| The Boggs We are the Boggs We Are (Arena Rock) They are not the Strokes. They are the Boggs. They are. Both bands share a New York birthplace, though they have diametrically opposed perspectives on creative reinterpretation. So when the Boggs' album cover discreetly features one band member reading a magazine featuring the Strokes, it is not in mock, but rather it implies that somewhere in a parallel universe, the two bands are brotherly. They are. You can hear the same eager, rustic pounding in the Boggs' music: a small boy and his hammer, something that makes sense before it sells. The Boggs extend back to the oldest possible forms of rural Americana, a dark underbelly long smoothed-over, and perhaps take their name from the legendary cult banjo player Doc Boggs - the epitome of close and personal. Like the early British blues movement, this marriage of old and new features a fury of strings; fast, unfinished percussion; and a dark howl of sincerity - the actual moment when the blues was made. Loosely fronted by songwriter Jason Freidman, the four members all met independently while playing New York City subways. They feature an amalgam of blurred guitars, mandolins, banjos, fiddles, pianos, harmonicas, accordions, autoharps, every percussion instrument conceivable, yowling, harmonies and calculated recording inconsistencies that exonerate the eerie tradition of Woody Guthrie. Could popular music possibly be interested in a true roots rediscovery of good 'ol Americana - especially since the O Brother Where Art Thou interest surge? It seems doubtful: What's new always has more flashing buttons than what's old. Thankfully, they are. -Cory Ness |
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