Boggs

On paper, the Boggs were a breath of fresh air when they emerged from New York while Strokes-mania was at its peak. Aggressive bluegrass with a singer who belts out slurred vocals like a wannabe slack-jawed yokel was a fascinating idea, but the consistency of their debut, We Are The Boggs We Are, wore a little thin after repeated listens. With their sophomore album, Stitches, the band has toned down the appreciation for O Brother, Where Art Thou? and concentrated on stripped-down, hostile folk rock. The ridiculously large cast of characters the Boggs have accumulated deliver innumerable contributions with a wide range of instruments (sax, banjo and flugelhorn). The result is something much heavier, thanks to the extraordinary drumming of Brad Conroy, who pounds away like he’s sucked down a case of Jolt cola. Imagine a less lovelorn, pissed off Bright Eyes with a jug of moonshine under their arms and you get an idea of what the Boggs are mumbling about.