– photo by Kat Dalton
Special Sunday Showcase: Johnny DOWD! wsg: Aging Womanizer
Tickets are $10 to see the legend himself, Johnny Dowd!
Stop by Quinn’s to reserve your ticket today!
“Imagine if Hank Williams had mutated into Captain Beefheart, acquiring a bunch of primitive electronic equipment along the way, and you’ll get some idea of where Johnny Dowd is at on Execute American Folklore. . . . Gloriously deviant.“
— Andy Gill, The Independent (London)
Guess what came out today…brand new Johnny Dowd album for you suckas!!!
“Execute American Folklore”
Ballsy red hot groovy shit. Hip hop blues funk fuck nightmare poetry pie.
Go over to his website
and throw down the clams for it. Also available everywhere else.
– Acoustic Magazine
Look what came in the post today
Got my new John Dowd CD/t-shirt package today! Yeah!!!
Best thing to show up in my mailbox in ages. As expected, another great album.
Got mine today! Sounds great on my old school stereo! Listened 3 times through so far and like it more everytime. Thank you, Johnny
Now playing on the big, bad Bose! Johnny you have out cooled even your own cool self! Thanks for making it a great mojo day, John Dowd!
Been having a great time blasting this the past week. Thanks for the awesome tunes!
Look what came in the mail today! My hero, Johnny Dowd
Just arrived from the US of A… (listening now). Thanks, John See you in Islington, in October…
Thank you John Dowd for the great music and the fine swag!!
Johnny Dowd – Execute American Folklore
Imagine if Hank Williams had mutated into Captain Beefheart, acquiring a bunch of primitive electronic equipment along the way, and you’ll get some idea of where Johnny Dowd is at on Execute American Folklore. The songs, narrated in Dowd’s ornery, fatalist drawl, feature his usual cast of hapless characters adrift in a world of mordant ill-fortune, but this time they are driven by mutant funk grooves crafted with buzzing, quacking synthesisers. “Unease And Deviance” sets the tone, harsh drum-machine driving its account of “twisted terror, vicious pleasure”; before the protagonists of “Sexual Revolution” and “Rhumba In The Park” suffer their below-the-belt blows. But balancing this is the maniacal glee with which Dowd recounts the detriments of booze and drugs in “Whiskey Ate My Brain”, climaxing in the album’s most wonderfully tortured burst of guitar noise. Gloriously deviant.
– Andy Gill, The Independent (UK)