
This is an excerpt from the print edition of Dirty Linen #145 (January/February 2010).
The full article is in the magazine, available on newsstands, by subscription, and at the Dirty Linen webstore.

by Michael Parrish
| It's a familiar story: a group of hot young musicians get together, slam out a brilliant
album and then begin a long creative slide as their talents and creative energies wane
over the years. For Bay Area quintet Houston Jones, this process has worked in reverse:
A group of road-tested musicians came together in their middle years, found a collective
songwriting muse, and forged a unique and energetic chemistry. As lead singer and
rhythm guitarist Travis Jones explained, "Thank God there is a term, 'Americana,' that
we can lump ourselves into, or we'd have to call it bluegrass-gospel-folk-blues-jazz-rock.
The whole point is, we all have a varied background. We're all in our 50s; none of us are
kids. We all just went through the program and, finally, we got to the point where we
synthesized all of our experiences, so we can bring in all our influences to create this
unique thing."
Onstage, the band is a study in contrasts. Bespectacled lead guitarist Glenn Houston (a stage name -- his real surname is Pomianek), the only band member that does not sing, displays an almost Zen-like focus as he spins out tasty electric, acoustic, or slide guitar licks. Houston confounds aspiring guitarists in the audience with his technique, which involves playing a conventionally strung guitar left-handed, and thus upside-down. Jones is a commanding presence at midstage, his extroverted demeanor and powerful pipes attesting to his years in musical theater and as a gospel preacher. Behind them, hirsute drummer Peter Tucker resembles a benevolent Buddha, with his relaxed posture a sharp contrast to his powerful, on-the-money rolls and fills. The conservative demeanor of white-haired bassist and principal songwriter Chris Kee, seated cradling his upright bass, is consistent with his day job as an attorney, but his skill on his instrument readily demonstrates why he is bassist of choice for musicians such as Peter Rowan and Buddy Miller. One can easily imagine bespectacled, long-haired Henry Salvia, who is crouched over his keyboards like a mad scientist, in his daytime role as a Silicon Valley software engineer. |
This is an excerpt from the print edition of Dirty Linen #145 (January/February 2010).
The full article is in the magazine, available on newsstands, by subscription, and at the Dirty Linen webstore.
Copyright © 2009 Visionation, Ltd.