Acoustic duo The Maverick Stanzas’ debut release New Vintage Folk is a healthy serving of traditional folk and blues. Recorded at an outdoor show in New Braunfels, Texas, New Vintage Folk has the unbridled feel of a Greenwich Village hootenanny circa 1965—loose, natural and rough around the edges. As traditionalists who understand 78-rpm-era splendor, the Stanzas brighten this fading American art form with a stripped-down, stress-relieving fashion to create a laid-back time-travelling experience.
New Vintage Folk keeps the tradition alive, working as a revue of old and old-style folk songs performed in a fresh contenting vibe. Urban polish is added to rural muck on “Hesitation Blues,” the standout track. Throughout, Creech’s finger-picked guitar is constantly jazzy. There’s an achy rendition of the Delmore Brothers’ 1933 hit “Deep River Blues,” where a high-lonesome sound captures the early spark of the pre-war blues when it was just starting to cross over into country. There’s also a nod to the post-war era when the blues went to the city and got electric (“My Babe”), and Walther comes close to Little Walter’s menacing harmonica vamp. The Stanzas also make sacrificial offerings to their enduring inspiration, Mississippi John Hurt with “Satisfied” and “Let The Mermaids Flirt With Me.” As on “Satisfied”, the Piedmont picking delivers the necessary fluid tempo while the harp roams freely.
On “Swamp Dog Blues,” the gentle, Delta melody offers Creech a chance to shine, while Walther pops through the cracks. Creech’s nonchalant and unpretentious voice is the perfect companion for the distressing lyrics of “St James Infirmary Blues”, the timeless centuries-old ballad.
At the centerpiece of New Vintage Folk is a train-themed set, featuring a loving mashup of Elizabeth Cotten’s folk classic “Freight Train” and the bad-man ballad “Railroad Bill.” On “Halfway to Jackson,” the jumpingest track on the album, Walther leans into the mic for a train-chugging effect.
A new varnish is applied to Blind Willie Johnson’s forlorn pre-war masterpiece “Dark Was the Night (Cold Was the Ground)”. When he finds Johnson’s anguish, you can hear in Creech’s haunting, scarred Delta moan that he is confronting an old acquaintance. The Stanzas close with a world-weary rendering of “Deep Elem Blues,” the perennial blues standard about the Dallas neighborhood with a dark underbelly. It’s here where the Maverick Stanzas throw down bitter wisdom with wailing harmonica and soulful vocals: “Oh sweet mama, daddy’s got them Deep Ellem blues.”
