J. Isaiah Evans & the Boss Tweed - Americana Radio (2025)

The spirit of this music is charged. A retro curve of rock ‘n’ roll with a modern-day twist. It has the right voice, almost like Chubby Checker (Ernest Evans – no relation to J. Isaiah) on his more serious cuts like “Twenty Miles” & “Burn Up the Night.” Plus, the added benefit of a heavy-duty organ as a solid foundation.

The organ isn’t as aggressive as, say, blues-rock singer Lee Michaels’ Hammond B3 (“Stormy Monday” & “Rock Me, Baby”), but it has a cool thrust throughout many songs. But there are some blemishes.

Ten well-cultivated tunes recorded in Memphis & Dallas live-in-the-studio play on Americana Radio. Produced by Scott McEwen in glorious analog for depth & fidelity. However, there is a slight muddiness, & I have heard analog crisp & pristine in the past. I’ll dismiss it for now since it may be what they want to capture. I found it distracting on songs that had heft & were performed with an enduring punch.

Four songs deep & each is a jewel. There’s no huge production, just primarily 3 well-heeled musicians who know how to rock. J. Isaiah Evans (guitar/vocals) is a smoking lead vocalist who has the rock intonations & phrasing lashed together tightly. The drama’s controlled (“A Thing For You”), which is well arranged for a power trio.

If this were the late ‘60s, they’d dominate with the likes of Sly & the Family Stone & The Chambers Brothers. The drums are wonderfully snappy with taste in place of flash. I’m pleased that the effects are at a minimum. It’s old school, but it’s good old school. It’s juke joint smoking, it’s Saturday night cruising with a Simonized convertible, it’s dancing with a girl who loves candy apples but would prefer to dance with you. That’s what this music provides. It makes me want to sit on the hood of a car on a breezy summer night & shout at the moon.

Booker T. of the MGs would love “The Devil Makes Three.” It’s rock n’ roll but it has soul which drifts into “Stand Up,” — strictly a trek down the path The Bar-Kays & Mitch Ryder may have walked. Cool slices. Steady beat. A driving manifestation of funk.