Welcome to a new series in which we slow down the madness of festivals and spotlight one band, one lyric, one song.
Regret and love being the forever currency of any songwriter to walk the Earth, Orlando-based “southern rock muscle” Thomas Wynn and the Believers tread some familiar scorched paths, slathering crunchy backdoor riff rock over Black Crowes six-piece soul. Especially in the scorching late backyard Austin sun this journalist happen to catch them at way out at one of the smattering of gentrified dives dotting the East side. Rock has been here before.
But the genuine factor unfolded sweet and gritty from the get-go, Wynn’s sister chiming in on vocal harmonies, harmonica fills cutting the fat, feedback, and 12 sets of heels clobbering out an all at once glistening and dusty sound of regret only they could create. Even if through a tired old bar tale we all know: “I regret the things we use to say when were drunk/that drove us away.”
Wynn would tell me later that he was referencing some emotions tied to his ex-wife, backing it with the reflection, “I don’t necessarily believe anyone understands what hatred really is,” calling upon a statistic “that says for every bad thing that’s said, ten good things have to be said to counteract that one bad thing.” Through the filth-twang catharsis of the song or not, that’s not tired at all.
