The Curst Sons have been on our radar for many years now. We’ve reviewed three of their six CDs, the latest being 2016’s excellent ‘The Jumping Flea’, hailing it as upbeat enough to get down to, while telling “dark stories of death and greed”. It is this combination of thoughtful, sometimes macabre, lyrics coupled with foot-stomping music – drawing on influences such as bluegrass, rockabilly, gospel, blues, roots and traditional folk from England, Ireland and the US – that makes them such a compelling and eminently danceable prospect.
Sometimes a four-piece, The Curst Sons play The Bootlegger on Friday night as a trio, with Tim Dunkerley on guitars, mandolin and vocals; Scott Smith on banjo, guitar, harmonica and vocals, and Willi Kerr – the one responsible for those dark lyrics – on vocals and percussion. These include a tambourine; skiffle artists’ favourite, the washboard, the rhythms amplified by a set of copper thimbles that Willi got from America and glued onto a pair of gloves; and a stick. Consisting of a long wooden staff and clusters of jangling bottle tops along its shaft, it is a more sophisticated version of folk music’s traditional monkey stick. According to Willi it goes by the name of “the mighty rhythm pole”.
The band kick off the evening with ‘Murder’, its irresistible scrubbed washboard and picked banjo rhythms set against knowingly dark lyrics – “Baby please throw me a line, I’m drowning in your eyes, I may look like I’m swimmin’ fine, but if you won’t be mine I’ll die… Murder! You’re killin’ me”. Everyone in the venue is instantly moving to the beat, with some already on their feet.
Next up is a rousing rendition of a traditional American folksong, ‘Railroad Bill’. Although the majority of their material is original, The Curst Sons have also included arrangements of traditional folk songs in their repertoire ever since they started out back in the late 90s. Railroad Bill himself was a violent 19th century chancer who would board freight trains and toss merchandise off the moving carriages, which he’d retrieve later on. All the roots songs they play this evening – including ‘Sam Hall’, ‘God Don’t Like It’, ‘Stewball’ and ‘Hobo’ – are handled with enthusiasm and energy, but also with a deep respect for the historical versions.
It is the band’s original material that really hits the mark though. There’s no musical grandstanding, just track after track of authentic Americana with catchy chorus lyrics and infectious hooks. ‘Lust And Logic’ with its slide guitar work is a standout. The galloping beat of ‘Ain’t Dead Yet’ gets more people dancing, while ‘Hoodlum Wife’, which concludes the first half, touches on rock’n’roll.
During the break, we talk to Willi about the songwriting process itself. He writes all the lyrics, but it isn’t simply a case of setting them to a tune. “One of the others might be playing a riff on the guitar, or a little banjo break, and I’ll have a few words I’ve been playing with that I’ll slot in…” The net result is an impressive body of work that is the product of close collaboration, and an obvious love for the traditional music they’ve immersed themselves in. This is a homage to those genres rather than any kind of pastiche. In short, The Curst Sons are the real deal. Even their name, Willi explains – spelling and all – came from a traditional folksong: ‘The Farmer’s Curst Wife’.
The second half gets going with one of the newer numbers, ‘Mr Johnson’, its swampy sound recalling the feel of early Creedence Clearwater Revival. 2010’s ‘Ain’t Done It Myself’ comes next with its banter between young lovers: “Mary Bell, can I take off your basque?; Well, hell boy, I thought that you’d never ask… I’m warning you boy, I ain’t no nun; I ain’t done it myself, but I seen it done.” Then ‘Careless Gardener’, with its thumping sounds and driving narrative, and it’s time for another couple of excellent new songs: ‘Black Heart Town’ and ‘Sleeping With The Blues’.
‘Put Your Name Here’, another stomping number, this one about a young man heading into town to get his girlfriend’s name tattooed on his arm, comes next, and more punters take to the dance floor. The high-energy delivery continues with ‘Never Liked It’, ‘Mamma’s In The Kitchen’ – “cooking up some meth” and slacker anthem, ‘Here We Go Again’ – “Times Square, au pair, bad hair, skin care, I’m watching TV in my underwear…”
It’s technically the last song of their set, but the audience whoops and hollers for more, and we’re rewarded with two further tracks: ‘Blood Of Jesus’, upbeat despite being the tragic tale of a man losing his wife and children to TB, and ‘She Is Gone’, a bluesy stomp with nifty slide-guitar work about a jilted lover who, seemingly inadvertently, kills his ex, but manages to get the song down before the police drag him off to be hanged.
The Curst Sons have picked up many critical accolades over the years, from Americana UK to Time Out; from BBC’s Mark Lamarr to Fatea Record’s Ken Brown, who once noted: “If it’s true that the Devil has all the best tunes, then he must undoubtedly have nicked some of them from The Curst Sons.” It’s been a fantastic evening of music: great tunes, dark stories, superb playing and singing – and so much fun! Songs that we already knew went down a storm, but best of all, the new ones we heard tonight are of the same high quality. Roll on autumn, when they’ll be released to the wider public.
The Bootlegger, Friday 16th June 2023
