Review: Reverend Peyton's Big Damn Band Battles the Pandemic With Blues Rock on 'Dance Songs for Hard Times'
We should get out of the way first thing that Reverend Peyton's Big Damn Band isn't. It has three members. Peyton on electric guitar, his wife Breezy Peyton on washboard and backing vocals, and drummer Max Senteny, who includes a plastic five gallon bucket as part of his kit. But that's just a numerical definition of “big.” Musically, the band delivers on Big Damn Band in spades. Their new album, Dance Songs for Hard Times, out now, turns their trademark mix of blues rock and psychobilly riffs toward serious topics like pandemic fears, economic hardships, and an unequal criminal justice system, while reserving a few songs for good old party tunes.
For those unfamiliar, the easy comp for Peyton is pre-Eliminator ZZ Top. Like that three piece group, Reverend Peyton's Big Damned Band manages to sound like it has 5 members, while retaining a DIY ethos that is enhanced by working with Grammy winning producer Vance Powell to record on analog equipment and having Peyton record his guitar and vocals together to enhance the “live to tape” experience.
Across the album's eight songs and compact 34 minutes (another intentional throwback) are songs that perfectly fit the album's title. Primarily uptempo and sung with gusto in Peyton's voice, which mixes the boom of Raul Malo with the stentorian delivery of Webb Wilder, the subject matter is often bleak. Says Peyton; ““I like songs that sound happy but are actually very sad. I don’t know why it is, but I just do.”
The best example of this, and the album's best song, is a harmonica-forward rail against there being two justice systems in America. “Poor folks to go to prison, and rich folks get forgiven” Peyton belts. Once you're arrested, it's even worse. “Don't matter if you're guilty if you can't make that bail. Get that public lawyer and you're going to jail.” If you don't listen to the lyrics (and it would take someone as dense as the guy a few months ago who was surprised by Rage Against the Machine's political stances to misinterpret lines like “fish without a license and it's handcuffs on your wrist, pollute the whole river and it's case dismissed.)”
“Ways and Means” leads off the album and tackles inequality from a different angle. On this song, Peyton notes how promotion and perception shapes who becomes a “famous rock star.” You can look anywhere in the commercial country market to see the truth. Looking good in a tight t-shirt and a hat or peddling a fantasy rural narrative where they all drink beer at the river on Saturday nights, the girls all wear Daisy Dukes, and everybody is white is much more important than musical ability, lyrical depth, or hard traveling. Kicking off with a smart blues riff, Peyton notes “I'm back on the road just like Kerouac”, but somehow to only still be “king of the laundromat.”
Unsurprisingly considering the past year (and a lingering illness for Breezy that could have been undiagnosed COVID-19), Peyton dedicates some of the album to commentary on current events. On “No Telling When,” he laments the loss of personal connection during isolation. “No telling when I'll see my mom again... No telling when I'll get to work again.”
But remember, these are “Dance Songs” for “Hard Times” so there is plenty of fun. On “Too Cool to Dance”, Peyton encourages a reluctant partner to seize the day, possibly its own pandemic reference. “We might not get a second chance. Don't tell me, baby, you're too cool to dance.” On the Carl Perkins-esque rocker “Rattle Can”, Peyton's vocals speed through the verses while the guitar and percussion establish a steady churn that is much less freight train than bullet train. It's the album's best showcase of the band's instrumental talents.
If you're feeling the hard times right now, and I can't imagine who wouldn't be, Dance Songs for Hard Times is just the cure for what ails you. Peyton and his Big Damned Band earn their Reverend title with an album that sounds like an energetic secular tent revival.