Halfway through his two hour set, his bandmates fell silent, and the stagehand produced an electric mandolin. As he crooned the woes of the Southern underclass, one knew he had lived it. As Earle left the stage just after midnight, however, the show had yet to climax. I needed that. We're not a highbrow band.
People have a hard time with poetry.
I don't want people carried away by the name and keeping us at arms length because of it. I mean we're part of the New punk literati intelligentsia, we read, you know what I mean. Rainer's third full length is a potent distillation of all the elements that led their earlier releases to garner critical acclaim. We're very aware with every record of what sound we're going for in the studio. De Marrais pained voice alternates between pleasantly cooing and angrily screaming out words that rail against demons of self-doubt.