As a local Free Paper FarWest has built a solid reputation covering the Alt Country and Americana Scene in Greater Los Angeles. Here’s their review by Scott Grusin of a show we played at the LA Farmer’s Market.

Grant Langston and The Supermodels: Stand Up Man
Live at the Ranch Party at E.B.’s Beer and Wine Bar, Farmers Market
By Scott Grusin

This Stand Up Man stands out - guess ya can’t sing like this sittin’ down. Grant’s full, generous voice and direct delivery lend a kindly moral authority to his songs’ celebrations of turpitude and degeneracy; the bawdy material presented with such guileless down-to-earth humor and taste as to pass muster with the Market’s family dinner audience. Rambunctious, wild, and dirty enough while convincing everyone it’s just good clean fun; mighty sly but with nary a wink.

These guys pay attention to their sound…Grant slings a fat sweet Gretsch (hooray for single-cutaways) that provides the link-size bed of jangle I’d expect from a couple acoustic guitars. Guitar geeks: check out the “Stand Up Man CD cover for a full-frontal of this gorgeous axe.

Lead Player Larry Marciano’s guitar pick spends a lot of time clenched between his teeth, freeing his nekkid fingers for pullin’, snappin’, and poppin’ the bejeezus outta them poor beleaguered string and yankin’ every last microgram o oscillation outta his hot overdriven Tele; puttin’ a contemporary crunch on that classic biting, punchy, duck-pluckin’ attack that instantly transports me into the back of a pickup truck on a ‘merican dirt road, nursin’ a cold open container, lovin’ life. Then there’s the searing southern-friend bottleneck-work and occasional steel-pedal simulation; straddling blues and country like a Texan on an Appaloosa, each foot firmly planted in its stirrup. Chops for days.

Kudos to Josh Fleeger for a most solid, propulsive foundation and for the deepest, richest, sweetest, warmest bass tone ever i heared outta an electric. Dammit, i was too caught up with PA pack-up to look and inquire regarding his amp and beautiful hollow-body Gibson, steal his secret-formula amp settings, etc. Flatwounds forever?

Drummer Tony Horkins keeps the train-beats chugging, swings the honky-tonks hard and lanky limbed, rocks the straight-ahead chargers, and lends subtly insistent motion to the quieter numbers. A tight and tasty rhythm section, band, performance…

While the CD’s occasional acoustic instruments and production polish soften it slightly compared to the harder edge of their live show, the album still rocks; somehwere between alt and classic, with enough catchy hooks to keep my itchy trigger finger from flippin’ a (dare I say it) radio dial except to crank it up.

You can come down either way you want: set ‘n’ catch your breath or keep you feet fleet (and enlist yer hips) through “Call Your Bluff (Swamp Version)”. This bonus-track’s shuffle groove keeps it from sounding like a redundant ‘remix’. Maybe they couldn’t decide on a favorite version; I can’t either - glad to have them both.
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