Black Joe Lewis & The Honeybears
It’s an increasingly rare occurrence that a new band excites me. At 27 cynicism has set in and I’ve already found myself getting more kicks from 40 and 50 year old music than much of the tiresome, uninspiring music of today.
Black Joe Lewis and the Honeybears are completely different. They play the kind of 60’s garage/soul/R&B that just isn’t being made these days. Not with the same energy, enthusiasm, cool and delivery.
Lewis, the perfect front man, is the kind of guy that makes girls swoon and boys want to emulate him. He doesn’t dress particularly well and he’s not especially good looking, but he’s cooler than you or I could ever dream of being. The obvious comparison is a young James Brown – they definitely share the same sense of passion and soul – and the more rock’n’roll elements might make you think of Jimi Hendrix. I am not even ashamed to make those comparisons because, honestly, they are not in anyway unfair or disrespectful to either of these late-legends.
It’s not all about Lewis though – the band is vitally important. Zach Ernst on guitar is faultless, as is the rather eccentric Ian Varley on keys. Together, the band is remarkably tight. It’s easy to forget that you are listening to bunch of 20 something year old white guys (with the exception of Lewis) and not a band plucked straight out of 1960’s Georgia.
They formed while Lewis was working in a pawn shop in Austin, Texas. Guitarist Ernst booked Lewis to open for Little Richard at a University event. Not a bad opening showcase for Joe.
Their debut album, Tell ‘Em What Your Name Is, is an exceptionally special collection. From the frenetic opener “Gunpowder” to the epic “Get Yo Sh*t”, this album will have your foot aching from involuntary tapping. Perfect horns, perfect keys, perfect rhythm and of course perfect singing. I could name more stand out tracks, but there’s no point – it’s all killer, no filler.
I was lucky enough to be one of about 20 people who caught their first ever UK appearance at the recent Lovebox Festival in Victoria Park. I think I may have been the only person at that fringe stage who had ever heard of them before. Each and every attendee, however, will not forget the show they put on. I looked around midway through their set and couldn’t see anyone who wasn’t completely lost in the remarkably tight music these guys thrash out.
I’ll leave you after saying the following: buy their album, see them live if you get the chance, support this band and dance like you’ve lost all sense of shame. You can thank me later.
