The Foys
have a melancholy, Southern sound that often manifests itself in slow-blues
numbers such as “Slow Road” and “Sometimes”; they
like locking into a spare, evocative groove, then riding the groove for
several minutes while Kevin Foy or fellow singer Charee Hendricks creates
an atmosphere of danger or longing. Foy’s voice is both smooth and
leathery, and the brooding masculinity in his singing is often smartly
complemented by Hendricks’ high harmonies. Guitarists Bert Hendley
and Joe Pennisi thrive in the slow numbers, carving sharp arcs of sound,
and the players come together during the quicker tunes, such as “Same
Old Blues,” which swing nicely. The only real false note is the beginning
of the Hendricks-penned and -sung “I Don’t Understand,”
which cops a riff from the blues standard “Fever.”
For folks
who find slow-blues numbers too, well, slow, Pearl Street is a bouncier
listen. Front man Healey has a clear, lived-in voice and a fair amount
of attitude; there’s a lot to be said for a guy who opens a disc
with a song telling someone to “get your mean ass out of here.”
Even though its content is downbeat enough to be appropriately called
the blues, Pearl Street generally is more uptempo than the Foy Brothers
disc, and it benefits from the presence of Keith Pray’s sax lines,
many of which are double-tracked for extra impact. George Deveny’s
swampy slide-guitar lines during “Sick and Tired” and “Kitchen’s
Closed” are nice touches, and Jason Ladanye’s organ work adds
greatly to the fullness of the band’s sound. Healey also gets points
for the writerly way he attacks his subjects: The lust with which the
narrator of “Hookerfied” listens to his neighbors do the nasty
is palpable, and even a little disquieting.
