"3 Cheers to Nothing" arrived in my box unannounced and unasked for. I put it on as I was driving (as I do) and nearly rear-ended a bus.
I can see the children looking behind them with little circles for eyes and big open mouths, horror written all over... and then there was the rest of the drive, complete with sirens (bloody things, they take ages to get rid of), driving on the wrong side of the footpath, and a few dents on the roof (bloody cyclists).
You should be familiar with her record company: they declare they stock "Music to Ruin any Party" (they don't, the only parties they'd ruin would be political ones), Voodoo Rhythm (the folk who bring you Bob Log III, Dead Brothers, Delaney Davidson, Pierre Omer, The Pussywarmers and (in Europe) Rocket Science) and a host of others ... so Voodoo Rhythm have form, as they say of old lags, and fine, fine taste.
So. Trixie and the Trainwrecks. Never heard of 'em? Nope, me neither, but by god this is so fucking good, bursting with freshness and smarts. First, Trixie herself has released a solo LP - get it on vinyl, CD and download here.
The preamble to the above asserts:
"Tthe album delivers a highly entertaining batch of music between Country, Blues and for sure Rockabilly. Not many one-man-bands are so closed to the rockin' circuit like Trixie Trainwreck with this album. “A mixture of Debbie Harry and Dolly Parton, the voice is the focal point and unfolds a certain charm, which you can’t escape”...
Which all sounds pretty damn good to me. Haven't heard it yet. Too busy spinning this little beast.
Voodoo Rhythm give us Trixie's basic story, and it's a cracker:
"Trixie Trainwreck aka Trinity Sarratt was born in San Francisco and moved to Berlin on a whim when she was 18. She started her musical endeavours in the underground trains back in 1999 and went on to make a name for herself working in and promoting shows in almost every bar in town as well as touring the EU and the USA with a handful of bands (Kamikaze Queens, Cry Babies, Runaway Brides) and most recently with her one woman show as Trixie Trainwreck No Man Band. She’s probably the hardest working girl in showbiz...and a mother, too!!?"
Holy cats. This is one determined, talented woman. Great voice, too. Voodoo Rhythm continue:
"3 Cheers to Nothing" sums up the last 18 years of the San Francisco born, Berlin based Trixie Trainwreck in exile, taking you along on her personal adventures and inner struggles with the ghosts of yesterdays past, angels, demons, and everything in between."
Let's go backwards, though. Bruce Brand is on drums and percussion and he's no newbie, he's played in Thee Headcoats, Milkshakes and Holly Golightly. The chap on lapsteel and guitar is Paul Seacroft, who's played in the Selector and with Prince Buster. Right about now you should have your juices flowing.
There's a guy on harp called, alternately, Charlie Hangdog and Charlie Harpoon. Along with Trixie, he's on the cover, the pair of them looking dangerous and moody in an alley. While Charlie is, at first listen, a huge presence on "3 Cheers to Nothing", but it's really the band itself. It's like they walked in out of a 1950s Howling Wolf session, ready to roll.
Trixie's lyrics are vivid, real, steeped in the wonderland of the US blues and gritter, made more real and modern by Trixie's distinctly travelled voice, words and sheer attitude. Yes, there are a few cliche type things, but the songs all ring true, every one. If you was younger and not the fat wheezy old sack of shit we all seem to have turned into recently, you'd be bouncing around the living room, spilling red wine and treading on the wife's dog. (Instead, you'll probably mumble and nod your head and spill your milky cocoa on the wife's dog).
So, no. I'm not gonna tell you in detail. Tough. "3 Cheers to Nothing" is up there with your favourite roots r'n'r, right up there with yer rockabilly cats and damn superior to most. Either way - regardless of genre... "3 Cheers to Nothing" is a fucking great record and if you don't pull out your card right now I'll never review for you again.
Get it here and for fuck's sake tell them you're under 30.
Five, no make that six bottles of rawkin', stomping, squalling, gnashin' and a carryin' on.
