Kirk Rundstrom Wicked Savior Ind.

By William Michael Smith

	Now I don't have any scientific proof. I haven't heard anything about it on The O'Reilly Factor or on Hannity and Colmes. I've watched Matt Lauer and the Today Show hardballers religiously and if they know, they aren't telling. That fount of all that is music, MTV's Kurt Loder, hasn't mentioned it. In fact even those super sleuths Rush Windbag and Matt Fudge haven't caught wind of the evil plot (possibly Clinton-inspired) to subvert one of our cherished national institutions. But I am certain beyond any doubt that there is a Dark Force at work in country music, a black hole which radiates no light but which sucks everything in its path in at warp speed and disintegrates entire atomic structures so that no trace of their existence....exists anymore. This force of Evil can only be perceived by the high wail of banjo sounds which maintain a protective force field around its supernova inner core, by the dangerous, asylum-quality, they-won't-ever-take-me-alive vocals emanating from its dark, moist center, by an intense cacophony of rhythms deep within its bowels operating somewhere off the color spectrum past the speed of light. And that Evil Force is known as Kirk Rundstrom. By day, our Mr. Rundstrom, formerly the evil mastermind behind the rambunctious backwoods punkabilly band Scroat Belly, masquerades as the leader of the most manic, overly aggressive, gonzo all-acoustic band in these United States, one Split Lip Rayfield. But by night, our omnipresent Mr. Rundstrom dares go where his bluegrass demons cannot follow, over to the Dark Side where there are electric bass guitars, electric steel guitars, and (horror of horrors) drums. What results is a stylistic assault on our very birthright, on the beloved memory of the Holy Trinity, Jimmie Rodgers, Mother Maybelle Carter, and Lester Flatt (amen!). The effect of this evil magnetic musical force field is so hypnotizing that once heard, it prevents the listener from going back to that safe and familiarly well lit side from which he came. No one on the scene today has twisted the conventions of country music like the prolific, overly-talented, supremely inventive Kirk Rundstrom. On "Wicked Savior," he assembles an all-star cast from the country music fringes and the New Orleans underground to forge a record unlike any country record you've ever heard. I promise. The only thing that's ever come close is Kinky Friedman, but Kinky wasn't backed up by these kinds of musicians. And frankly, as a songwriter Mr. Friedman was possessed of a safer, kinder, gentler variety of insanity than the dangerous Mr. Rundstrom, he of the acoustic-six-string-guitar-that-NASA-should-know-about. Never has a surlier, more don't-mess-with-me-if-you-know-what's-good-for-you set of songs been written in the country genre. Mr. Rundstrom's spews forth an intense litany of bank robberies, murders, villains on the run, bad women with knives, dangerous mixtures of alcohol and controlled substances, wrecked homes, catastrophic ass-whuppin's -- and gospel musings. Stand aside, Tim McGraw, your Rodeo Drive wardrobe might get spattered with stuff that won't come out in the dry cleaning if you get too close to this stuff. As noted above, Rundstrom surrounds himself with outstanding players. New Orleans' country blues folkster Mike West (see Scott Snidow's forthcoming review of Mr. West's latest record, "Home") played banjo and mandolin as well as sharing producing/recording duties with Rundstrom and Colin Sean Mahoney (drums). Split Lip Rayfield mates Eric Mardis (electric guitar, banjo, pedal steel guitar) and Jeff Eaton (he of the Ford gas tank single-stringed bass machine) lend many of the cuts that bluegrassy mountain feel that typifies Split Lip's sound. The recording ensemble is rounded out with Calvin Bennett on bull fiddle, Cody Bennett on fiddle, and Brian Schey on electric bass. Rundstrom plays it fairly straight until he gets to cut number 3. "Big Black Ford is' is a lazy ditty which plays by most of the standard country music rules. 'Drinkin' Again' is a more syncopated romp and features some of Rundstrom's jaded lyrics. Well they say that good lovers will always try to leave you But I say leavin' them first just saves a lot more time But on 'Outlaw' all hell breaks loose. 'Outlaw' is one of the most creative musical statements I've ever heard. How creative? It's part country, part bluegrass, part Social Distortion punk explosion, part Egyptian snake charmer chant. Listening to this song is like standing under a Saturn 5 rocket during liftoff. Guitarist Mardis doesn't just blow your hair back, he singes it ­ all the way to the scalp. I robbed a bank in Tulsa just last night .45 revolver did it right Said, "Hey, you punk, I think it's time to go I'll kick your ass from here to Mexico" Myshkin, the jazzy New Orleans folk performer and frequent musical partner of Mike West, does some vocalizing that can best be described (by me, at least!) as gypsy yodeling. Coupled with the manic country picking, speed freak drumming and a lead guitar track from some other planet beyond the limiting laws of E=MC2 (including the Les Paul Corollary and the Dick Dale Quantum Vibration Postulate), 'Outlaw' will have Lester Flatt rolling over in his grave and rock bands like REM and others of that ilk cowering in the corner, sucking their collective thumbs, and whimpering for their mamas to make the bully stop picking on them. This musical cruise missile comes equipped with a nuclear warhead that simply explodes any narrow, confining musical boundaries that get in its way. I sure hope the first thing the space aliens hear when they arrive here is 'Outlaw.' No matter what kind of Death Ray they are equipped with, they aren't going to mess with us after 'Outlaw,' I can assure you. In fact, they'll want to know where to deposit the tribute that Rundstrom and his band of cosmic rowdies must surely demand of visitors to his planet. What separates Mr. Rundstrom from the boys is that he can come right out of one of these cross-border stylistic seek-and-destroy onslaughts with a song like 'Whiskey's Gone' that is such a good honky-tonk jukebox song that you don't realize that the barbarians were just at your gates threatening to steal your children, massacre your livestock, and loot your college fund. Well the whiskey is gone but the pain's still there My baby is gone and I still care But the barbarians haven't left, they've just been regrouping. 'Come Out and Play' is another boundary-smasher that defies the usual descriptions but is as addictive as any narcotic to serious music adventurers. With gypsy rhythms, jazz riffs, Hungarian mandolin solos, and a guitar rhythm track that is turned down in the mix so that it becomes almost part of the percussion, this song rolls out of the speakers like an unstoppable force. This is not the tune to play for the kids right before bedtime. The amazing 'Riders' sees Cody Bennett doing some hot Stephane Grapelli-inspired gypsy fiddle work over Rundstrom's speed-of-light acoustic flat-picking and some nimble banjo. It all sounds very Django Reinhardt until the break comes around and Rundstrom does some more of those Egyptian snake charmer sounds, this time by looping his vocal lines through an effects chamber that makes them just barely unintelligible but that gives a certain gone-mad effect. There certainly has never been a sound like this on a "country" record. (I don't know why I'm even wasting precious pixels trying to describe this cut. Nor do I know why I'm even keeping "country" in my vocabulary. The old words and the old descriptions just don't work on this incredible tune. But I'll bet you can't just listen to it once! It's got a trance effect that just takes over the cerebral cortex.) In all seriousness, I don't know what to call Kirk Rundstrom's music. Amazon.com categorizes "Wicked Savior" as Indie Country. CDnow.com calls it country. MP3.com says it is alternative country. While country comes closest on the majority of cuts on "Wicked Savior," for comparison purposes I couldn't name another performer ­ and particularly a "country" performer - who does anything close to the unique mixtures of sounds and styles that Rundstrom achieves in his musical laboratory on some of the tracks on this tornado of an album. And there certainly is no country performer I'm aware of that approaches the music with Rundstrom's attitude and view of the possibilities. Energy radiates off some of these cuts like an uncontrolled nuclear meltdown. An amazing creative invention, "Wicked Savior" certainly is nothing mainstream country radio would come into contact with unless plenty of music condoms, rubber gloves and powerful antibiotics were readily available and a team of surgeons was standing by. It's way too weird and has too much of a backwoods "Deliverance" vibe for rock stations (who are probably in a bigger musical rut than even country radio). It would scare the pants off of folk music traditionalists and most of it is too off-beat and intense for your easy-going, good-timing Americana stations. Only the most open formatted and intellectually broad-minded disc jockeys will be airing this one, and that's almost criminal, akin to making a big to-do about Andy Warhol's painted soup cans while ignoring Picasso's "Guernica.." *"Wicked Savior" can be bought out of the trunk of Kirk Rundstrom's car at any of his live shows or at the usual places on the Internet like CDnow or Amazon. It can also be purchased and downloaded at www.mp3.com but you don't get Patrick Duegaw's wonderful cover art if you go that route. Contact William Michael Smith at: wms-at-rockzilla.net

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