Placeless and timelessThe Shiftless Rounders sidestep geography and clocks-Christa O’Keefe See Magazine; Edmonton, ABIf you want insight into what a Shiftless Rounders show is like, last year’s live release, (places), delivers a sepia-toned snapshot of the duo’s hillbilly homage sound. Frantic backporch banjo picking and thumping acoustic guitar rollicks give way to restrained, mournful dobro slides and moonshine-tinged melodies and harmonies. Re-shaped authentic oldies shine alongside vintage-feeling originals, indistinguishable from one another unless you have an anthropological familiarity with the material of the era. |
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The obsessions of both the traditional tunes and songwriter Phill Saylor Wisor tend to be similar–a near-equal split of preoccupation between salvation (Jesus; love) and damnation (liquor; shame)–with the final track, from which the album title is drawn, is a place-by-place accounting of particular, hard-won wisdom earned from each of a staggering array of locales around North America and Europe. The Rounders are no strangers to itinerancy. Wisor himself has a wanderlust that would border on mania if it weren’t structured around a musical odyssey that makes Alan Lomax’s documentary questing look narrow and slackerly. Leaving home in his mid-teens, the eastern U.S. native threw himself to the winds to find weird pockets of Americana. "I got into folk songs, protest music, old time music..." Wisor recollects. "I would find random circumstances, festivals, workshops, and learn from people. Later, I did a couple years in college, started to get into early American hymn singing, shape-note singing, four-part a capella. It was popular music in New England in the early 1800s. Then I migrated Deep South, and I’d go to church every night and would soak in this old religious philosophy and old songs with these old people. I looked at structure, harmony building, singing, and I transferred it to my songwriting. I got into clawhammer style for the banjo, this archaic style of music that had so much in common with punk rock guitar and slam dancing." The project has roots in Eli Kaplan’s 2001 stage production Black Eye, where Wisor and guitar-slinging cohort Ben Sidelinger played traveling musicians stuck in a diner during a blizzard. The roles were meant to add musical colour, but Sidelinger and Wisor found they got on well as performers and as pals, and their sonic affinities synched. The restless Sayor reconnected with his friend months later, when transportation gremlins delayed him in Sidelinger’s Massachusetts town. "Ben was out to my show when I broke down there, and in a very short time we were doing this music together," Wisor relates. "Ben built himself a dobro and we were off." (Sidelinger builds specialty guitars out of a workshop in Washington and Wisor apprenticed with an instrument-maker in England). As to where the Rounders "officially" house themselves these days (Wisor recently married an Edmontonian, also a band mate in the awesome outfit The Digs), he claims the band’s allegiance rests in their suitcases. "Wherever we happen to be, that’s where we’re based," he laughs. "At this point Benny and I have these workable circuits–we meet up, work, play music, and hit the road and have fun." The arrangement doesn’t seem to negatively impact the songwriting. "The more instrumental, banjo/dobro co-writes come through osmosis in a way," Wisor contends. "Ben has some old time tune in his head, I’ve got a different old time tune in my head, and we blend it, spook it out and do the scary harmonies. For the more lyrical, songwritery stuff, I give them to Ben. He has specific ideas about what to highlight. Mood, ambiance, breaks... he’s fantastic. I feel lucky to have him. When we first started playing this music together, we had to search for the dynamic interplay just two people can have. It’s surprising how much space two instruments and two voices can fill." |
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The Shiftless Rounders:
-Patrick Foster Washington Post Friday, January 14,
2005 |
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