Mic Harrison and the High Score started as the merging of a backing band for Harrison’s solo work, but has become a band in itself over the years. After John Paul Keith moved on from the regionally beloved band the V-Roys to pursue his solo career, Harrison stepped in and joined the band for their run of albums on Steve Earle’s former label and cemented themselves in Southeastern roots rock clubs. (Former V-Roys member Scott Miller is also an alumnus of Country Fried Rock.)
Latest Blog Posts
Mendelsohn: Like most people, I tend to romanticize the music of my youth a little. There are groups from the 1980s that loom large in the back of psyche because they managed to enter my brain and then stick there for a couple of decades before surfacing like some unwelcome repressed memory. I never really got to live through the cultural impact of some of these groups. I was far too young to understand the zeitgeist. My music consumption as a kid was pretty much limited to whatever my parents were listening to at the time, which wasn’t all bad, but they weren’t always following the trends. Inevitably, though, some of the current music seeped in and stuck around.
The impossible has happened: Cannibal Ox have released a second album.
Some are not too surprised by this development, given that the duo consisting of Vast Aire and Vordul Mega dropped a short EP in 2013 after over a decade of inactivity. At the start of that decade, 2001 specifically, a little album called The Cold Vein was released, produced by Company Flow’s El-P and the flagship full-length for his new record label Definitive Jux. With Vordul and Vast’s poetic, dense lyrics given a dark, brooding atmosphere in the form of El-P’s beats, the album quickly became a stone-cold classic, immediately putting the label on the map, setting the guys up for success, and redefining the very possibilities of what indie rap could do at a time when more indie-centric press was finally coming into prominence.
So what the hell happened?
Back in 2012, we spoke with James McMurtry about his live album and new songs in the works. The legendary Texas songwriter moves slowly, until he pounces like a leopard, both in song and repartee. McMurtry just released the album containing those aforementioned new songs, Complicated Game.
Klinger: My disdain for the music of the 1990s is well-documented, but in my defense I feel like I came by it honestly. My post-collegiate years were, for the most part, a time adrift, trying to figure out what I was supposed to be doing with my life. Which does tend to conjure up memories of cheap beer hangovers and overdue utility bills. So you’ll have to forgive me when I can’t muster up much nostalgia for that time. Still and all, there were bright spots in that time, and one of them was Uncle Tupelo. The group might be best known as the well-spring from which we received Wilco and Son Volt, but for me they were an entity unto themselves, both with No Depression, the album we’re talking about today, and its follow-up, 1991’s Still Feel Gone.