J. Roddy Waltson & The Business — Essential Tremors

I was tempted to write a manifesto on the virtues of actual instruments. A sprawling diatribe of how a six string and snare drum are a superior vehicle for channeling an artist's talent compared to, say, an iMac. How while guitars with built-in Midi touch pads  and synth pops may dominate the charts, a good song, sung simply and with talent, is still a treat for the ears. But I don't have to do that in this column, because J. Roddy Walston & The Business have done it for me.

The September release of their third LP, Essential Tremors,  is 47 minutes of rock and roll done right. And by right, I mean mixed with healthy dashes of Led Zeppelin-like power chords and the kind of jaunty, southern rock piano that would make pre-Cher Greg Allman proud.

Since this is my first review, I should probably add a disclaimer here: I am not some early middle-aged luddite clinging desperately to the sounds of his youth — the kind that thinks pop music should have stopped evolving before disco and punk made blues-infused rock and soul “classic.” My first album was muddled copy, of a copy, of Green Day's "Dookie" on cassette. I was weaned on the Beatles and mid-90's SoCal punk. I don’t listen to rock radio because I hate stagnation. That said, I like what I like. And I really like this album.

Formed in Cleveland, Tenn., Walston took his band to Baltimore in 2004 so his wife could study Opera. Recorded at Valdosta’s Soul of the South Studios and produced by Grammy-winner Mark Neill, the album gets its title from a nervous system disorder that causes Walston’s hands to spontaneously shake. Walston’s touched on the condition in some of their earlier songs, but here he seems to tread full-bore into previously uncomfortable territory.

There’s a moment early in the album when Walston’s riotous vocals break into a split-second, girlish scream. It’s about two minutes into “Take It As It Comes” — a swaggering, classic-rock boogie — and it’s almost gone before it can sink in. Afterword, Walston giggles as he leaps into the next lyric, singing, “Friends, can you feel me vibrate?,” with what I can only imagine is a big smile on his face, despite the allusion to his condition. And how can he not? It’s a fun song. Music seems to heal all wounds for Walston. I find myself feeling better, too.

“Sweat Shock,” with it’s driving riff and howling chorus, wouldn’t sound out of place on Led Zeppelin’s Houses of the Holy. “Hard Times” is a pure, toe-tapping, road song. “And we’ll be making good time/ making good time/making good time/ Down the road.” Listen to it while driving and try not to step on the gas.

And on “Heavy Bells,” the groups epic, howling first single, Walston seems to sing about his religious upbringing (Catholic, becomes Cath-THO-lic in his southern twang) where interest in rock music was something to be discouraged. “Daddy burnt the dirt but the seed survived.” Meanwhile, “Mama” was a bit more practical. She “. . . knew my mind would know this song/Muscle holler and a moan.” The distorted caterwaul of “The heavy bells/The heavy bells/The heavy bells are tolling out a tune” is the kind of vocal that turns grey matter into grits. On the video, a turntable begins to smoke as red-lettered lyrics help the viewer to find meaning in Walston’s howls. My advice? Don’t bother reading. Just listen. Indecipherable lyrics and mumbled vocals did wonders for Nirvana.

The only time the album seems to fall flat is when it slows down. Without a jaunty bass line or drum beat, Waltons and crew sound less like balladeers and more like their trying to catch their breath between numbers. Fortunately, it’s never for long. “Boys Can Never Tell” has the potential to be great, but the hook sounds less like emotion, and more like the Ambien is kicking in.  “Nobody Knows” is rescued when rest of the The Business join Walston’s piano about a minute and a half into the song. Jerry Lee-Lewis was at his best when there was a  “Whole Lotta Shakin’ Goin On.” Walston and his manic, gospel-inspired piano playing seem to abide by the same principle.

With influences like Lewis, The Replacements, Randy Newman and pre-Disco era Bee Gees, Walton the Business have a lot to work with. There are touches of The Band, Creedence Clearwater Revival, Big Star and (dare I say it) early-Kings of Leon, that other Tennessee-rock outfit, in their music. So grab a sweet tea. Roll down the car windows and turn it up. Just try not to get a speeding ticket on the way.

Adam