When: Wed., Aug. 29, 9:30 p.m. 2012
Although Blood Jar Creepers have been playing for several years, there's something about this unsettling acoustic act that suggests extreme age, as though it were born of the demented heat of some 19th-century Georgia summer. Avoiding the homogeneity of rigid traditionalism, the Creepers' desolate ballads feel like a clipped-and-forgotten branch of antediluvian music rather than a recent exploration.
"Speaking for myself only, I'm approaching from the notion that to take a too direct and 'faithful' interpretation of old-timey folk styles is just as fake as doing any kind of slick commercial revamp," says guitarist and bass clarinetist "Crowmeat" Bob Pence. "So we're taking some of the techniques and forms of what's gone before and some of our favorite types of songs—like the murder ballads and the longing-for-death gospel kinds of things—and trying to do our own little prosthetic version."
This self-described "rickety doom-folk jug band" maximizes the bleak nihilism found in some traditional numbers, mixing finger-picked guitar, disturbed woodwinds and dour boasts like "ain't much joy in life 'cept killing folks."
Pence says that feeling is echoed in the music: "Sometimes we get into more droney psychedelic freestyle territory, which one would hope instills something like a sense of dread in the listener. Or at least sounds pretty cool to some folks." —Corbie Hill