alt country

West of Rome: “Movement In Your Picture”

South Texas rockers West of Rome are here to dislodge the kernel from your craw and even offer you a spittoon so you can get that novel, satisfying “ting.” The band is made-up of childhood friends who, in the absolute tumult leading up to and including the pandemic, decided to finally come together creatively to carve out their own little slice of happiness and maybe try to make a little bit of sense of the mishegoss.

And while their alt-country-for-the-dance-hall sound does make for a perfect night in your mud kickers, the songwriting digs as deep as their energy whirrs. In “Movement In Your Picture,” the lead single off the group’s debut album Keep It Fly In the Negative Zone, singer Kevin Higgenbotham pontificates on life’s unanswered questions and windows of opportunity that were never opened past the curtains.

West of Rome brings a night freewheeling fun to the Continental Club tomorrow night for a long-awaited album release show with Warren Hood.

Luke Smith: “Jimmy”

We’re right at Pride Month’s midpoint, so just as a refresher: no matter how you identify, be proud of yourself! At the same time, it’s worth acknowledging our place in a progressive city, a quarter century into the 21st, because not every Queer person’s been blessed with those privileges; more often than not, it’s a real struggle for acceptance that ends with the ostracized eventually splitting town.

Like, look at singer-songwriter-pianist Luke Smith. After spending time in Seattle with outfits like St. Yuma and Westmoreland, Smith has cemented himself within our city limits, where he (with the help of his backing trio) dropped his debut LP The World Is Such a Beautiful Place a month back. Not the biggest transition in terms of migrating between musical hubs, but growing up Queer in rural Oklahoma was obviously a much different story.

And as a matter of fact, that was the basis for Smith’s own fictional retelling of events, “Jimmy”. Wrapping up the The World…‘s first act, “Jimmy” maintains the LP’s mellow keyboard core and sense of cautious optimism against oppressive realities, in this case delivered from the perspective of an estranged sibling. It’s a poignant addition to an already-powerful album and a beautifully bleak interpretation of how much pain can come from a loss of belonging.

So remember, make others feel welcome around you. Otherwise you might end up making them leave. And there’s no need to put extra pain on anyone else’s plate in this perfectly flawed planet.