PRESS | 2004
Dallas Observer| Dallas, TX | January 31, 2004
F5 | Witchita, KS | January 29, 2004
Tucson Weekly | Tucson, AZ | January 8, 2004
Dallas Observer| Dallas, TX
By Sarah Hepola - January 31, 2004
Everybody was drunk, the Weary Boys were tearing it up, and no one knew which one came first. But the floor trembled with foot stomps, and couples poured onto the dance floor, tumbling into each other and spilling their drinks. Old men at the bar looked up from their Jack Daniel's. Girls in the back whispered to each other, yelling on the count of three: "Mahh-reee-oooh!" And doe-eyed Mario was singing--his lips curled in a snarl, his hips swiveling, scooping up each country hiccup--and Brian was blazing on the fiddle and Darren was pickin' the acoustic dry, all of them playing that bluegrass like the whole goddamn bar was fixin' to blow. And the music was so fast, so full-throttle that people started pounding the stage, pounding their chairs, going, "Where'n hell did these boys come from?" Not knowing the boys had been in Austin less than a year. Not knowing they were from California, of all places, a little logging and fishing town just shy of the Oregon border. Not knowing they'd played Louisiana State Angola Prison, and probably fit in with the prisoners better than with the hippies who'd come out to see them at Austin's Continental Club that night. Whoo-weee, them Weary Boys can play--the old standards from Ralph Stanley and Bill Monroe, sure, but a fair share of their own songs, too. And those aren't even half-bad. Not that we were too discerning that night, what with the hootin' and the dancin' and the cryin' and the beer. And the beer. And the beer. Damn them Weary Boys.
back to top
F5 | Witchita, KS --website
by Jedd Beaudoin - January 29, 2004
Good Times — Weary Boys
Weary Records, 2003
Good Times provides us with a glimpse of the many and diverse voices and experiences that comprise this thing we've come to know and love and revere called Americana. There are places to be remembered (witness their take on Jimmy Rogers' "California Blues" and the original "Eureka Town"), women to remember and to avoid (whether "Sweet Pauline" or "Cruel Corrine") and various and sundry characters of varying repute (whether "Big Red Fella" or the man issuing the "Kneeling Drunkard's Plea"), whose fortunes, good or bad, we can't help but revel in hearing.
The characters who come to life in songs such as "Never Be Lonely," "Rosarita #4" and "Two Long Years" are often as worthy of our attention and affection as those found in the works of John Steinbeck and John Dos Passos, Hank Williams and Willie Nelson, even a Sticky Fingers-era Keith Richards and Mick Jagger, each of them telling their story with aching clarity, the ache coming either from our laughs ("Copenhagen") or tears ("Good Times").
Like the Nitty Gritty Dirt Band and Pure Prairie League before, the Weary Boys is a band given to working with tradition but with an eye fixed on the future, with thoughts of taking American music one or two steps into the future and leaving it a better art form for having known the band.
The Weary Boys will play John Barleycorn's Friday night, Jan. 30.
back to top
Tucson Weekly | Tucson, AZ
by Spephen Seigel - January 8, 2004
Texas Tornadoes
No rest for Austin's Weary Boys.
The Weary BoysRootsy Austin five-piece the Weary Boys have spent so much time in Tucson during the last year or so, they might want to consider investing in a time-share.
In June, the band shot footage for a video during a live performance at Vaudeville Cabaret. Prior to that, in March, they hunkered down for a week at WaveLab Studios, recording their latest self-produced album, Good Times (Weary Records), which was engineered by Tucsonan Randy McReynolds and mixed by McReynolds and WaveLab head honcho Craig Schumacher. (They're also currently managed by the Rialto Theatre's Jeb Schoonover.) Along the way, they've amassed a loyal and growing local following, and rightly so.
The Boys, whose current lineup consists of Mario Matteoli (vocals, guitar, harmonica), Darren Slyder (bass), Darren Hoff (vocals, guitar), Brian Salvi (fiddle, Wurlitzer, vocals) and Cary Ozanian (drums, piano, vocals), began life in California's Humboldt County, where Salvi, Matteoli and Hoff shared time in rock and bluegrass bands. Realizing they weren't exactly setting the world on fire from their Northern Cal environs, the three decided to get a bit more serious about pursuing music together. They piled into a Buick pointed toward the more music-friendly Austin.
As anyone who's been to Austin knows, the last thing Texas' capital city needs is another neo-traditional country/bluegrass band, but the twentysomethings' naivete somehow worked in their favor. The boys checked into a Ramada and began looking for a place to live, as well as the jobs to pay for it. At the same time, they also began playing on the street to keep a bit of cash coming in. The area they chose for busking was Austin's open-air Renaissance Market, famed for helping to launch the careers of Lucinda Williams and Poi Dog Pondering in decades past, and they got a similarly positive reception. After working their way through the town's punk and roots clubs over the next two years, the group scored a prestigious weekly gig at Austin's famed Continental Club, and they began hitting the road.
In 2002, the band released two albums, the self-released studio effort Weary Blues and a self-titled album which showcased the band's raucous, spirited live performances. Both demonstrated a band with reverence for the history of traditional country and high-and-lonesome bluegrass (the albums were split between covers and originals), but one who didn't quite have the chops of, say, Flat and Scruggs (though they compensated for it by playing with tremendous passion, at breakneck speed). And, though there was a lot of respect demonstrated for the music's conventions, they also strayed from standard bluegrass-isms by incorporating the electric twang of a Fender Telecaster.
Good Times, then, is a slight departure. Though there are some uptempo tunes (e.g., the speedy "Copenhagen," which benefits from Ian Harrison's guest spot on banjo and clocks in at a mere 1:26; an inspired take on the Carter Family classic, "Kneelin' Drunkard's Plea"), the disc spotlights the band's gentler (if not necessarily kinder) side; in other words, ballads comprise the bulk of the 16 songs here. "Rosarita #4" falls squarely into the folk singer/songwriter tradition, harmonica break and all, while "Sweet Pauline" resembles a countrified version of Leadbelly's "In the Pines." Cover "Two Long Years" is a standard bad-livin' prison lament highlighted by Salvi's lovely violin playing, and Hoff's "Never Be Lonely" is a gorgeous, piano-abetted plodder. All told, it's a far cry from the boisterousness Tucsonans have come to expect based on the band's frequent local appearances.
Are the Weary Boys slowing down and becoming men? This week's live performance should provide an answer.
back to top