Review: The Marcus King Band–“The Best New Rock Music I’ve Heard in a Long Time.”

By Tom O’Connor

If you’re like me, I get a little suspicious of people who are a little too positive and upbeat all the time. I feel the same way about reviewers who seem too eager to tell you that everything they review is totally awesome. How is that statistically possible? I was thinking about this because my most recent couple of reviews have been overwhelmingly positive and I haven’t had much of anything bad to say. Does that make me suspect?

The truth is that the overlords at Rock & Blues Muse who assign the albums-to-review to me, have been on a roll lately, and they’ve really been finding great stuff. Believe me, reviewers don’t necessarily enjoy some of the things they review, but if they’re honest and know what they’re doing, they can still tell you what’s good and what isn’t with some integrity.

So, here is my problem: I feel like I’ve painted myself into a corner with those last couple of relentlessly positive and sunshine-filled reviews because this self-titled, new Marcus King Band album is, without a doubt, the best new (to me) rock music I’ve heard in a long long time. I’ll of course do my usual breakdown of it, and I do like people to read everything I write, but if you’re in a big hurry today I’ll save you some time: This collection is seriously great, as in–years from now you’ll be reminding your friends that you told them about the Marcus King Band first- level great.

It is a stunning collection and, for a lot of people, their first introduction to the band and its namesake, the remarkably talented Marcus King. Barely into his 20s, King’s voice carries more gravitas than a lot of country and southern rock singers with ten or fifteen years of road life on him. His guitar playing is equally preternatural, switching gears effortlessly from understated to ferocious to funky and back again, but trust me, this collection feels a whole lot more substantial than just the latest surprisingly-young guitar hotshot showing off.

Where to start? The band’s twitter profile very accurately describes them this way: “Supplying you with a heavy dose of soul influenced psychedelic southern rock.”

That pretty much nails it. Well, maybe not the “psychedelic” part completely, but I have to remember that I set a pretty high bar when it comes to psychedelia. Southern rock for sure, leaning much more into loose-elbowed Allman Brothers territory than Lynyrd Skynyrd’s swamp rock. But none of those good ol’ boys ever thought to consistently layer in a serious horn section that would fit in at a Stax/Volt revue. When I tell you they’re also not shy about throwing in some weepy pedal steel guitar too, you might think they’re a bit all over the map, but they’re not. This band is seriously exploring their own territory, a place that feels like it hasn’t been mapped before.

The album opens with a beat, a sting of horns and a groove that makes you think you’re about to hear a new Archie Bell & The Drells tune. Having clearly established a soul vibe, the next song, “Devil’s Land” explores full-on southern rock meets jam band territory in theme and style.

“Rita Is Gone” uses the horn section to full effect, establishing a soul-clapping R&B jam. On the next track, Derek Trucks takes a guest turn in the jazzy, jam band-y and slide heavy “Self- Hatred,” which is then followed by one of the stand-out tracks in the whole collection.

“Jealous Man” is pretty much pure blue-eyed soul. Another merciless riff from the horn section combines with the swelling tones of the organ and King’s guitar in the lament of a man admitting he is at the mercy of love. The noodling jam band side of the group comes out on “The Man You Didn’t know” only 4:40 on the album, it is easy to imagine this one stretching out to a comfortable 10 or 20 minutes at a groovy outdoor summer festival. The same goes for the tune that comes next. “Plant your corn early” is, and I don’t say this sort of thing lightly, a Stevie Wonder-level funk workout that could also easily extend long enough to test the endurance of any sunbaked (or otherwise baked) audience in the lawn section.

“Guitar in my hands” brings us back to the kind of straight-up country that any trucker would be proud to blast from his rig, opening with a lonesome pedal steel-sounding wail that soon kicks up to toe-tapper speed. The next track, the aptly named instrumental, “Thespian Espionage,” takes us on a completely unexpected detour down Highway 007, but with Matt Helm at the wheel, complete with the first flute (yes, flute) solo I’ve heard on a rock song since Ian Anderson of Jethro Tull hung up his tights.

Next up, “Virginia,” brings us stomping back to the honky-tonk on $3 Pitcher night, until the horn section comes roaring in to remind us that with this band, there is always an extra layer to every track, an extra idea behind every song. This six and a half minute tune is another one that feels like it could easily stretch out to an Allman Brothers-esque jam/slugfest in the right venue.