L.A. Beat

Time: 9:30 p.m.

Cover: $10

  www.myspace.com/spoonrivertheband  or  www.spoonriverband.com

Following the dissolution of the infamous Royal Mountain Band into so many beautiful yellow flowers, Jeff Louch and Tavis Triance have joined up with the indomitable Jason Kent and the jug-band virtuosity of the Cowan brothers rhythm factory to continue crafting the finest in woodsy soul. An ongoing visit to Vancouver has recently come to bring Horkenheimer, Wood and Young into the fold
Three and four part harmonies, thick slabs of Hammond organ, and an insistent licking at the guitar, all belted together by the far off tinkle of piano and wail of harmonica.
Nods to The Band, doom trilogy era Neil Young and all that is dirt road and tall pines. Come watch it all explode like fisticuffs under a drunken orange moon.

Rodney DeCroo www.myspace.com/wartornman is a Vacouver based folk singer/songwriter.

"A transcendent work of art."
— No Depression, USA

"Vancouver-based troubadour DeCroo made converts with his last album, the live disc War Torn Man. His following deserves to increase radically with this new tour-de-force, one already notching rave reviews. DeCroo is an original and Mockingbird Bible represents uneasy listening at it's best."
— Exclaim Magazine

"Mockingbird Bible is a soulful, quiet and absolutely brilliant collection of songs from one of Canada's premier musical talents. Decroo has yet again proven himself to be one of the country's best songwriters."
— 24 Hours

"Across 13 tracks, DeCroo weaves his thematically impressive tales of loneliness and despair sounding as if he's been doing this sort of thing since birth."
— Americana UK

"These are serious songs sung by a serious songwriter and played by a band completely in sync. Put DeCroo and his band in front of a UK audience and there’s a career to be made. Mockingbird Bible is a perfect blend of dark folk, country yearning and indie cool. Uncut should be lapping it up."
-Rob Forbes, Leicester Bangs, UK

"The hushed volume of Rodney DeCroo’s new CD isn’t the sound of shyness; it’s the sound of grief."
— See Magazine