Britt Strickland walks out onstage with the rest of The Autumn Saints. “We’re gonna gather around your campfire for a little while,” he says.
And that laid-back atmosphere permeates the 45 minutes they spend on stage. Based in Oxford, this Anglo-US band has its roots in this story: “When I was growing up in North Carolina, I had Johnny Cash playing in one room, and my brother was playing The Clash in the other, so I decided to create a band that sounded like those two things. No one told me I shouldn’t.” Indeed, I’d argue that he absolutely should.
There are some wonderful moments in their set. Nick Bennett is a bit of a utility man, and his keyboards on “Night Static” or the wonderful guitar line on “The Lieutenant” from the returning David Gallagher stand out.
“Home For Winter” features some superb harmonica, and they are equally adept at interpreting other people’s songs. Their rendition of “Red Eyes” by War On Drugs is truly remarkable.
There’s a new song in the shape of “Night Train,” and there’s a real sense of longing in the lap steel of Bennett, and the recent single, “I Am The Gadfly” (which featured Justin Sullivan of New Model Army).
As they conclude with an expansive, almost cinematic “Dustbowl Year,” you can once again reflect on the class, originality, warmth, and skill of this wonderful band.
The Long Ryders are playing “September, November,” the title track of their 2023 record, and main man Sid Griffin punches the air along with the beat.
In that moment, he underscores the joy of the show.
This gig, Griffin says more than once, is the biggest they’ve ever played in Birmingham – a significant achievement considering they’ve been coming here for more than 40 years.
They’ve had periods of inactivity, but that doesn’t matter given the timeless nature of songs like “Gonna Make It Real.”
Another new song, “Elmer Gantry Is Alive And Well,” while Stephen McCarthy, the band’s other guitar player, takes the lead on “To The Manor Born.”
Often credited as forerunners – and even inventors – of Americana, in truth, the set playfully covers a wide range of styles, from the Chuck Berry-style boogie of “State Of My Union” to the jangly indie rocker “Ivory Tower,” and more from covers to the magnificent “Mr. Spaceman.”
“I Had A Dream” is another McCarthy number (he’s sort of Mike Cooley to Griffin’s Patterson Hood, if you will – and you know the Drive-By Truckers), and things get raucous on “Final Wild Son,” so much so that Griffin headbangs.
“Lights Of Downtown” is arguably the best of the lot, and it leads them to the encore, which starts with a raw take on The Band’s “The Shape I’m In,” dedicated to Robbie Robertson, and the best-known song, “Looking For Lewis And Clark,” all groove and fun – and there’s a lovely harmonica lick from Griffin.
As the song, and thus the show, ends, McCarthy is high above the rest, jumping down as if possessed by the power of the music.
And that, along with a sense of fun that sees them laugh and joke with each other, is essentially what this gig is all about. The Long Ryders are one of those bands that might be slightly more under the radar than they deserve but are nonetheless brilliant.
