Weird Banjos and Furrowed Brows

If you’re a fan of modern-banjo country rock, you’ll be pleased to hear that Danny Barnes is rolling through town this week. Fans of unexpected covers will probably be pleased, too, though for haters of the above, it might behoove you to just stay home and get drunk — Barnes’ banjo style is strange (to say the least) and his songwriting is even stranger. While it’s clear that he has a comfortable grasp of both country and bluegrass traditions, he tries to peel away the layers of each genre and create an entirely new sound which, to put it bluntly, is really fucking weird. Though a step up from the likes of Big & Rich and Jason Aldean, Barnes’ big saving grace is his experience. From a young age he began garnering knowledge and skill with country, bluegrass, jazz, rock and even punk, and so a mélange of styles is able to shine through the country harmonies and banjo chunk.



Despite an array of solid testimonials from the likes of Sam Beam, Dave Matthews and Keller Williams, among others, I found myself with furrowed brow as I listened to his most recent release, Pizza Box. The album is redeemed mostly by its use of guest musicians and some of the more rockin’ riffs — beyond that I found it hard to imagine myself ever wanting to pick up Danny Barnes again. As previously stated, fans of this genre will certainly get a kick out of this one; to each his own, that’s what makes music great. As for the aforementioned covers: check out his (almost weirder) version of Beck’s “Loser” from 2003’s Dirt on the Angel. Beyond all this, I’ll leave it up to you to decide.

Danny Barnes plays with Betty & the Boy at 8:30 pm Friday, Feb. 11, at the Axe & Fiddle; $10.

EW 2/10

Calling From the Sun

Re-discovering Marcy Playground

There’s no denying that Marcy Playground was one of the better one hit wonders of the 1990s, but they happened to be sitting on a whole mountain of gems when their eponymous LP was released in 1997. Forgotten in a haze of constant “Sex and Candy” airtime, the other eleven tracks that fill the record are not only enjoyable, they are fucking awesome.



Grunge meets nineties pop, folk and rock to create a solid—and remarkably original—effect. Acoustic guitars, often layered, lie at the foreground of many tracks while John Wozniak’s vocals ring out in a calm, dull drone beneath (for an example of this technique go back into the annals of your memory and re-listen to “Sex and Candy”). Other tracks, such as “Sherry Fraser” and “One More Suicide” find Wozniak at the front, singing his heart out.


The truly remarkable thing about Marcy Playground is that their entire existence was drowned out by that one song—which is, in my opinion, far from the best track on the record—and all of those other beauties were forever buried somewhere. Who knows, maybe a few people out there would still love to see Marcy Playground live to hear their other tracks. I, for one, would definitely get down.