The Weeks

Margin Walker Presents

The Weeks

Caroline Rose

Sat, March 24, 2018

Doors: 7:00 pm / Show: 8:00 pm

Club Dada

Dallas, TX

$12 Advance // $15 Day of Show

This event is all ages

The Weeks
The Weeks
Rowdy, Raucous, Longhair Mississippi Glam Rock.
That's the sound of Easy, The Week's long-awaited followup to their breakthrough al- bum, Dear Bo Jackson. Recorded at Ardent Studios in Memphis — a place filled with the ghosts (and gear) of the Replacements, ZZ Top, and Big Star, all of whom traveled to Ardent to create their own landmark albums — Easy finds The Weeks doubling down on a mix of groove, grit, and guitars. It's swaggering and sharply-focused, shining new light on a band of brothers who, although still in their mid-20s, have already logged a decade's worth of sweaty gigs together.
If Easy bears resemblance to the raw, rowdy attitude of the The Weeks' live show, it's because the album was written at the end of a busy, five-year period that found the group rarely leaving the road.
"We moved to Nashville in 2010," remembers frontman Cyle Barnes, who formed the band in Jackson, Mississippi, with his three longtime bandmates: drummer (and twin brother) Cain Barnes, guitarist Sam Williams, and bass player Damien Bone. "We spent 2011 to 2015 touring. November 2015 was the first time we ever spent an entire month in Nashville."
Those years on the road were eye-opening for The Weeks, all of whom were just teen- agers when they began playing together in 2006. By their early 20s, the guys were tour- ing Europe with Kings of Leon, promoting the newly-released Dear Bo Jackson in front of 20,000 people each night. Back in America, The Weeks continued playing their own club shows, too. The experience taught them how to bridge the gap between arena shows and smaller gigs. In short, it taught them how to be themselves, no matter the audience.
Appropriately, Easy consolidates the band's strengths. While the songs on 2013's Dear Bo Jackson were thick with horn arrangements, strings, and guest appearances, Easy is a leaner, louder beast. The Weeks began working on its 11 tracks after returning home from a long tour and taking some time to rest, reflect, and regroup. Newly ener- gized, they began writing songs at Sam and Damien's home in Nashville, with Cyle and Williams splitting the bulk of the songwriting duties. The whole process relied on col- laboration, with the full band fleshing out the newer songs.
"Everyone would come to the house, make food, hang out, and play music 'til four in the morning," Williams remembers. "We wrote 25 songs, then picked our favorites for the final tracklist.
Easy is driving and direct, captured in punchy sound by producer Paul Ebersold. The goal was to clear out any unnecessary clutter, focusing instead on The Weeks' biggest strengths: the elastic power of Cyle's voice, capable of a crooning drawl one minute and a roof-raising howl the next; the range of Sam's guitar playing, from Motown-influenced chord stabs to garage-rock blasts of sound; and the interlocking rhythms of Damien and Cain. They threw some curveballs into the mix, too, riding a lovely, lazy, organ-heavy groove on the southern soul song "Hands on the Radio" and punctuating songs like "Ike" with a small horn section. Along the way, they made good use the studio's vintage gear, finding room on a handful of songs for Elvis Presley's microphone, Big Star's snare drum, the "Green Onions" organ from Booker T. & the M.G.'s.
"We said, 'If we can do this song in five chords, let's do it,'" says Sam. "That way, when- ever the curveballs do happen, they mean a lot. We focused on the songs first, and then we added stuff, as long as it didn't harm the energy or the groove. We wanted to pick our moments better."
Inspired by the real-life characters, places, and stories The Weeks encountered on tour, Easy is a record about where the band has been, as well as a sign of where they're go- ing. "I wanted the stories to be real — a little dark, maybe — but I wanted them to be redeeming, too," says Cyle, who began turning the stories into proper songs once the tour ended. He tossed some personal tales into the mix, too, with songs like the auto- biographical "Gold Doesn't Rust" focusing on the joy of plugging in, tuning up and rock- ing out.
"We just wanted to make a rock record," adds Damnien, shrugging his shoulders at the simplicity of it all. The Weeks earned their road warrior credentials years ago, but they've never defined their ambition — or the wide range of their abilities — this clearly before.
And speaking of simple...what's the deal with that album title?
"We called it Easy because every time I make music with these guys, it's easy," says Cain, who has spent more than a third of his life as a member of The Weeks. "It feels good. But the other side of it is, there's nothing easy about being in a band. There's nothing easy about staying together for 10 years and still wanting to make music. We have the hardest and easiest job on the planet. But it works for us."
Caroline Rose
Caroline Rose
I Will Not Be Afraid

Sometimes epic failures produce epic results. With the release of her new album I Will Not Be Afraid, keen-eyed young singer-songwriter Caroline Rose has broken her long string of short-circuits with a live-wire national debut that draws on her roots in rockabilly, vintage country and blues to capture her unique and personal vision.

Hoping to escape the dead ends that befell her hometown, colloquially dubbed a stop on "heroin highway", Rose found her way out via a full ride to a small liberal arts college, where she failed as a scholar, barely scraping by to graduation. Next came a stint as a failed hippie, working on and leaving an organic farm. She then bought a vintage sports car to travel the country, but it quickly broke down. On the plus side, Rose got a job at a cider distillery, where she got to taste apple brandy and applejack all day…Followed by a stint stocking shelves and sweeping floors at a grocery store for a boss who eventually fired her.

"That was the last straw," Rose recounts. "I don't like most bosses and most bosses don't like me. I don't like most professors and most professors don't like me. So here I am. I've made my own way on my own terms and it's destiny knocking on my door. BAM!"

She describes the 11 songs on I Will Not Be Afraid as "postcards I've picked up from along the road," and she means that literally. Rose is in perpetual motion. She tours and lives in her van, traveling the highways and back roads to fuel her creative spirit.

Rose's wanderlust has taken the 24-year-old from her birthplace in a not-so-idyllic small Northeastern town to every corner of the nation, where she's made friendships, heard stories and had experiences that she's fashioned into songs like "America Religious," which uses a driving snare drum with brushes and psychedelic folk fiddle to underpin the cool waterfall of her peaches and molasses voice as she sings about the open skies and the storm clouds inside the American heart. And in her own.

The themes of some of Rose's songs are drawn from the familiar. "Blood On Your Bootheels," which opens I Will Not Be Afraid with her prickly guitar and crazy-carnival organ, was inspired by the Trayvon Martin slaying and Rose's own passionate reaction to violence and intolerance. "Everyone seems to have their opinions about how to live free in this country, especially when it comes to young men and even more especially when it comes to young black men like Trayvon," Rose observes. Injustice and hardship also underline "Tightrope Walker," a song inspired by a friend's stories about working in the school system of an impoverished Mississippi town.

But other songs literally haunt her dreams. The gorgeous textural arrangement and lyrics of "When You Go" — which evoke the openness of both the Southwest and of the future in Rose's and co-producer Jer Coons' shimmering guitars and her strong, defiant vocal performance — tumbled out during a night's rest. "Sometimes songs come to me while I'm asleep and they wake me up, and that's the best time for me to write," Rose relates. "When I wake up my mind is like a clear glass of water. I can see everything and capture it." That's especially apt for the stream of consciousness lyrics that bring many of her numbers to life.

Rose's own life seems more akin to Jack Kerouac's On the Road. Growing up in a coastal town, her parents — who were visual artists with a love for travel — gave Rose a restless, creative spirit. And like many working class seaside locales, her hometown suffers epidemic heroin abuse.

"I saw a lot of my friends get consumed by it, but I was one of the people that got out," Rose says. "I worked my ass off to go to college and that really was my only plan of escape at that point. I think I was in denial about being an artist."

For two of those years Rose worked on the aforementioned farm, hoping the experience would provide her with balance and direction. "I liked the work, but I'm too city to be country and too country to be city," she offers. "So I moved on." When Rose worked at a cider distillery, she slept in the barn loft where she recorded many of the demos for I Will Not Be Afraid with her acoustic guitar.

"I finally accepted the idea that writing, singing and playing songs is the only thing I've ever really been good at," Rose relates, "so I decided to forget about everything else and live in my car, and I hit the road."

Rose joined a new generation of touring songwriters who blend tradition, innovation and edginess, like Hayes Carll, whom she opened for in 2014 and bandmember Jer Coons, whom Rose shared a bill with one night and discovered to be a kindred spirit. Rose produced I Will Not Be Afraid with co-production by Coons at his Burlington, Vermont studio, where they also made Rose's 2013 self-released America Religious, playing all the guitars, keyboards, harmonica, mandolin, drums and percussion themselves.

Rose explains that the title track is her mantra. "So many people are held back by fear," she says. "They wish they could do something else with their lives, and they just can't take the first step. I grew up questioning everything and learned that I needed to be on my own. I needed freedom and I needed to create on my own terms and to keep moving forward without fear, wherever I go.

"I also came to understand that I don't have any choice," she continues. "Music is what keeps me breathing. I can't do anything else."
Venue Information:
Club Dada
2720 Elm St.
Dallas, TX, 75226
http://dadadallas.com/