Click here to order latest release 'Bitch Be the World'.Click here to sample 'Bitch Be the World'. There
aren't many 90-degree days in Indiana, so the question is fair:
What the heck is creating all that heat in the Hoosier state?
The
six guys in Philpot-keyboard player A.J. Boone, drummer Arthur Ready,
bassist Tyler Evans, lead guitarist Caleb Smith, rhythm guitarist Josh
Kennedy, and lead singer Kentz Ward-would probably say that they
were running the Fahrenheit up the flagpole, so for amateur scientists
looking for new ways to fry an egg, well, here's your chance to whip up
an omelet on the face of a couple of big honking amps and experience
firsthand the next big musical thing, a thing which gets lots of
nourishment and tender loving care inside the confines of a flower
shop, in this case the one in which Ward works.
Which makes
perfect sense when you coddle this analogy: Flowers, when nurtured with
caring hands and just the right amount of plant food and light, grow
into healthy specimens whose very presence injects a sense of life in
everything they come in contact with. Ditto Philpot, whose name comes
from an orange shirt Ward's grandmother picked up at a Democratic
convention in Hammond, Indiana; the word "philpot" was emblazoned on
the shirt in big, bold, blue letters.
The word "philpot" has no
meaning, per se, but a quick Google search will net a plurality of hits
leading to sites about various people with the last name Philpot, and
the Lyme Regis Philpot Museum in Lyme, England, which might be worth a
trip someday, but not when there's so much work to do in the here and
now, spreading the word about Philpot the band, formed in the rocking
year of 2000.
In a flower shop disguised as a musical
laboratory, situated in the blink-and-you'll-miss-it Indianapolis
suburb of Dugger (around 1,000 residents strong), Ward toils by
day among the blossoms and, by night, is joined by his five compatriots
who grow their, by turns, rocking, bluesy, and emotive music from
germinating ideas to full-fledged songs which they then offer proudly
to the masses. In other words, they rehearse in the flower shop, a
really rock 'n' roll thing to do.
With buzz for Philpot being
generated in the primordial New York City club scene, on the
much-vaunted garageband.com (where the band is highly rated), and at
its electrifying shows, it is only a matter of time before the band
breaks big, which, really, is the point of all of this, and is their
destiny.
Philpot's songs, all passionately sung and played, from
the jaunty rocker "Drips" and the reggae-fied undercurrent of the
bluesy "Every Monday," which has a lyrical keyboard at its core; to the
noisy, feedback-bolstered Nirvana-meets-Oasis workout of "Shuffle" and
the anthemic ballad-and-thrasher-in-equal-measures honesty of "So
Blue," hit squarely in the sweet spot, meaning they meet their targets
head on with passion and moxie to spare.
Sounding like a cross
between Liam Gallagher and Kurt Cobain, Ward invests his soul and makes
every note of these songs count. Smith's lead guitar works in tandem
with Kennedy's rhythm patterns to give the songs shape and a space in
which to breathe. Boone's keyboards instill a sense of ambiance, and
Ready and Evans provide the propulsive beat. This one-of-a-kind
combination, now playing in venues around the world including England,
Australia and New Zealand, as well as here in the States, is now onto
its second album, recorded at Hempstead, New York's Music Palace.
The
safety of the world firmly in mind, Philpot has hooked up with the
Social Groove Collective, a coming-together of community-minded music
folks and business types (both for- and not-for-profit), to be a part
of their Tsunami relief efforts, and the Social Groove tour. Philpot
has opened for none other than Days of the New after meeting that band
at a church benefit, a rite of passage which rightly sits right with
Ward and his mates.
These are indeed the days of the new, the
days of the new sounds, and from that little flower shop in Dugger,
Indiana comes one such group of sounds, written and played by six
musicianly types, brought together through a combination of
circumstances (including the raiding of a couple of rival bands), and
they are going to conquer the world, or at least their part of it, and
that, friends, is the thing, the one and only thing that
matters.
~Alan Haber
WEBR, Fairfax, Virginia