Kings County Caravan
As the last of the old street-tough corners of New York City proper/ Manhattan are smoothed out (adios, CBGB’s!), the roughshod soul of New York’s music and art scene has been not-so-gradually migrating across the East River.
There, in Kings County, in the shadow of the Manhattan skyline, the lower lying borough of Brooklyn (population 2.5million souls) looms in the imagination like some old-world thief: ready to steal your heart, break it and then put it back together again. As Manhattan lays claim to class, Brooklyn lays claim to cunning. Where Manhattan brags glitter, Brooklyn brings grit. When Manhattan says Broadway, Brooklyn sez, ‘our way or the highway.’
Which brings us to the Kings County Caravan, a music tour where OUR WAY meets the HIGHWAY. The Caravan showcases four of Brooklyn’s finest up ‘n coming singer-songwriter-rock-‘n-roll troubadours as we bring the Brooklyn music scene to a stage in (or at least within driving distance of) your backyard. If you don’t have a backyard, that’s fine. We don’t either.
The current volume features the music of Kara Suzanne, Kenny Cambre, Steve Lewis and The Reverend John DeLore. The Kings County Caravan delivers a night of music that—like Brooklyn—is as diverse as it is unapologetic. It’s a hoodoo, Americana grab-bag/potluck of rock, folk, alt-country, boogie-woogie, soul & blues, all filtered through the borough of Brooklyn.
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- Jul 21, 11Singer songwriter Kara Suzanne and her band The Gojo Hearts, compose country rock inspired by the likes of The Band, Emmylou Harris, Wilco, Neil Young, Leon Russell, and Dolly Parton. Kara blends bluesy Americana, traditional country rock, and folk in her original arrangements. Her voice and songwriting is often compared to Aimee Mann, Patty Griffin, and Neko Case. Her debut album "Aumsville" recently won Best Album of the Year Vox Populi from the Independent Music Awards. She can be seen performing regularly at venues in NYC and Brooklyn venues such as Irving Plaza, The Living Room, Southpaw, and Luna Lounge as well as recent appearances at The Sundance Film Festival, The Nantucket Film Festival and The Hampton's Film Festival.The integrity of New Orleans-born Kenny Cambre's sound is as thick as the delta mud in which he stands up to his gut while on stage. With one foot rooted in "the tradition" and the other pointed forward, Cambre's rusty-honey voice and poetic, lyrical narrative paint a portrait of undeniable suffering, brushed with broad strokes of humor and optimism. His melodies feel familiar upon first listen, like something you'd heard in a dream. His debut album (which recently won Discmakers 2008 Independent Music World Series), "The Guy You Cheer For," is the kind of record that stays in your CD tray for days on end; you catch yourself singing his songs while grocery shopping. Many before him have stepped on stage with only an acoustic guitar, sure, but when all is said and done, history, no doubt, will recognize him as a pure and gifted soul who had inherited all his influences' genius and carried the form into the present. He is often seen playing around NYC & Kings County at venues such as The Living Room, The Sidewalk Café and Luna Lounge.While the Reverend John DeLore readily admits to being self-ordained, he insists that his “congregation”—which consists of only himself, and which accepts no new members—be taken seriously. And rightfully so. Backed by solid rock arrangements, DeLore’s songs range from a whisper to a roar, and every lyric seems carefully hewn from literary stone. “Henry Miller, Dostoevski, Hemingway, Bukowski. Those are my gospels,” he says. “They all understand that there’s only a very thin line between throwing your hands up in spiritual jubilation and throwing them up when laughing in the face of a strange, uncaring world.” In his songs, one finds plenty of characters who walk this thin line, sometimes in wellworn workboots (the narrator in “Careless Lips”), and sometimes in gaudy highheels (the mistress in “The Art of War”). With his talent for marrying the well-crafted lyric to the well-crafted song, the Reverend John DeLore explores new boundaries of the LitRock genre. You should take him seriously. But “not too seriously,” he insists. “The best sermons always have a punchline.” Amen, Reverend. Amen.Steve Lewis After hitching up and down the lost highway, Alabama Steve finally caught a ride to New York City. He met lots of mighty fine folk there, many players with whom he struck up friendships, and then they set off on travels anew. Steve takes the folk and country blues styles and does something new with them – it’s music from just left of the middle, jump tunes from the inter-war period, although which wars we can’t rightly say. If there is another world, an alternate reality, then Steve is probably from that one. How he got here no one knows, and where he’s going is where the wind blows.
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Albums
- 8 tracks (00:00)
BuyThis album showcases four of Brooklyn's finest up and coming singer-songwriter-rock-n-roll troubadours backed by one incredible band, the Gojos. Kings County Caravan brings their beloved borough's music scene to a stage in your backyard. They never fail to deliver a night of music that like Brooklyn, is as diverse as it is unapologetic.
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Posts
- Jun 04, 08Here it comes to take hold of me
I could scream or hurt somebody
Serve my time & get my money
Bring it home to my baby
Before it's too late
Too late...I gotta quit
I hide in the Ladies Room
He's yelled at me and it's not even noon
I wonder how I put up with that
Cause momma need a new pill box hat
Before it's too late
Too late...I gotta quit
Never was a man I hated more
Never was a boss I hated more
I hate his right hand man I hate his left, ohh
The pros still out weight the cons, two to one
so i'll serve my time and... get my money
Never was a man I hated more
But I'll serve my time & get my money
Before it's too late, too late, too late
Too late ohh...I gotta quit - Jun 04, 08
- Jun 04, 08I'm here to tell you I saw heaven in a street light,
Sparked a memory I had not before found.
Eight years old and I was money on a school night,
Chiefs at Denver with the snow comin' down
Space invaders, Conrad Meyers,
and that neighbor kid who just moved to town.
I say mam sir, ask-direction
And I'm wakin' meek and humble,
It's tough in this town.
Day was cold my nose was running didn't feel right,
Sparked a memory and this road I'm goin' down
I's 16 looking funny never feelin' right,
It's on man it's tough,
Another day another round.
Calculators, friends and liars
And that neighbor kid he cranks it up loud.
I say mam sir ask direction
And I'm wakiin' meek and humble,
It's tough in this town.
Present-day like any other guess it's alright,
Engine revvin' on a hard way to town.
Hit the head fill the belly in the short sight,
Missed the bus on all those deals goin' down.
Corporate raiders, stock bond buyers
And that neighbor kid he's moving uptown.
I say mam sir ask direction
And I'm wakin' meek and humble,
It's tough in this town. - Jun 04, 08Every morning I turn the bedsheets down
Swing my legs over the edge till my feet meet the ground.
I don’t make a sound.
I just sit there so confused
Because I don’t know just who I am.
Oh, Jerusalem, leave me alone.
Every afternoon we lay side by side in your bed
And I beg you once again let me be your good friend
I won’t make a sound.
I’ll just sit there so confused
Because I don’t know just who I am.
Oh, Jerusalem, leave me alone.
Every evening I look for the moon and there’s two of them.
One for me and one for Jerusalem.
Every evening I look for the moon and there’s two of them.
One for me and one for Jerusalem.
There’s not one moon there are two of them
One for me and one for Jerusalem... - Jun 04, 08
- Jun 04, 08Oh Granny Mary
High all the time
Oh Granny Mary
Taking what is mine
Drainin Poor daddy dry
Like any good parasite
Mother left him on his knees
After 30 years or more
Mary’s lost her soul to the methamphetamines
Now she’s found a man to live out her lazy schemes
Oh Granny Mary
Old before her time
Oh Granny Mary
Haunting me and mine
It’s like Pa’s gone back to his own kind
His Ma cooked Meth in their double-wide
They smoked cigarettes with the windows closed
In fake wood paneling
No good women why you haunting me
Infiltrating my family tree
No good women nothing better to do
You better start running when I, when I catch up to you
Oh Granny Mary
It’s just a matter of time
Oh Granny Mary
Before you die
How could he put, Her before his own children
Now Mary’s just making sure, there’s nothing left for them
When he’s tapped she’ll be, off looking for another sucker man
Leave the kids to care for pa, and pay her debts for him - Jun 04, 08I learned to stand up for a crowd this size.
The first time was hell, there was pinball and curly fries.
If you're talkin' don't mind me, you're there just for the beer.
Just tap feet in rhythm and the last call you lend an ear.
I's sold, bought and seasoned.
My baby ran around.
I croon, craw, raise the roof high, sold, bought and seasoned.
Big girl raisin' hell while I'm singin a sad one.
The young'ins don't care.
They like them rippin' and jammin'.
With a Pal Mal and a shot for me and hey I think I know that guy.
Now i'm mixin' up all the words.
Take a step back man and close your eyes.
I's sold, bought and seasoned.
My baby ran around.
I croon, craw, raise the roof high, sold, bought and seasoned.
Six songs and I rocked the place.
This serenading is such a chore.
I guess it's good gettin out, but my head it hurts and my shoulder's sore.
The light it fades to someone else.
I tell my friend you give it a try.
And i'm thinkin' as I'm walkin home, bread and milk I forgot to buy.
I's sold, bought and seasoned.
My baby ran around.
I croon, craw, raise the roof high, sold, bought and seasoned. - Jun 04, 08The Saints they gather in the shadows.
And the Widows they mill around the field.
While one Saint kneels down to sharpen up his sword,
One Widow kneels and hammers at a shield.
And they know throughout all their loving
That they’ll never get out of this world alive.
If the flood waters rise they would calmly close their eyes
And sleep at the bottom of the sea.
And you can tell your daddy I still love you
And there’s nothing in the world would ever change my mind
But if it’s honor that he wants, well then it’s honor he shall have
And I will meet him at the crossroads at dawn.
As we walk between the fields and the shadows
Arm-in-arm and making up a song,
We hear a baby cry in a window far away
And you say he’s only trying to sing along.
Oh, sweet Anne of San Francisco
Let me tell you all about the scene of the crime.
I was just a young man in a foreign room
And it was either his blood or mine.
And you can tell your daddy I still love you
And there’s nothing in the world would ever change my mind
But if it’s honor that he wants, well then it’s honor he shall have
And I will meet him at the crossroads at dawn.
And he will come from the west all dressed in black
With a pistol bleeding in the palm of his hand
And I will rise from the east like a newborn son
And I’ll be leading a ragtime band.
And we will sing a new song for the crossroads
We will play it to the fields and the shadows everywhere
And when the time comes along I will lay down my song
And I will fire all my pistols in the air.
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Past
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Posts
- May 14, 08We will contact with you the many color & size options ASAP. All shirts will feature the KCC logo and will be printed on high quality American Apparel t-shirts by our friends at ThePeopleWhoFeedUs.com. To purchase,
- May 14, 08
