One day they’ll erect a rock n’ roll pantheon dedicated to attitude and sound instead of social stature and sales. It’ll be a natural history museum of sorts; neanderthals in motorcycle boots; a hall of beards; denim through the ages (its brilliance lies in its resiliency); stuffed herds of tattooed buffalo. And they, whoever they are, would be best served to hire Tony Reed as curator. Reed, best known as a musician and producer, is also a rock n’ roll preservationist. It’s not an accredited title, but it is a state of mind, a way of life, and it is in this capacity that Reed can approach his other duties with the respect they are owed.

Hence, Stone Axe. Reed’s band, founded in 2007 in Port Orchard, Washington and in which he does most of the studio work less the vocals (he leaves that duty up to friend Dru Brinkerhoff), is a nuts n’ bolts (that’s balls n’ lightning, baby) testament to rock’s classic aesthetics. Reed’s obsession with the heaviest, meanest, choicest, and oft obscure bands of the ’60s and ’70s infuses his songwriting with a golden, hairy-chested gusto. His old band, Mos Generator, sold the skies as a rocket fueled entity, a cosmic druggernaut of futuristic proportions, but Reed ultimately succumbed to Earth’s gravitational pull, and the urge to write dirt and mortar songs for past Gods was too strong to ignore.

Since its birth, Stone Axe has released two full-lengths, a 10″ EP, three 7″ singles, and a split with Sun Gods in Exile, proof that Reed’s work ethic is as relentless as his music. In fact, the start of this interview was delayed until Reed could return from working in Texas with Blood of the Sun. So there you go; he even goes whole hog for other bands, too. But the great preservationist finally put aside his craft for a moment to talk to me about his favourite songs of all time, his vinyl collection, what’s next for Stone Axe, playing the Wurlitzer, and, of course, beards.

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Dirty Sweet
American Spiritual
Acetate

San Diego’s Dirty Sweet belong to an emerging group of rock n’ roll revolutionaries, gentlemen prospectors clad in suspenders and dirty boots, returning home from the Gold Rush where they successfully panned along the banks of the country blues river for brilliant Southern rock nuggets. Along with contemporaries The Parlor Mob, Priestbird, The Main Street Gospel, Weird Owl, and (on a popular scale) Kings of Leon, they take the same trail blazed by The Rolling Stones, Cactus, The Allman Brothers, and The Black Crowes to usher in a new wave of forty-niner dust n’ soul known simply as mustache rock. American Spiritual, Dirty Sweet’s second album, is a slice of electric Americana with its fuzzy sights set squarely on the life and times of a country on the tipping point. They’ve even ratcheted up the tension this time around; where the songs on their first album, Of Monarchs and Beggars, were more homely and laid back, the songs on American Spiritual are more aggressive and boss, and come at you like an outlaw posse at high noon (dig “Get Up, Get Out,” “Please Beware,” “Kill or Be Killed,” and “Crimson Cavalry” for the loudest examples). However, this album isn’t without its laid back moments, and songs like “Star-Spangled Glamour,” “An Empty Road,” and “You Don’t Try” are prime examples of Dirty Sweet’s mastery of the front porch, sun-drenched ballad, while the title track is a Gothic gospel number that will haunt you just right. Smile a toothless grin, my friends, because mustache rock lives.

Check out the video for “Marionette” from American Spiritual!

Hell, why stop there? Check out the video for “You’ve Been Warned” from American Spiritual as well!

“Merlin wasn’t real.”
“Fuck you Merlin wasn’t real.”
“It’s a story.”
“Merlin was part of King Henry’s court and he fucking won all the wars for him ’cause he cast spells. Fuck you, man. That shit’s real.”
“He was part of King Arthur, not King Henry…”
“Yeah, it’s a fable. A fable is history.”

Ah, FUBAR. Amazing. But you know something? Deaner got it absolutely right. A fable is history. The divide between truth and fiction has long since vanished and wizards walk — or, rather, rock — amongst us. I know. So what you’re about to read, everything I’m about to tell you of the outlaw Gideon Smith and his court of motorcycle madmen, The Dixie Damned, may sound like pure cowboy fantasy, a Southern-fried fairy tale full of tumbleweed, rattlers, whiskey, blood, dust, ghosts, and backwoods psychedelia, but it’s simply this: the narcotic we desire most.

Gideon, the Charlotte, North Carolina native, began life as a wizard when he apprenticed at the faithful and frenzied school of Destructo Maximus as a roadie while under the bloody-faced tutelage of Jeff Clayton and his band of wrestlin’ lovin’ murder junkies, ANTiSEEN. The years he spent in that chaotic foxhole, surrounded by barb wire and explosives, arm in arm with the Confederacy of Scum, would spark in him a desire to branch out on his own. So, in 1997, Gideon took that giant leap into outlaw territory with some former Animal Bag members, now dubbed The Dixie Damned.

Gideon Smith & The Dixie Damned spin a swampy brand of blues-infused doom rock, a heavy dose of Southern boogie n’ groove with a hairy chest and meat cleavers for hands. They mix the super-sized spirituality of The Cult with the chain gang riffs of Circus of Power and end up with a shamanistic brand of trippy, bad-ass, redneck biker rock. Gideon’s vocals might be some of the most recognizable in all of rock n’ roll, rolling out of his diaphragm like they’re coming up from the bottom of a well, where Elvis’ bloated carcass floats face down in bong water. The band released a self-titled EP some time after forming, but it wasn’t until 2004′s full-length, Southern Gentlemen, that word came down that there was a new wizard in town.

But, like a wizard is wont to do, Gideon vanished for a few years, appearing only on various tribute albums and compilations. He spent his years in exile dealing with death and cultivating is outlaw way of life, recording some spoken word/poetry stuff on such themes as paganism, the occult, the power of positive thinking, beauty, creativity, and strength, and writing his manifesto, Way of the Outlaw Spirit. Gideon Smith & The Dixie Damned returned to the fold with a six-song EP, Dealin’ Decks, and their second full-length in 2008, South Side of the Moon.

So, what’s Gideon up to now? How goes it in the world of this particular wizard, this rock n’ roll outlaw? What bearded mischief has he been up to? Well, I take council with the man himself, my brother in both wizardry and beard, and we discuss such epic matters as his new album, what it means to be an outlaw, what it means to be a wizard (and how we can’t actually discuss anything to do with wizardry because it’s all top secret), and, of course, beards. There’s even an uncomfortable moment when I mention something about a girl and some chains. This is the stuff you crave, my friend. This is the fable of truth.

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