Straight outta Amarillo: Bo Salling & the Brakes Are All Gone Band
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A D V E R T I S E M E N T
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A D V E R T I S E M E N T
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Bo Salling & the Brakes
By Billy Walters
These days, seems like any recent Texas Tech drop-out with a Takamine and a trust fund can whip up a mediocre-at-best album of hackneyed, country-flavored road songs. Take heed, fellas: Willie worship doesn’t mean you’re good. And forget about being the next Pat Green — he’s happened already, and you ain’t him.
A lot of these yahoos are shockingly self-important and about as interesting as a cup of lukewarm water, but rollin’ into the Fort this week from the wild flats of Amarillo is a different story. Bo Salling & the Brakes Are All Gone Band delivers the kind of country you only heard stories ‘bout from your papa: wasted.
Acronym lovers and roadhouse-grit fans alike get a kick out of BSATBAAGB, chiefly because the band rocks with one foot to the pedal and the other up the ass of twangy poseurs. “You live hard and fast?” you can hear Bo and company ask. “Whatever — you spend your time singing about Everclear while we’re drinking it.”
With pilsner-soaked crunch on the get-fiddles, a sweet pedal steel a-cryin’ in the background, and a lead vocalist whose gruff disposition resembles a pissed-off Wayne “The Train” Hancock, Bo Salling & the Brakes Are All Gone Band is the real deal. Wearers of a) trucker brims, b) Yankees ballcaps, and c) thousand-dollar cowboy hats are advised to steer clear.
— Billy Walters
Fri at the Wreck Room, 7208 W 7th St, FW. 817-348-8303.
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