PRESS | 2006

Tucson Weekly vist the website
December 2006
By GENE ARMSTRONG

The Weary Boys provide listeners with an honest-to-goodness pleasure

In these times, much discussion is given over to the concept of "keeping it real." Well, in a world of musical Twinkies and Ding Dong bands, The Weary Boys are a fresh, home-baked pie. Probably a strawberry-rhubarb pie, since these boys' tunes sound very sweet and very tart at different times.
On their recent fifth album, Jumpin' Jolie, the five-piece band from Austin, Texas, plays country, blues, bluegrass, vintage rock 'n' roll and Cajun music as if they grew up playing it on the back porch, at the barn dance, in the roadhouses and on the street corner.
Now, they're returning to Tucson play Friday, Dec. 8, at The Hut.
Mario Matteoli, a guitarist, singer and songwriter in the Weary Boys, can't remember just how many times his band has played in Tucson. As a roots-music-oriented city, it always seems to be on the band's itinerary.
"We've played there ever since we've been touring," he says during a recent telephone interview. "We really like the other musicians and the audience there."
The Weary Boys must dig Tucson. They tracked their third CD, 2003's Good Times, at downtown's Wavelab Studio, a recording destination for out-of-town artists such as Neko Case, DeVotchka, John Doe, Steve Wynn, Barbara Manning and Norfolk and Western, not to mention locals like Giant Sand, Calexico and Nick Luca.
Let's suspend the debate about whether the Weary Boys come by their sound in authentic fashion--they didn't study at the feet of old African-American musicians in the Deep South. These guys are all in their mid- to late-20s, and three of them are from Northern California, for goodness' sake.
But the Weary Boys play raw roots music that feels right and real and is an honest-to-goodness pleasure in a time when artificial pop stars are force-fed to worldwide audiences via multinational media outlets.
Even relatively recent musical categories such as alt-country and Americana are born as music-marketing brands pasted onto homegrown music to package it according to a recipe approved by focus groups.
Matteoli agrees. "When you hear about alt-country Americana these days, it's pretty predictable. There's a certain sound you can expect it to be--like emo with steel guitar," he says.
"We have our roots in country and blues and Cajun music--that's from playing out in Louisiana for the past six years. We take all those influences and come up with our sound, which we hope is unique and doesn't seem fake."
No kidding. On Jumpin' Jolie, the group's originals are twangy, down-home celebrations of the musical roots of the 20th century--lots of so-called alt-country bands would give their drummers' left pinkies to sound this real. Part of the credit must go to Rick Miller, leader of Southern Culture on the Skids, who helped record half of Jumpin' Jolie.
An element of the Weary Boys' appeal is in their rollicking refusal to respect the dividing lines between musical styles. After a searing Chuck Berry-style guitar lead on the rockin' "Baby's Got a Hold on Me," fiddler Brian Salvi jumps in with an old-timey solo in response.
Salvi does a wonderful of job of leading the band through amazing instrumentals such as "Lost Bayou Ramble" and "Hoot Owl." A bittersweet country stroll such as "Destination Nowhere" might call to mind the same sources that inspired the acoustic musings of the Grateful Dead, while "Drink on It" is a loose exploration of the country-rock the Jayhawks were so good at it.
And you haven't heard out-of-the-attic chestnuts such as "Vaya Con Dios" and "Jambalaya" sound this vigorous and relevant in years.
The Weary Boys were born when Matteoli, Salvi and guitarist-vocalist Darren Hoff--the band's creative core--decided to take their collective teenage experiences in bluegrass and rock bands and move from their native Humboldt County all the way down to Austin.
"We didn't realize it was the music capital of the world," Matteoli protests. "And we didn't know anybody and didn't have any gigs, so we just started playing on the street.
"We'd set up on the drag over by the college. I'd be playing through a Pignose portable, battery-powered amplifier, and we'd show up and play. We met our bass player that way. He was working at some sandwich shop near there, and he heard us."
It wasn't long before folks took notice.
"We actually played in front of these street vendors, who were selling jewelry and glass pipes or whatever the hell they were making. They seemed to like us fine. A year later, we were playing the Continental Club here and selling it out."
Bassist Darren Sluyter and drummer Cary Ozanian completed the band, and they set to recording and touring as soon as possible.
And like the gals in Otis Redding's "Try a Little Tenderness," these boys do get weary.
"I thought of that name when we were just brainstorming and throwing names around. We had just listened to Hank Williams' song, 'Weary Blues From Waitin',' and the Weary Boys seemed like a good old-fashioned name."
The name was meant to be whimsical, Matteoli says, but it turned out to be a tad prescient. "We also travel a buttload, and that's kind of turned out to be true."
Indeed, the Weary Boys have become road warriors in the past half-decade, traveling from the bayous of Louisiana to the forests of Washington, to maintain a schedule that has included upwards of 130 dates a year.
This year, they've slowed down a bit, because three of the band members have gotten married. They even took the summer off, Matteoli says.
But the band is back on the road for the holiday season, with Tucson an intermediate stop on a trip that will culminate in a Christmastime arrival in Humboldt County to visit family. Nice place for a rest stop.


Times-Standard vist the website
December 2006
By Elizabeth Casey

Nothin' is Weary About these Boys

The Weary Boys are back to treat us to a show at the Ferndale Firemen's Pavilion on Saturday Dec. 16, and they are anything but weary.

In 2000, the Northern California trio of Brian Salvi (vocals, fiddle), Darren Hoff (vocals, guitar), and Mario Matteoli (vocals, guitar) headed out to Austin, Texas to establish themselves as country musicians. It makes perfect sense that the band would head to Austin to refine their sound and become established. Austin is known as the live music capitol of the world, and the city contains hundreds of venues for emerging bands to get in front of live audiences. Once in Texas, The Weary Boys expanded the band to include Darren Sluyter (bass) and Cade Callahan (drums, vocals). Callahan was later replaced by the band's longtime friend Cary Ozanian (drums, vocals).

In their six short years together, these Weary Boys have made quite an impact on the Austin music scene, due in large part to their excellent work ethic. They first started as street performers and have moved up to performing regular gigs at well-known venues and have recently opened for some impressive old timers in country music, such as Willie Nelson, Merle Haggard, and Leon Russel. With almost constant shows all over Texas, its surrounding states, California, and even as far away as the Netherlands, they have gained the respect of hardcore country fans everywhere, and their popularity is growing.

The band has also done what few other bands seem to manage -- almost yearly recordings of high-quality albums that nicely showcase their talents and reveal their progression as both musicians and performers. These boys write solid, accessible, and consistently good songs that you can't help but like.

The Weary Boys is a brilliant name for a band; it manages to convey the easy-going, humble, and earthy reality of country life with just enough melancholy to let you know that these boys are not afraid to sing about what ails them (at least once in a while). But, this band is no country cliché. Far from it. They love to enjoy themselves as they work hard, making great music. Laughter and delight dance at the edges of many of their songs, and it's so captivating and refreshing.

The most intriguing feature of the Weary Boys music is its ease and softness. Some might bristle at that definition, but it's a good thing, trust me. These musicians are so centered in what they are doing, so road-hard, and comfortable with performing that they don't have to impress people. They just get up there and let their music loose while obviously enjoying their connection with each other and the audience. It's this compelling mix of the easy-going with their vigorous songwriting and performing skills that makes this band so likable and appealing. Even the cover songs they perform contain their unique stamp of quiet self-esteem and happy relaxation.

The Weary Boys' latest offering, “Jumpin' Jolie,” is lots of fun. You can expect upbeat, positive and energetic music that warmly blends bluegrass and country with a kick of rock 'n' roll. This album is a bit mellower overall than the boys' other albums and a couple of the songs are a bit weaker than their other offerings, but that's not to say that this release is less entertaining. The vocals are smooth and pleasing, the lyrics are strong and the album contains both original tunes as well as widely-known cover tunes.

”Jumpin' Jolie” has a nice balance of both fast and slow numbers, and the mix of songs is sensitive. For example, a relaxed rendition of the widely-recorded “Vaya Con Dios” is sandwiched by -- a boot-stampin' song -- “You're the One I Care For” and the fun, “Baby's Got a Hold on Me,” which blends a classic rock 'n' roll tempo with bluegrass fiddle and sly and clever lyrics.

With their impressive, accessible, and likable music and performances, The Weary Boys are well on their way to country music stardom.Elizabeth Casey is a widely published freelance writer and the owner of ButterFat Publishing & Writing Services, Inc. Contact her at northernlights@times-standard.comIf you go: The Weary Boys concert is at the Ferndale Fireman's Pavillion on Saturday, Dec. 16 at 9 p.m. Tickets are $8 at the door.

Tallahassee Democrat vist the website
November 2006
By Kati Schardl
Get energized with rootsy, high-octane Weary Boys
The title song of the Weary Boys' latest CD, "Jumpin' Jolie," sounds as if it was cooked up during a beer-soaked summer night in the steamy musical kitchen of a juke joint deep in the heart of Louisiana bayou country.
But Northern California native and Weary Boys singer/guitarist Mario Matteoli, who's now based in music mecca Austin, Texas, didn't have to travel to the heart of Cajun country to find inspiration for the song.

"It's about my little sister Joelle," he said in a recent phone interview. "She was just goofing around the house, and I made up the song on the spot just to tease her."

The spry little song is a good introduction to the rest of the disc, which showcases the Boys' scruffy, rootsy brand of Americana. There are swampy instrumental throwdowns (“Lost Bayou Ramble" and "Hoot Owl"), rockabilly workouts (“Baby Have No Fun"), odes to the joys of adult beverages (“Drink On It"), whiskey-fueled homesick laments (“California Sunset") and a couple of choice covers (“Vaya Con Dios" and "Jambalaya").

"Jumpin' Jolie" is the third Weary Boys recording. Most of the tracks were recorded at Southern Culture on the Skids frontman Rick Miller's state-of-the-art studio in North Carolina.

"Rick's awesome," Matteoli said. "He's got about 75 really cool old guitars and a bunch of amps. We got to hang out at his house for four or five days."

Miller knew just how to capture the Boys' loosey-goosey approach. But no recording can convey the band's real appeal - its high-octane, anything-goes live shows.

"A lot of people like our albums, and I'm glad about that, but most people talk about our live energy," Matteoli said. "I like it when we've got a good crowd and can get people dancing."

Y'all wouldn't want to disappoint the man, now, would you? Clear the decks and polish your party pumps for the Weary Boys show Sunday night with the Reclaimers and Tallahassee's own Americana outlaw Pat Puckett.

Amplifier Magazine vist the website
November 2006
By Alex Green
The Weary Boys
In spite of the fact that most of their members come from California, The Weary Boys display an almost forensic awareness of country music. Now based in Austin, TX, the Boys sound like they were born there in the same way John Fogerty sounded like he was really born on the bayou. Equal parts bluegrass, roots rock and traditional country, The Weary Boys have studied the right masters and, as a result their country cadences and twangy timing, are, to say the least, dead on. Their new album Jumpin’ Jolie is an effortless blend of back porch
acoustic music that’s steeped in the tradition of everyone from Hank Williams to George Jones. Between rootsy old time rave-ups (“Baby Have No Fun”), fiddling instrumentals (“Lost Bayou Ramble”, “Hoot Owl”) and a Tex-Mex cover of “Jambalaya,” there’s plenty to recommend. There’s nothing but reverence for Texas torch and twang here, and only on the homesick ballad “California Sunset” and the surf-tinged “Baby’s Got A Hold On Me” do the band tip their hand and give a nod to their California roots.

Orlando Weekly vist the website
November 2006
By OW Staff
The Weary Boys

To hell with what you hear on the radio. THIS is real country music. But despite Weary Boys’ neo-traditionalist bent, the young man’s vigor of this Austin band never shies from tapping other influences, usually bluegrass and rock & roll, to fire up the Fahrenheit. Typically, their shows are rafter-dusting honky-tonk affairs, but this time around should be special because the Boys have jacked their sound with shovelfuls of cayenne. Fitted with distinctly Cajun gear like rub boards and wobbly-drunk fiddles, Weary Boys’ latest album Jumpin’ Jolie sounds like they’ve been spending a lot of time on the bayou. Expect their rocking cover of Hank Sr.’s “Jambalaya” to bring down the house. Laissez les bons temps rouler, bitches!

Orlando Sentinel vist the website
November 2006

By Jim Abbott
Boys just wanna play Hank
Published November 10, 2006

'We can't really polish our sound up that much," says Brian Salvi, singer and fiddler for Austin, Texas, roots combo the Weary Boys, about the band's approach to its new studio album Jumpin' Jolie. "We had all the instruments isolated."

When it comes to the unvarnished sound of the Weary Boys, who play Tuesday at the Copper Rocket Pub in Maitland, separating the instruments qualifies as a technological leap. The band's albums are generally the product of one-take, look-everyone-in-the-eye inspiration.

"I think of us as more of a live band," Salvi says by phone from his home about 20 miles outside Austin. "Recording is cool and everything, but it can be monotonous. It's not as much fun as playing live."

The band's ease in front of an audience can be traced to its early days playing street corners in Austin. Salvi and band mates Darren Hoff and Mario Matteoli migrated to the Lone Star State from Southern California. There, they were among the few young bands playing Hank Williams tunes instead of surf punk.
"Everybody was trying to be Kurt Cobain," Salvi says. "It wasn't that common to see a bunch of teenagers trying to play folk music. Mario and his brother, they got a Hank Williams record somehow and Darren was always a good singer."

Salvi pulled a violin out of his parents' closet, an instrument he had used in elementary-school orchestra.

"It came in handy later," says Salvi, who still plays the same instrument in a lineup that also includes bassist Darren Sluyter and drummer Cary Ozanian. "We started playing Hank Williams, and we haven't strayed too far from that formula."

Nowadays, the band also shifts into Cajun and Link Wray-type rock and indulges its affection for The Band with frequent concert covers of "Ophelia" and "Don't Do It."

Along with rowdy originals such as "Drink On It," Jumpin' Jolie includes covers of the standard "Vaya Con Dios" and a classic Williams tune, "Jambalaya."
"That's a song we first started playing 10 years ago," Salvi says of "Jambalaya." "We hadn't played it in quite a few years, but it just felt real good. It just has real meaning to us."

The country bump

There wasn't any Hank Williams on Monday's 40th annual CMA Awards Show, just a lot of Brooks & Dunn.

The duo that hosted the show took home most of the awards handed out in the televised ceremony. These guys aren't the most charismatic hosts, even if Kix Brooks has an offhand charm with an occasional one-liner.
Maybe next year, the CMAs can get Faith Hill to host, so she can offer her spontaneous appraisals of the winners.

In case you missed it, a backstage camera apparently caught Hill mouthing the word "What?!" when Carrie Underwood won for top female vocalist. Apparently, that's a big snub in country-music land, which makes you wonder what they call the stuff that was said about the poor Dixie Chicks.

Underwood, meanwhile, was one of the country stars who experienced an online sales bump because of her CMA exposure: Her Some Hearts went from 68 to 39 on Amazon's list of top music sellers.

Brad Paisley's Time Well Wasted, the winner for best album, enjoyed a 180 percent sales increase, while Brooks & Dunn's Hillbilly Deluxe went up 328 percent.

I'd still recommend Hank Williams.

Satellite Mag vist the website
November 2006
By Bill Bryson
The Weary Boys: Jumpin' Jolie

They play a sweaty mess of swinging country, bluegrass, and rock ‘n’ roll that both sends the listener back to an age of combo music that shakes dance hall walls and run cracks through this modern time. Such music speaks straight to the heart with a weight that only tradition can build.
Possessing the solidarity of seasoned street performers, this band maintains a looseness that enables the music to expand through their collective communication. It is honest music, charting life’s ups and downs; it celebrates the highs with gusto and embraces the lows in their bluest.
Following the swinging frolic of “Jumpin Jolie” and “Lost Bayou Ramble” the loping and laissez-faire “Drink On It,” the stealthy and beguiling “Baby’s Got a Hold on Me” and the grim destiny of “Destination Nowhere” demonstrate the range that they rumble through on this soundtrack for a sweaty summer party in the woods here in Hogtown.
Inspired heavily by Hank Williams — and don’t forget his bayou tendencies — taking plenty of rock ‘n’ roll from Jerry Lee Lewis, and country soul from Johnny Cash, the Weary Boys are one special tincture. This disc represents the band much in the way I heard them play in the back of Satchel’s (Lightnin’ Salvage) — warm, beery, breezy, and grinnin’.
Thanks go out to some industrious fun-finders in our community who made it their mission to introduce Gainesville to the Weary Boys, and we have those lone rangers to thank because the downhome music is as at home in the swamp as it is in Tejas. The Weary Boys return to play the Side Bar Nov. 13.

Savannah Now vist the website
November 2006
The Weary Boys: A hard-working, foot-stomping band

Austin, Texas, the self-proclaimed "Live Music Capital of the World," is a notorious dream-crusher, chewing up would-be artists at an alarming rate. In a town where you can't throw a nickel without hitting a musician, you've really got to stand out. Or in the case of The Weary Boys- who in 2000 relocated to Austin from their native northern California - really fit in.
Fitting in, it turns out, would be a natural for the group, whose unbridled brand of old-school country and Americana echoes the spirit of Austin's famed "outlaw" movement, while also charting some new ground in the scene. Since the original core of the band uprooted to Texas, The Weary Boys have beat the Austin odds, graduating from local street busking to dive bars, to nicer bars, to festivals and near-constant touring all over the region and beyond. In the process they've opened for legends like Willie Nelson, Merle Haggard, Leon Russell, Southern Culture on the Skids, the Drive-by Truckers and a host of others.
Featuring propulsive guitars, backwoods fiddle, and close harmony vocals, The Weary Boys incorporate elements of bluegrass, zydeco, rockabilly, and early rock-and-roll into their growing catalog of original tunes and similarly styled covers. They've been generating some significant buzz on the roots music circuit of late and continue to build on their reputation as a hard-working, hard-playing, foot stomping, good-times band.
They've delivered five records in the last six years, the latest of which, "Jumpin' Jolie," was recorded at (Southern Culture on the Skids frontman) Rick Miller's North Carolina studio.
"Jolie" has been hailed as the group's strongest effort to date, earning consistently solid reviews for its raw and genuine sound.
This is a must-see for fans of raucous and rowdy blue-collar roots music.


The Stars of Texas
October 2006 volume 2 Issue 9
by: Glenn Taylor

Weary Boys, Jumpin' Jolie

Coming at you like a freight train, straight out of Austin, Texas by way of Humbolt County, California, it's The Weary Boys! Now don't let their name fool you, cuz this ain't no high lonesome bluegrass band, although bluegrass is indeed an ingredient mixed into the Weary Boys sound. It's also got a fair amount of country, rock and even zydeco thrown in for good measure. The result is a sound that will make you move your feet, even if you're no kind of dancer. The title cut grabs you right away, with a sound reminiscent of Buddy Holly and the Crickets, if they'd have had a fiddle in the band. Speaking of fiddle playing, Brian Salvi is another in a handful of players who are re- defining that instrument and breathing life back into an apparatus that is frequently found, but not necessarily heard on today's generic country radio. Led by Mario Matteoli (vocals and guitar) the Weary Boys are one of those rare bands that works hard at staying loose and they aren't afraid of borrowing from the old to create something new. New traditionalists, if you will. This is their fifth album and if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go out and hunt down the other four.


No Depression
September October 2006
by David Greenberger

Weary Boys, Jumpin' Jolie

The fifth album by Austin quintet the Weary Boys is rough-and-tumble country with at rock'n'roll heart. It's as suffused with the loopy and confident vigor of high octane spirits and boozy antics. While the actual subject of drinking shows up in a number of songs on
Junpin' Jolie --it's lazily hopeful imbibing in "Drink On It" and escapist whiskey in "California Sunset" -- it's the loose grooves and camaraderie that honor the
noble purpose of social brew. Primary writer Mario Matteoli crafts lyrics empowered by resonant small details, bringing characters to life.  The only misstep is a cover to Hank's "Jambalaya"; no doubt a raucous hoot live, it's merely pedestrian in the studio. Conversely, their performance of "Vaya Con Dios", with its laid-back pulse, oozes fully committed longing.


Country Standard Time
By Andy Turner

Jumpin' Jolie, Weary Records

On their fifth album in six years, Austin's Weary Boys continue to have their possum and carve it too. The quintet manages to uphold the traditions of bluegrass and country while creating an exciting and very modern sound known to send audiences into wild fits of drinking and dancing.

Recorded at Southern Culture on the Skids frontman Rick Miller's North Carolina studio, this is a more laid back affair, but it is no less thrilling. Band members, who share songwriting duties, pen simple, memorable tunes like "You're the One I Care For" and "Destination Nowhere" that have staying power. You might not expect a song called "Drink On It" to be pretty, but it will have you swaying in no time. "Baby's Got a Hold On Me" uses a Chuck Berry riff and self-referencing lyrics by Mario Matteoli to entertaining effect. Cajun influences are incorporated on a number of songs, including "Lost Bayou Ramble" and a soulful, rocking version of Hank Williams' Jambalaya."

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The Austin American-Statesman | Austin, TX
By — Michael Corcoran - June 30, 2006

The Weary Boys 'Jumpin' Jolie' (self-released)
Mario Matteoli 'Hard Luck Hittin' (self-released)

The Weary Boys haven't got a clue. Thank God. This five-member bluegrass group doesn't know what it is (except that it's not a bluegrass group). But even as the young Austinites soak up all sorts of Cajun protons and rockabilly neutrons floating around, the Boys also embrace Technicolor crooning and backwoods duets without coming off as gimmicky genre-hurdlers.

Credit inventive, observational songwriting and a far-from-weary backing band that gets to the heart of such stunning Mario Matteoli originals as the title track — with its deliciously greasy groove — the bittersweet pop of "Drink On It" and the intoxicating, revelatory "California Sunset."

But not everything rises from the mundane on "Jumpin' Jolie," which was produced mostly by Rick Miller of Southern Culture on the Skids (though three of the best tracks were helmed by Matt Hubbard at Pedernales). Covers of "Vaya Con Dios" and "Jambalaya" are pointless, and "Baby Have No Fun," written by Scott Biram, sounds like ordinary bar fare circa 1985.

The Weary Boys don't sound like they obsessed over this album, their fifth. They went for an overall feel, which has its holes. As a whole, though, "Jumpin' Jolie" is a fun romp with a few songs that will resonate after the party's over.

"Jolie" is a nice setup for Matteoli's first solo record, "Hard Luck Hittin'," which adds drippy keyboards and hitchhiker harmonica to the mix. It's a wonderfully reflective and — bonus! — richly melodic album that finds a 25-year-old man dealin' with feelings in a way that would make his songwriting idols Bob Dylan and Townes Van Zandt proud. Matteoli's main talent, as both Weary Boy and solo dude, is in seeing the songs in everyday life and finding the music that matches the emotions. His kid sister playing in the backyard was the inspiration for "Jumpin' Jolie," for instance. You can practically hear a bouncing trampoline in the infectious rhythm.

A standout cut on the solo album, "What To Do," also elevates simplicity to sacrament. "Do I love you/ Can I be a man," he sings into the manipulative eyes of love, while the engaging melody suggests that commitment isn't the worst thing in the world. If there's a theme to "Hard Luck Hittin,' " it's trying to decide what's worth standing for and what needs to go. It's a personal record that tramps on universal terrain, like on a title track that seems, at first, to be about being poor and famous — "I've got holes in my pocket, but I walk like a rock star" — but expands the scope to convey an uneasiness about a horizon filled with hard knocks in waiting.

Matteoli flaps his weary wings all over "Hard Luck Hittin,' " giving flight to his introspection with a tuneful delivery and the pure instincts of a true artist. And "Jumpin' Jolie" cements the Weary Boys as one of the hardest-thinking roots party bands out there.

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Tucson Citizen vist the website
December 2006
ByCorky Simpson

"Jumpin' Jolie" (Weary Records)
The Weary Boys are anything but.
This bunch is on fire - as energetic and enthusiastic and downright entertaining as anything stepping into the pastures of country music in a generation.

If you can listen fast enough . . . this is one amazing group of bluegrass or hillbilly or rockabilly - bluebilly, maybe? - performers.
And they're no strangers to Tucson, having visited here often. The boys will return June 24 to the Vaudeville Cabaret.

In their newest CD, "Jumpin' Jolie," The Weary Boys' energy, good humor and pure-dee musicianship sizzles. These guys sing in capital letters and, as one reviewer put it, you find it hard to sit still while listening to them.

Currently composed of Mario Matteoli, Darren Hoff, Brian Salvi, Darren Sluyter and Cary Ozania, the Boys are one of the hottest groups in bluegrass, country or any other category of popular music.

They are wild and crazy and red-hot on some of their original stuff, but right-there with the best performers ever to sing such country standards as "Vaya Con Dios" and "Jambalaya." Both numbers are on the new album.

Tucson can be proud this exquisite collection of talent from northern California has been here often. Let's keep the boys coming.

The Stranger
Seattle, WA - By: Kurt B. Reighley

When the Drive-By Truckers warned, "don't sing with a fake British accent" on their 2003 song "Outfit," they certainly weren't admonishing Austin, Texas, ensemble the Weary Boys. On their Jumpin' Jolie album, these fellas plunge into straight-up country, bluegrass, and rock, while flirting with gospel and Latin flavors, too. Yet their songs never feel like exercises in method acting. Regardless of the genre or style, the quintet make whatever they play sound remarkably off-the-cuff. And mesmerizing, too, right down to the instrumentals.

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Phoenix New Times
Phoenix, AZ - By Henry Cabot

Rejuvenated Men

They ain't weary and they ain't boys, but they are the Weary Boys, a handful of Humboldt County, California, escapees who got up one day, stretched, and decided to pack up the '87 Buick Century and drive to Austin, Texas, sight unseen. "It seemed like a nice place to want to go to," says band member Darren Hoff.

The fact that Austin was already loaded with aspiring bands didn't seem to have presented much of an obstacle as they made friends, music and albums. Their most recent CD, Jumpin Jolie, makes five discs in six years.

Most of the band members grew up together in Eureka, California. Darren Hoff sings and plays rhythm guitar, Cary Ozanian taps the snare, Brian Salvi is the fiddler, Darren Sluyter is the bass player, and Mario Matteoli sings and plays lead guitar. Folks called them punky bluegrassers and such, mostly because they had energy and a kind of anything-goes attitude, but really they're traditionalists, tossing in a bit of whatever catches their eyes and stirring it up. They tour quite a bit and have even played for inmates of Louisiana's Angola Prison, which Hoff and Matteoli talked about in a recent interview with New Times.

New Times: Did you suffer much culture shock moving from Humboldt to Austin?

Darren Hoff: Not so much. Both places are a weird balance of redneck and hippie. Humboldt is rural -- fishermen, loggers, dairy farmers -- so there is that redneck element, and then there's the straight-up hippies.

NT: On what side of the line do you fall?

DF: We do wear cowboy boots, but we have long hair and beards going on, so . . .

NT: Did you leave Eureka fully formed, or have you changed much?

DF: We had the core influences down, and the core idea for the band, back in Eureka: Hank Williams and Ralph Stanley and Bill Monroe. Of course, when we got to Austin, we were bombarded with new stuff, and when we went to Louisiana we started hearing Cajun and swamp pop and zydeco music, which crept in and influenced us a lot.

NT: What about Texas music?

DF: We like to toss in some Doug Sahm.

Mario Matteoli: I got into the Texas Tornados, Waylon, and a lot of Willie Nelson. I'd heard that stuff before, but not as much of it before I got here.

NT: What's it like playing in a Louisiana prison?

MM: Playing prison was fun, a really responsive group -- they don't get much entertainment and they're happy to see you, which is cool. And we played a lot of jail songs: "My Main Trial Is Yet To Come," and "Stone Walls and Steel Bars" by the Stanleys, a few others.

NT: Plan on going back?

MM: We probably won't go there again 'cause it was really weird going through all the security. They said we smelled like pot and strip-searched us all. They said the dogs smelled drugs on us, but none of us had drugs. I really think it's because our fiddle player was up front and he looks like a hippie, you know? Other than that, it was a really good time.

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The Austin American-Statesman | Austin, TX
By — Michael Corcoran - April 18, 2006

Nothing Weary About The Boys

Turn your minuses into pluses. If you're a social outcast, for instance, use your creative drive to become famous so that everyone will want to hang out with you. Or, if you're about as far from being a violin virtuoso as Roger Clemens is from Vassar Clements, just keep throwing that high heat, baby.

Brian Salvi of the Weary Boys doesn't play the violin, he plays the fiddle. Saws it really, more than plays it. But as proven in front of an amped-up Continental crowd that hopped more than danced Saturday night, Salvi's the engine behind a band that gleefully massacres roots purists.

Guitarist Mario Matteoli, a clubland veteran at 25, is the band's steering wheel. His songs, including set-opening "You're the One I Care For" and new CD title track "Jumpin' Jolie" are the best ones. And his effortless rock star presence definitely spiked up the female energy in the packed room. Kid's got it.

But he lost it for a bit when, after pleading for five shots of Jameson for the band, three trays of shot glasses came to the stage and things got really loose really quickly. I hope Matteoli isn't always so out of key on "Dixie" and that "Rock Island Line" isn't always copied so rigidly from the Johnny Cash version.

Live, every song moved faster than on the records, even the trio of gospel songs that saluted Easter at mid-set.

The Wearies are, like being made by the Mafia, a concept that you buy fully, completely, unconditionally into. Or you don't even come near it. In a fan's mind, there were no missteps Saturday night, just moments that were rawer than the rest. And raw is good in this weary world.

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