Coulda been Kings
Radio Kings pull the plug but set up the acoustic
by John O'Neill
Ah yes, the Radio Kings. They're a soon-to-be late, this-close (thumb
and forefinger spread roughly a half-inch apart) -to great blues group, who if
you had to ascribe a few choice words on their impending headstone to sum up
their all-too-brief career, should probably read -- IT FIGURES. Through eight
years, three critically acclaimed albums, a handful of bass players and
drummers, and a tortuous touring schedule that saw the band crisscrossing the
globe to play 200 to 250 gigs a year, the Radio Kings were beginning to grow
out of the shoes they inadvertently slipped into all those years ago as a
Fabulous Thunderbirds ripoff. Unfairly tagged by unimaginative music reviewers,
the Kings were finally on the verge of shaking that rap that dogged them for
the majority of their nights spent grinding it out, balls to the wall, in some
pissed-soaked gin mill east of nowhere, and west of nothing. With the release
of Money Road (out in March 1998 on Bullseye Blues & Jazz), their
finest recorded moment, the boys could no longer be confused as a T-Birds
clone.
"I've always felt that they were a huge influence; Jimmy Vaughn is one of our
favorite guitar players," says Mike Dinallo from his home in Salem. He's
natured and gracious during the chat, and you imagine Dinallo's eyes rolling
skyward (hopefully for the last time) at the onset of this over-discussed
topic. "But, we got away from that sound early on. When we got compared to the
Blasters, I was more comfortable."
Which, would be a pretty fair place to start as an obvious influence behind
Money Road (the name is a result of the band's search for Robert
Johnson's final resting spot), as the Kings pushed across the sprawl of the
American landscape. Where they were once a hardcore Chicago/Texas blues outfit,
Money Road offered a powerful mix of jump blues, Stax/Volt-style soul,
country blues, rockabilly, early R&B, and a bit of country and gospel
flavor thrown in. It's got such a roots-rock feel that it's only natural that
ex-Blaster, and current singer/songwriter demigod Dave Alvin wrote the liner
notes. And while having Alvin on your team would seem to be a good thing, you
can just as easily pinpoint the Radio Kings' imminent collapse to having
Dave Alvin on their team. You just don't hang out with a legend without having
him rub off on you somehow. Dinallo, a guy who once declared that blues was
it, now talks about being blown away by Steve Earle's last three albums;
he worships Hank Williams and wants to figure out how to work more Bill Monroe
into his original songs.
"Dave has been a big influence in where my head's at musically," Dinallo says.
"We talk on the phone every couple of months. He's really unparalleled as a
songwriter. And I wouldn't pretend to be in his category. But I'm interested in
seeing how an acoustic guitar fits in an electric band. I've got a whole bunch
of things I want to do. I want to experience all those things besides the
blues."
And so, one of the blues' more promising young bands graduated to one of the
country's more promising young roots acts, and then skated right over the edge
of disaster to become one of the country's more disappointing casualties. While
they have one more trip across the Midwest that ends in New Orleans (their
spiritual home) and several commitments in Europe to meet, the Radio Kings will
wrap it up for all intents at the end of March. They appear at their last local
show this Saturday night at Slattery's Front Room. And though it should be
somewhat bittersweet, Dinallo has few regrets of the King's lousy timing.
"I thought we'd take the Radio Kings further and that we'd last longer, but
relationships need to change and evolve," he says adding that he's already set
to head into the studio with a new experiment (Singer Brian Templeton is headed
toward a more swing-influenced project). "But it was great. We got to meet a
lot of people, and I loved being out on the road. I'm really proud of the last
record, it was a great way to go out. I wouldn't have done anything
differently. . . . Well, a few things differently!"
So, let the record reflect that, after all is said and done, the Little Band
from Boston That Could finally did, and it was in such a grand way that the
rest of us are left to shake our heads and wonder what might have been.
30 Second Men
One of the more interesting things being universally ignored in the
Boston press is its current punk movement. Sure the Dropkick Murphys have
graduated to the second rung on the corporate ladder, but they made it through
the underground fanzine/word-of-mouth route (and a little help from the
Bosstones didn't hurt). Harking back to the old-school sound of the early-'80s
movement (meaning lots of hooks, some harmony, and smart lyrics), Melrose-based
30 Seconds Over Tokyo are one of the better examples of good punk rock. Their
four-song EP The Ambition of One . . . the Hatred of All is a
nuts-on slab of wax that will make you long for the days of pre-Nirvana punk,
when rabble-rousing was key and the music was alternately powerful and
hilarious or unlistenable. And like all good punks, the Tokyo bombers know
their roots, turning in a killer rendition of Gene (the great-granddaddy of
punk) Vincent's "Race with the Devil." Make sure to stop by the Espresso Bar
Friday to catch these hoods, chances are they won't disappoint.