking advantage of their wireless setups (which also adds some compression to their tonal crunch that they seem to use to their advantage) to walk through the crowd, and, in Cedermalm‘s case, jumping on the bar before the encore to ask everyone if they wanted to hear another song — so they made it work and the audience had no choice but to go along with them. Not that there was much resistance, but it would’ve been pointless if there had been, is what I’m saying.

The set was pretty well balanced, with three songs from 2005′s Gravity X debut, two from 2007′s Phi, and three from 2009′s Mania, which is set for North American reissue in May as Truckfighters‘ debut on Tee Pee, but though it was killer to hear “Last Curfew” and “Traffic,” and “Monte Gargano” was a crowd favorite, I was even more stoked on “Majestic,” the 13-minute Mania masterpiece the payoff of which was so huge as to serve as the high point of an already excellent set. I’d been hoping for “Con of Man,” which they didn’t play, but they hit “Analougus” from the 2004 Fuzzorama compilation, The Ultimate Fuzz Collection, as the first part of a two-song encore that finished out with “In Search Of,” which seems to be the permanent closer. Hard to argue with its position.

I don’t remember what time it was exactly when they finished, but I know I got back to my humble river valley at about four in the morning, so I’d put it somewhere close to two. If you’ve never had the pleasure, the middle of the night is the best time to drive on the New Jersey Turnpike, or any major highway for that matter, barring accidents or construction — neither of which was hit on the way back north — and though I didn’t sleep nearly as late Saturday morning as I’d have liked, I did have plenty to look forward to going into Sunday night’s secret show.

More pics after the jump.

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It’s been a while since we last heard from pita-loving Kansas heavy rockers The Midnight Ghost Train. The band self-released their self-titled debut late in 2009 (review here) and were just getting ready to record the follow-up, Buffalo, named for their former hometown, but after Karma to Burn dropped off the Truckfighters tour, they’ve been selected to fill the position.

So congratulations to the band. If you have to delay recording, at least it’s for a good cause. The tour is set to start this week, and as you can see below, the run with Truckfighters is just a fraction of the dates confirmed for Spring.

From their website:

Hey y’all, we’ve got quite the exciting news for you. I know we recently posted that we were taking the month off to get ready for our new record, but we just can’t stay off the road. We are very honored to announce that we were chosen to go on tour with one of the world’s biggest stoner rock bands of all time: Truckfighters from Sweden.

This is huge for us, and will be a big step in the right direction for our band. It’s a very last-minute tour, we leave this Monday and the tour starts in Charlotte, NC, on March 1. So I know its very last-minute but let’s pull together and show Truckfighters and the world that TMGT has not only got the greatest fans in the world, but also let’s show them how much TMGT kicks ass. So let’s pull together and tell your friends, and blog about it, and do whatever y’all do.

The day after the tour ends we will be going into the studio to record our new record. So we will be rip roarin’ and ready to record. Can’t wait to see you guys at the shows, we love you and we wouldn’t be here without you. The tour dates with Truckfighters are posted below. See you at the show, get ready to rock the fuck out.

The Midnight Ghost Train and Truckfighters:
03/01 Tremont Music Hall Charlotte, NC
03/02 31st Street Pub Pittsburgh, PA
03/03 Blind Bob’s Dayton, OH
03/04 Pyramid Scheme Grand Rapids, MI
03/05 Ultra Lounge Chicago, IL
03/06 Hi-Tone Memphis, TN
03/07 Siberia New Orleans, LA
03/08 ND Austin, TX
03/09 Jake’s Downtown Lounge Tulsa, OK
03/10 The Roadmap Texarkana, AR
03/11 Downtown Music Little Rock, AR
03/13 The Get Down Asheville, NC
03/14 Pour House Raleigh, NC
03/15 Jewish Mother Backstage Norfolk, VA
03/16 The Station Philadelphia, PA
03/17 Public Assembly Brooklyn, NY

The Midnight Ghost Train Spring US tour dates:
04/13 Green Lantern Lexington, KY
04/14 Neptune on Pine Warrensburg, MO
04/20 Indys Jukebox Indianapolis, IN
04/26 Filling Station Boozeman, MT
04/27 Jesters Bar Helena, MT
04/28 Jesters Bar Helena, MT
04/29 Dante’s Portland, OR
05/04 Redwood Los Angeles, CA
05/05 Bar 11 San Diego, CA
05/10 Lions Lair Denver, CO
05/14 Soundpony Tulsa, OK
05/17 JD’s Glass Sheffield, AL
05/18 Wild Salmon Lafayette, LA
05/19 Tsunami Bar Monroe, LA

European shows:
05/25 Bolzplatz Revival Fest Fiefbergen, Germany
06/01 DB’s Utrecht, Netherlands
06/02 Jume Kiel, Germany
06/09 ROTORMANIA Festival Berlin, Germany
06/15 Revolver Oslo, Norway

The room was basically a glorified VFW, or a Knights of Columbus hall in Bayonne, New Jersey, and I’d never seen The Midnight Ghost Train before. The trio, then from Buffalo, now hailing from Kansas, had a thickened, rootsy blues take on stoner heaviness, and though the layout of the place was awkward and the stage absurdly high, guitarist/vocalist Steve Moss, then-bassist Odie Lallo (since replaced by Will Shumate) and drummer Brandon Burghart owned the room with the presence and sound of a veteran road act. Turns out that’s not just coincidence.

In fact, if Moss has his way, they’d never come off tour. It’s an attitude more reminiscent of the DIY hardcore punk of the early ’80s than the usual stoner rock real-life commitments that keep so many bands from wider-ranging gigs — jobs, families, etc. Moss, who logged over 1,000 miles just in the move from Buffalo to Topeka, has an unwavering passion for The Midnight Ghost Train. This has led to some shifts in lineup, but more importantly, to the band’s recently-reviewed self-titled debut full-length. The album, self-released and distributed for free in both physical and digital form via their MySpace, harnesses the power of their live show while simultaneously panning it out and expanding in ways that space in Bayonne simply wouldn’t be able to handle.

I didn’t have the record that night to compare it to (though that is when I picked up their preceding release, The Johnny Boy EP), but looking back on that show now, it’s clear their set was only just a sample of the band’s potency and vibrant, organic approach. Moss recently took some time out to field an email interview about The Midnight Ghost Train, band and album, and the changes they’ve brought about in his life.

Interview is after the jump. Please enjoy.

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Maybe it’s the image in my head of Kansas flatland stretching to the horizon and then some, but there’s something isolated about the widely varied tracks on the self-titled, self-released full-length debut from The Midnight Ghost Train. As though, despite the amount of low-key touring the band has done, they still can’t escape their nestled-in geography. This is not necessarily a bad thing, particularly as the band — a duo on the record who since have added bassist Will Shumate and relocated from their original home in Buffalo, NY — incorporates lonely and blues-laden acoustics with their densely-packed furry riffage.

The Midnight Ghost Train is led by guitarist/vocalist Steve Moss (he plays bass on the record too). Brandon Burghart handles the drums here since joining following the excellent The Johnny Boy EP, and there are a slew of guests throughout. The dramatic “Desert Red” is made all the more so by violin and cello contributions, and former drummer Jake Levin sings a gruff lead vocal on “Mustache.” Levin is one of three guest vocalists — Joseph Hester shows up on “Desert Red” and Edward Jackson adds backup for “They’re Burying Me Alive” — and although it would be easy to read this as a lack of confidence on the part of Moss as a singer, the vibe The Midnight Ghost Train gives off isn’t so much that as it is simply wanting to change things up. Moss shows himself capable of handling Fallon-esque throaty preaching on “The Swell” and a more subdued, near Cisneros-style on “River Silt.” No perceivable insecurity there.

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Someone needs to sign this band. Today.

Every now and then you find an unsigned band who make it all worthwhile, and that?s how I feel about Buffalo?s The Midnight Ghost Train. Not only are they self-financing a full month-long US tour, but their bluesy, boozy, diverse six-track The Johnny Boy EP — which is actually about 50 minutes long — is pushing the stoner envelope with a sound as natural as it is brazen.

A trio featuring Steve Moss on guitar and vocals, Keith Harry-Carey on bass (since replaced by O.D. Lallo of L.O.M.F. and formerly Negative Reaction) and drummer Jake Levin (since replaced by Brandon Burghart), also on piano, The Midnight Ghost Train are one of those bands who actually deliver when you say, ?Wow, I sure hope there?s a harmonica on this song.? The Johnny Boy EP opener ?Brothers? gets moving with a driving riff and the memorable, charming lyric, ?I?m in love with a new girl every week.? Moss? vocal has a very stoner rock rough edge, and on the softer, longer, more atmospheric ?Stranger? he seems to have taken a diction cue from Eric Wagner?s later work in Trouble. Not a bad thing since it works coupled with the echoing, bluesy guitar.

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