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(This show preview originally appeared in the Seattle Weekly.)

Bands usually swim straight down the shitter after losing their most talented members, but not Little Feat. Although the group fell apart when founder Lowell George cut and run in 1979 (he died that same year), the Feats reformed nine years later. At first, the band enlisted Pure Prairie League’s Craig Fuller and tried to write hit tunes and record studio albums, just as it did a decade earlier. But they soon realized there was no replacing a visionary like George. Wisely, Little Feat totally reinvented itself. Nowadays, they are one of the jam band scene’s best outfits, right up there with Widespread Panic. That’s because the Feats are grounded in classic 1970s rock, not the hippie-frat funk of bands like Phish, O.A.R. and moe.

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(This feature originally appeared in the SF Weekly.)

Donovan Quinn“Some people call it surreal,” says Donovan Quinn, talking about his new solo album. “But it’s more about examining all the weirdness that draws me to heartbreak. It’s about wondering why I’m a screwed-up, weird little dude.”

In reality, Quinn is about average height and medium build. He’s a real cutie, too, in a Timothy-Bottoms-circa-The-Last-Picture-Show kind of way: boyish, and dusty like the smooth, rural expanses of central Nebraska and Oklahoma (from which his family emigrated to the Walnut Creek area two generations back).

Yet the guy is right about being kind of weird. Quinn doesn’t converse — he meanders. He could be talking to you or himself; it’s often hard to tell. In the first few minutes of our interview, Quinn’s thoughts wander from the tasty goodness of Philz Coffee to an old trailer home in the East Bay to his job at the Sierra Club to the Skygreen Leopards (his longtime pastoral folk-pop band with fellow San Franciscan Glenn Donaldson) to repeatedly apologizing for being such a “rambling fool.”

Quinn sings a lot like he speaks. With a backing band laying down a wobbly, country-kissed jangle that feels as influenced by twee icons like Television Personalities and the Pastels as by West Coast folkies P.F. Sloan and John Phillips, he plays the shy guy, mumbling and whispering in a narcotic drone that rarely crawls out of a gooey unintelligibility. It’s really quite hypnotic, the aural equivalent of a sluggish Sunday afternoon poisoned by Saturday night’s transgressions.

So yeah, Quinn the person and artist is really pretty loose, so to speak. For him, the new disc, Donovan Quinn & the 13th Month, was nothing more than “writing songs, trying to convey some kind of emotion or idea, and then just getting your buddies to do whatever they do naturally on top of it.” But that’s also a bit misleading. Beneath that garbled croon and that slack approach to collaboration exists an extremely skilled lyricist who has fully internalized classic modes of metaphor, symbolism, and narrative.

What distinguishes Quinn, who is well read but never attended college, from other hyperliterate indie wordsmiths is how natural he sounds as (gulp) a poet and storyteller. Although he’s a complete drama queen (“He must be a total bitch to break up with,” wrote one reviewer) he never comes off as some English grad student flirting with T.S. Eliot.

An old-school romantic, Quinn intuitively understands that love comes smeared in both tragedy and comedy. On “Hollow Candles,” he croaks, “I wish I could freeze the night/Whenever I’m with you/For when light fills the window/I’ll have to find my shoes.” And on “They’re Going to Pick Us Apart” he warns, “Flesheaters will pick us apart/Gravediggers will rob our fingers of their rings/And all earthly things/But for now I watch a hazy sun.” Quinn even turns nasty with the lover’s dis. “October’s Bride” finds him asking, “What kind of love is this/The lamb’s throat and the Judas kiss/It’s a harem of bees and all you reap is disease.”

“Now that’s a fucked-up thing to write about a girl, but it’s also totally ridiculous,” laughs Quinn of the latter song. “I don’t think I’ve written one song ever that I don’t think is a little bit funny.”

Funny indeed. When asked if the new record is a true breakup album, he drops the best punch line of them all: “It’s actually about two different girls, and that might get me into trouble.”

See — he is a true romantic.

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(This post originally appeared on my other blog Strawberry Flats, which was dedicated to my love of roots music.)

In the early 1990s I worshiped power pop. If somebody had asked me back then to rank my top five faves, I would’ve gone with 1) Big Star 2) Cheap Trick 3) The Move 4) Teenage Fanclub and 5) The Smithereens. What I’ve always liked about these five is how each one is a rock band first and a pop group second.

This is why I dig the Coydogs. They sound like three old school bar rockers obsessed with the Byrds, Roy Loney-era Flamin’ Groovies, Big Star, early Tom Petty, Gene Clark and Crazy Horse. I stumbled across their MySpace site several months ago and couldn’t fucking believe what I was hearing. Most modern bands whom critics tag power pop (the New Pornographers is the first name that comes to mind) lack the bar rock angle. In other words, they lack the power. There is a good reason for this: more often than not they’re indie kids whose groups are recording projects, not the nightly entertainment at the Holiday Inn out by the airport. Times change, obviously. But I prefer the older model. I love how a band like Cheap Trick balanced sweaty, organic grooves and heavily sweetened hooks. Something happens when you mix those two extremes that just blows my mind.

The Coydogs aren’t an actual bar rock band, yet they discovered the balance I’m talking about. As you’ll soon read in my recent e-mail interview with singer and guitarist Darian Zahedi, their roots lie in New York’s punk rock scene. But when it came time to put together the Coydogs they wanted to create more of a power pop/country rock kind of thing. This explains why the band can really jam. Sure, they have plenty of hooks; and yes, their debut album possesses plenty of in-the-studio ornamentation. But deep down the Coydogs are a live unit with all that urban cool Johnny Thunders is famous for exuding.

Then again, they also possess some of his desperation. The third to last tune on the record is a hellish, little number called “It’s Raining.” Dude has been kicked out of his apartment. His girl is banging somebody else. All he can do is bitch and moan about her bullshit and how it sucks to be outside when it’s raining. Needless to say, the tune drills itself in to the concrete. But hey, it’s super catchy, too.

Strawberry Flats: I’ve been spinning your debut album about three times a week, yet I know very little about you guys. Please give me a little background. How did you come together? How old are you guys? Were you born and raised in New York City?
The Coydogs: We came together out of a close-knit scene that basically centered around CBGB, Mars Bar, and other [Lower East Side] clubs and bars. It was a new heyday for punk and rock in New York, and we had bands that were doing well. But eventually our old bands imploded, and as you know CBs closed down yada yada, and we wanted to do something totally different. We are now in our late ’20s, I suppose. None of us were born or raised in NYC.

You guys live in New York, but unlike a lot of bands there you seem to keep a fairly low profile. Is this intentional?
Some of us don’t necessarily live anywhere in particular. We are not always in the same place at the same time. I think the low profile is just a symptom of our respective lives.

Do the Coydogs play out a lot or do you spend more time practicing?
Hmm. Difficult to say, really.

Why did you offer your debut as a digital-only release? Personally, I would like to see a deluxe gatefold LP!
Gatefolds are nice, if you can find a label willing to shell out for something that many now view as an anachronism. I prefer vinyl, of course, but it’s a luxury now. I think people — not record collectors, audiophiles and purists — are more likely to download a song or two for a playlist. Also, because we are not touring, we don’t need things to sell on the road. It just happens to work out.

How do you guys write songs? Do you have a primary songwriter?
Two of us write songs, almost in completion, then bring them in. We have similar voices, but if you listen close, you can here the distinction.

Also, it sounds as if you and Nick split vocal duties. Who has the gravelly voice and who occupies that higher register?
Ha! I answered before reading on. I suppose mine is a bit harsher and strained sounding. We trade-off on singing high harmonies. Nick [Storella] has more of a Gene Clark thing going but has grit in his voice, too, when he yells. For Darian check out “Daggers” for Nick “In So Deep.”

The first thing that grabbed me about your music was its physicality. Unlike most modern indie bands, who seem to champion production over the jam, you guys groove like an old bar rock band. It’s almost as if you tapped a dead tradition. How is that even possible in 2008?
Ignoring everything but what we really like and feel. Playing from the heart — it’s simple but true and makes the band what it is.

I noticed the Sadies are your MySpace friends. Have you ever played together? You share a love for classic chops that most modern indie bands lack.
Never played together but we really like them a lot. It’s inspiring to hear other bands playing more a traditional style of music in a modern context. They happen to do it better than any other band around right now. I think people have been conditioned to think that if a current band doesn’t show a hefty degree of post-punk or new wave influence, they are not really modern. Malarchy.

I never ask for lists, but what the fuck. What are your five favorite country-rock albums?
Hmm. Country rock? Favorite? Five? Here’s a few that might fit the bill: 1) Bob Dylan’s Nashville Skyline 2) The Band 3) The Byrds’ Sweetheart of the Rodeo 4) The Fantastic Expedition of Dillard & Clark and 5) Willie & The Family Live.

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