There's something about bands that live and work in and out of north Alabama. They may have different palettes for their paint, but you are damned sure going to know how they feel about what's on their minds, and you'll be damned certain that this music blazes right out of the South.
5ive O'Clock Charlie has poured jet fuel on these fires.
Working decades in every combination from solo, duos, trios, quartets as house band in their own Huntsville bar, slow weeknights and packed weekends has led them out into regional music venues and kept the calendar full. Handling every request, jamming previously unheard gems into requests, these guys have have gone from maturity into resolution. Brand new album Wise Men and Fools certifies this arrival with original songs as passionate in conception as they are in delivery.
Mike Roberts' wailing tenor voice can plead and scold within the same word, and he's earned a year off he won't take doing the WM&F sessions at Jeremy Stephens' Clearwave Studios in Decatur. Jeremy's deft production renders the set in power and polish.
Mike also knows the entire catalog of guitar licks required of a bar band -- but uses none of them on this album, relentlessly pursuing melody in place of mimicry. Scott Johnson's Swamp Works Amps purr, growl or howl as the range of compositions demands. A range it is: the cigar box guitar slide on opening cut Wise Men and Fools indicates this territory is sluiced and juiced by fertile imaginations with something to say, while Billy Teichmiller's Bonzo-Hits-New Orleans drum interlude previews his sparkling snare work and titanium grooves throughout the release.
The warm baritone of Duane Walker's country / Southern rock catalog puts boots on the ground in Everyone Down Here's lament over lost family landmarks and signposts, while backing Duane with fiddle and banjo takes Fast Country into the woods (and whoever played that Telecaster solo is under arrest). Mike's mandolin opens Time Machine, which rather than being wistful nostalgia is an expedition after burnt daylight.
"I know of a few ways I could cope / but most of them offer no hope:" Til the Storm Breaks' determination powers into Through This Mountain's drive for daylight aboard Michael Cline's rock-busting bass riff.
Hey Life is a certifiable anthem. A plaintive lament worthy of John Prine (had he sung full out fronting a rock band), it's automatic to envision audiences standing and singing it by heart, relishing recognition and imbibing desperate hope in its message. Hey Life has a film score in its future.
Wise Men and Fools has no time for cute, no place to party. Solid passion purveyed in irrevocable expertise, 5 O'Clock Charlie puts the sword in the stone on this one.
-Dave Gallaher