David Serby

It's no surprise that David Serby is from Southern California. His fresh brand of progressive traditionalism incorporates some of the twangified electric thrust of Bakersfield - pedal-steel great Jay Dee Maness of Buck Owens' Buckaroos plays on the album - and a touch of Dwight Yoakam's sleek stylishness.

Serby has had a life that could be a country song - or several: put up for adoption at 6 months, a bad early marriage, turning to music only after he hit 30, and finding out his biological father was a honky-tonk musician (and friend of Maness'). It's inspiration for songs that pack quite a punch, wallowing beautifully in heartache and sadness when not dripping with menace ("You're Not Going Anywhere," "We Don't Live Here Anymore"). It all adds up to a sterling new chapter in the history of California country.

- Nick Cristiano
- Philadelphia Inquirer

DAVID SERBY, HONKY TONK AND VINE (Harbor Grove, late April/early May)

South Pasadena-based singer-songwriter Serby's albums I Just Don't Go Home and Another Sleepless Night established him as a formidable tunesmith who knows the honky-tonk template by heart. Honky Tonk and Vine finds Serby and his terrific band the Sidewinders (led by his producer and guitarist Ed Tree) in superb form. Beyond primo country like "Get It in Gear," "Permanent Position," and "I Only Smoke When I'm Drinkin'," he stretches comfortably into Southern soul ("Honky Tonk Affair") and Tex-Mex ("For Cryin' Out Loud"). Qualitatively, Serby continues to nip at the heels of his principal role model Dave Alvin, crafting songs that are by turns good-humored and touching, played with fire and sung with conviction.

-- Chris Morris - LA City Beat

David Serby, we're thinking you're the real deal. See, we're bored of the quasis, part-timers, semis, adjuncts and maybes. We're tired of hearing honky tonk-inflected, tear-in-my-beer jams from urban hipsters who were blastin' Sugar Ray and The Barenaked Ladies ten years ago. We're worn from listening to Angelinos, who've just pulled out of the garages of their Silver Lake flats in their foreign-nameplated rides, launch a front as if they've just peeled out of a ranch house in a rusty Chevy Stepside somewhere on the outskirts of Stillwater, OK. That type of stuff pains us about as much as having to endure the Baha Men's "Who Let The Dogs Out," Creed's "Higher" and Gloria Estefan's "Comeonletchabodygonnaloosecontrolah" (or whatever that song's called—yeah, you know the one) for the umpteenth time. But, a dude like South Pasadena-based Serby won't have us freaking wince to oblivion. We don't know what it is, really, but we're captivated; we're truly, bluely wanting to hear more. Serby, you're the real deal, and we're mandating another round of "I Only Smoke When I'm Drinkin'," a sappy, saggin' tune boasting a title that (on the surface) sounds redundantly ironic, yet when spun, is so gripping and gratifying, we're whipping out a pack of Marlboro Reds and searching for that bottle of (imported) Shiner Bock. Lungs and liver be damned—Serby has our ears and hearts well within his grasp. (George Donovan)



- Inland Empire Weekly

Southern California's long history as a hub for people on the move makes the notion of roots -- familial or cultural -- more elusive than most other places.

But on their latest releases, Southland natives Dave Alvin and David Serby don't just mine the field of roots music, confidently setting their songs in primal rock, twangy California country, rolling New Orleans R&B or earthy bluegrass surroundings.

In different ways they also focus on why it matters where we come from and how that plays into who we are.

Alvin's always been a master storyteller, and as he's often done so powerfully in the past, the "Dave Alvin and the Guilty Women" album sees him looking at his formative years as a music-loving kid in Downey yearning to sample the plentiful music available a few miles to the north.

"Boss of the Blues" lets the listener ride shotgun as he recalls the wonderment of cruising Central Avenue with brother Phil and blues-R&B shouter Big Joe Turner decades ago. Even then, the Central Avenue jazz-blues-R&B scene was long past its prime, but some of the music legends who'd played there in its '40s and '50s heyday were still around to share their stories with starry-eyed bucks like the Alvin brothers.

Then there's "Nana and Jimi," a tale of getting a ride into Hollywood to hear Jimi Hendrix for the first time, an event he knew would change his life forever, and "Downey Girl," in which a woman represents a town that in turn represents anyone's search for identity.

Alvin recently assembled the Guilty Women with sterling players Cindy Cashdollar, Nina Gerber, Laurie Lewis, Sarah Brown, Amy Farris, Christy McWilson and Lisa Pankratz after the death last year of his best friend and Guilty Men band mate Chris Gaffney. Rather than try to quickly fill a giant void in that outfit, he decided to go a different direction entirely.

Alvin and his new outfit will play their first area gig June 20 at the Coach House in San Juan Capistrano.

Serby was born in L.A. but raised by adoptive parents in Illinois and has carved a niche as a tradition-minded singer and songwriter happy to carry the torch of California country ignited in the '50s by Buck Owens. Serby only recently discovered that his roots in Southern California music run deeper than his love for the Bakersfield sound: Upon locating and meeting his biological father a couple of years ago, he was happily surprised to discover his father had worked as a country musician too.

He's got an immensely enjoyable light tenor, not so much like those of his most obvious country influences but closer to another underestimated SoCal rock and country innovator, Rick Nelson.

"I Only Smoke When I'm Drinking" is a masterful cry-in-your-beer waltz, aided considerably by the exquisite work of one of the great West Coast steel guitarists, Jay Dee Maness. "For Cryin' Out Loud" is a peppery Tex Mex polka in the "Streets of Bakersfield" mold.

Serby's songs rarely touch as deeply as Alvin's. Like Owens, Serby, who plays Sunday at the Grand Old Echo, is drawn more toward snappy couplets and witty turns of phrase than to Merle Haggard-like insights into the human condition. But they sure will sound great in a honky-tonk jukebox, in L.A. or anywhere.

Dave Alvin and the Guilty Women
"Dave Alvin and the Guilty Women"
(Yep Roc)
Three and a half stars

David Serby
"Honkytonk and Vine"
(Harbor Grove)
Three stars - Los Angeles Times -- Randy Lewis

Artist: David Serby
Home: Los Angeles
Age: 45

Musical Influences: Dwight Yoakam and Dave Alvin ("the two giants of Southern California country music, ever since I started listening to it anyway"), Willie Nelson, Hank Williams, Johnny Cash, Buck Owens, Merle Haggard, Wynn Stewart

Bio: It's one of the more interesting music-world stories in recent memory. As chronicled in a Los Angeles Times cover feature late last year, Southern California-based country singer-songwriter David Serby finally met his biological father, Pete Canton, some 40 years after Serby's birth. Turned out that Canton is also a country musician; he's a bassist who played with Johnny Western (and thus toured with Johnny Cash when Western was part of the Man in Black's road show) and led Tex Williams' band for many years. "A strange coincidence, but a happy one for sure," says Serby. It also might go a long way toward explaining why Serby was always drawn to music despite his adoptive parents not being musically inclined. His birth father was part of L.A.'s country scene in the '60s and '70s, and now, 3 decades removed, Serby is a member in excellent standing of the city's latest roots/country community. And as evidenced by his third release, the fine new "Honkytonk and Vine," he writes and sings like a man with country music blood chugging through his veins.

CST's Take: David Serby's sounds great standing on the corner of Honkytonk and Vine, but he also has the talent to left-turn on to Tex-Mex and Country Soul.

Country Standard Time: How about telling us a little something about the roots/country scene in L.A.?
David Serby: I think it's a great scene. It's a scene that doesn't get a lot of attention outside of - well, it doesn't even really get a lot of attention in Los Angeles, sadly. But there's a lot of great writers here, somebody like Mike Stinson, who wrote Late, Great Golden State, which Dwight Yoakam put on a record a couple of years ago. He's out here and has been making great music for several years. A band like I See Hawks in L.A. There are just so many great bands out here playing roots music, and they kind of have the genre surrounded. Nobody's doing exactly the same thing, and everybody is really supportive of each other. There's a cool little scene out here, and I really happy to count all these guys and gals as friends of mine.

CST: For you, why country music? What's the appeal as a songwriter, as a musician, and as a band leader?
DS: You know, I think country music is just kind of what comes out of me when I write. But also, I love the conversational way that country music communicates. It's very plain-spoken. There's a beginning, there's a middle, and there's an end, for the most part. It deals with real emotions that people experience every single day of their lives in a relatable way. That's what I really love about country music.

CST: A local country musician offered up this quote recently: "Honky tonk is a musical language. It's not restrictive. There are many places you can go with it." I was wondering, seeing how the title of your new record is "Honkytonk and Vine," what your reaction is to that quote.
DS: I don't know that I disagree with that, but I think that one of the interesting things about genres is there are rules and people do kind of have pre-set expectations. And I think the challenge is to try to do something creative or unique within that structure. That's what I like about country music. It's not the blues, but it's like the blues. The blues is a structured kind of language, but not everybody's saying the same thing, and not everybody's playing the same thing. You get people doing really incredible and interesting things within that structure. I think honky tonk is the same way. There is a structure there, and people do have real expectations, but that doesn't mean you can't step outside of that and do something interesting with it. I do think it's a little more structured than being limitless.

CST: Country music songwriting, in addition to tending to be plain-spoken as you noted, is also known for its wordplay and twists of phrases and dual meanings. On your new record, For Crying Out Loud does that, Permanent Position and The Heartache Is on the Other Sleeve. I always think of Roger Miller's The Last Word in Lonesome Is Me as perhaps the height of that.
DS: That guy was a genius, a giant.

CST: I'll get back to the question in a second, but let's take a quick Roger Miller detour. One of the first albums I can remember being in the house when I was growing up was "Roger Miller's Greatest Hits."
DS: Did you grow up in the bedroom next to mine. (laughs) Same thing, that was one of my favorite records growing up. That was one of the records I could put, on and both my dad and I could tolerate listening to the same music for a change.

CST: Anyway, I was wondering if you would talk about that aspect of country songwriting.
DS: I was watching a "Crossroads" I think with Lyle Lovett and Bonnie Raitt, and they were talking about the blues and how the blues really is a feel-good music even though it's called "the blues." From the outside looking in, you'd think it was a depressing art form, but it's really about feeling better and feeling good. And if you look at country music like it's kind of blues music, the songs are sad stories, but you don't want to be miserable all the time. You want a smile on your face. And I think it's a way that country music has of injecting humor into misery. And it's one of my favorite things about country music. Whenever I'm out and about and I hear something that pops into my head, I think "that's a great twist. I need to figure out how to put that in a song." I was at the Cinema Bar one night with my buddy Todd, and we were talking, and I said, "So what do you do for a living, Todd?" And he was telling me, and I said, "Wouldn't it be great if we could get paid to hang out here and drink beer?" I went home and thought, "God, that's a country song." And that's how I came up with Permanent Position.

CST: I want to comment on this line, which I love: "I only smoke when I'm drinking/I only drink to forget." Where did that one come from?
DS: Even when I'm not playing, I spend a lot of time hanging out in bars, watching my friends play music. I used to smoke in bars with my friends, but I got in too many fights with my wife, before she was my wife, and I thought if I keep this up, I'll never get a wife. So I don't smoke. But two times in a week, someone asked to bum a cigarette off me in a bar and go outside and smoke, and I said "You know, I only smoke when I'm drinking." I thought that had to be some kind of sign that someone asked me twice, and I said it twice. Then I thought that someone had to have put that in a song already, so I Googled it and couldn't find it anywhere. Well, then, I've got a song. That's how that one came about.

CST: For your last question, I'm going to ask you to play DJ. You're putting together a three-song set, and Permanent Position is in the middle. What are you playing before it and after it?

DS: Okay. You're probably the only one who's ever asked that question of anyone. Let's see. Someone asked me the other day what I listen to, and I said I listen to my friends' records because everyone I know is a country musician here in town, and everyone has a record. And it's a great record, and you never hear it on the radio. The first song that popped into my head is one by Mike Stinson called Six-Pack of Lonely, and that's what I'd put as the first song. And I think (Dwight Yoakam's) Two Doors Down is what I'd close the set with. That's one of my favorites; it's a great song.
- Country Standard Time -- Rick Cornell

Somewhere along the way some critic is going to refer to David Serby as "neo-honkytonker. . . " The one problem with such an assertion, while technically accurate, is its obliviousness to this Southern California artist's extra-terrestrial origins. There's nothing neo- about his third album, Honkytonk and Vine; it's true blue, bred-in-the-bone hard country and honkytonk by one of the most engaging young artists on the boards today. In the same way that Duffy emerged practically untouched by anything recorded after the 1960s, so does David Serby seem to have dropped in from a place where he was insulated from the most annoying trends in country music of the past decade or two. No hat act, this, even though he wears a hat; no warmed-over '80s arena rock thievery; and he's not a washed up hair metal artist stumbling over himself trying to assert his lifelong, blatantly dubious love of roots music with the most formulaic, cynical, bloodless sort of prefab tripe imaginable (are you listening, Jon?).

No, the good Mr. Serby and his producer Edward Tree seem to have spent a lot of time soaking up the ethos of Messrs. Yoakam and Anderson when they were a dynamic duo--there's a good deal of appealing reverb on Serby's agreeable vocals, lots of twang to go around, and a few other sonic tricks Dwight and Pete used so effectively in their heyday: the robust, soul organ adding an extra cushion of heartache to the vivid melancholy of "Honky Tonk Affair," the Tex-Mex accordion spicing up the sprightly jig of "For Cryin' Out Loud," a lonely man's lament contrasted by a bright, high-stepping south of the border arrangement, for instance. And though Serby's lyrics are not even close to the sort of apocalyptic personal debacles Yoakam outlines in his poison pen letters to lovers who dumped him. Serby's a bit more genial, or more Zen, about his romantic misadventures and where they leave him. "I'm a cross-eyed cowboy falling off my stool" is how he describes the effect a comely lass has on him in the rambunctious, rockabilly-redolent album opener, "Get It In Gear"; amidst the Dwight shuffle and twang of "You're Serious," he complains, "You treat men like toys," but it has none of the malevolence of the classic Yoakam kiss-offs we've become acquainted with in classics such as "Ain't That Lonely Yet"; and about the meanest he gets is when he croons amiably, "You'll be the saddest girl around/because when you look around/there won't be nobody chasing you" to a gal who just won't be caught in "Chasin' You," as he gives up the ghost of romance with this particular tart. Elsewhere he offers up one of the coolest drinkin' songs in recent memory in the acoustic-based, steel-drenched honky tonk weeper, "I Only Smoke When I'm Drinkin'," and in the brisk shuffle of "Country Club Couples" he acknowledges both some sly slippin' around and class co-mingling, you might say, in its depiction of upper crust couples trysting with others "on the other side of town." This latter even has a melody and arrangement reminiscent of some of Carl Perkins's early, country-tinged Sun sides, ditto for the aforementioned burner, "Get It In Gear," and it's been a long time since you could sense the spirit of the Original Cat in a contemporary song. Doug Sahm, Ernest Tubb, even a little Skynyrd ("Go On and Cry") inform a few other tracks, as Serby conjures a vibrant, colorful honky tonk world of his own making. There's a lot of meat on the bone here already, and Serby gives every indication of being an artist who can give you a lot more to chew on as time passes. Good enough on its own merits, Honkytonk and Vine is equally intriguing for what it says about Serby's staying power. He means to hang around.


- The Bluegrass Special -- David McGee

A Late Bloomer's Neon Nights

The sound of California country and western music has historically focused more on the "western" edge of the equation. With his latest release Honky Tonk and Vine (Harbor Grove Records), singer/songwriter David Serby reveals essential links in a significant of musical tradition. "I love that stuff,' he says. "That's who I am and what I'm comfortable doing."

Surrounded by a stellar band that includes guitarist/producer Ed Tree, bassist Taras Prodaniuk, drummer Gary Ferguson and steel guitar great Jay Dee Maness, whose sound Serby describes as "teardrops coming off the strings," the unassuming Serby acknowledges his compadres - whose credits range from John Hiatt to Dwight Yoakam - with humility and appreciation. "I learn so much by hanging out and keep my mouth shut," he laughs.

As a songwriter and an artist, Serby, who now resides in South Pasadena, CA, came into his own later than many of his contemporaries. Although he'd fronted bands in high school, his music aspirations were supplanted by marriage and a straight job. "I felt old from the time I graduated high school. For 10 years, from the time I was 20 to 30, I didn't tough a guitar. Then, when I was 30, my dad, who had raised me, died and my marriage broke up. I was miserable until I realized I could do anything I wanted. And I felt young again when I decided to do something I enjoyed. I started playing and writing and a whole world opened up."

Serby retunred to the stage playing for audiences at open mic events. "Getting up with a guitar after 10 years, I was petrified. But I would force myself to do it over and over again." And he was well aware that the decade-long hiatus could have been insurmountable. "I had to get through being behind. I would write songs that were brand new and I wouldn't even know them. I'd screw 'em up, but it helped me to build that callous."

Honky Tonk and Vine is Serby's third release. His first, I Just Don't Go Home, was a folkier, singer/songwriter record while Another Sleepless Night, his follow up, was more of a band effort. He notes that for the new record, most of the songs had been worked out in front of live audiences before they were recorded. Indeed, the first three tracks, a rousing "Get It In Gear," the loping "If You're Serious," and the straight ahead "Chasin' You" could probably induce even the most moribund, shot-swilling barstool denizen to hit the dance floor.

Serby writes almost exclusively on his own. "It's not hard to sit down with a guitar and come up with a melody, but if I did this I'd have 20 melodies and no words. When I start with a title or a concept, I get it." He says that a response he gave twice in one week when he was asked for cigarettes provided a title for one of the album's most memorable songs, "I Only Smoke When I'm Drinking," a timeless alcohol and nicotine infused country epic.

Serby says he can discover wellsprings of inspiration simply by observing what goes on around him. "There's nothing I love more than having a flight delayed. The airport is a beautiful place - people are connecting and breaking apart, and there are kids and old folks. You can see a lot of great stuff.

A puzzling piece of Serby's genealogical history was put in place a few years ago when he tracked down his biological father who was revealed to be Pete Canton, a bass player now living in Arizona who had been a stalwart on the L.A. country scene in the '60s and '70s. They songwriting economy of music from those decades informs the incisive lyrics and straight ahead melodies that give Honky Tonk and Vine its timeless quality.

"There is so much history," concludes Serby. "Nashville gets a ton of ink and so does Texas, for good reason. Maybe people don't think southern California when they think about country music, but there is a great tradition of folks here making great music."

http://musicconnection.com/digital/ - Dan Kimpel

It's been a couple of years since David Serby's last album, Another Sleepless Night, saw the light of day and during that time he's continued honing his craft to perfection and even met his biological father for the first time. All this occurring on the backside of 30 is a little unconventional to be sure, but never mind that, his latest has him poised to break out of the local L.A. country scene and into discussion alongside the truly great country albums of the year.

Honkytonk and Vine is Serby's third release to date and continues to build on his previous efforts, culminating in one exceedingly pleasing listen. The album's musical influences run the gamut from honky-tonk (of course) to Tex-Mex, rockabilly, pop, soul, and even a bluegrass flavored tune with a melody that sounds suited for Western swing.

For something so stylistically diverse, Honkytonk and Vine is remarkably cohesive and pleasing rather than exhausting and confusing, and is anchored together by a voice which, although it cannot be called pristine, is much like Ralph Stanley II's voice on his 2008 release This One is Two; Serby's emotive ability is first-rate and his vocal phrasing is delightful.

Serby's lyrics are simple, but evocative and freshly worded. Take, for instance, these lines from "Get It In Gear," a song about a girl who keeps the narrator on his toes: "She burns through gin like motor fuel - I'm a cross-eyed cowboy falling off my stool" humorous, expressive, and revealing. Despite their simplicity, Serby's songs are capable of being pondered to reveal deeper truths without falling apart under scrutiny, and there's not a bad one in the bunch. Quite the accomplishment, and especially so considering he penned each of the 13 songs himself.

Serby doesn't attempt to push any boundaries in an indulgent attempt to be original, but nonetheless sounds creative while working within a particular framework, drawing from a number of influences and leaning on tradition without using it as a crutch.

However, Honkytonk and Vine still manages to be a musically stunning piece of work that breathes life and soul into a genre that's been overrun with calculated guitar solos and melodic sound-alikes that deviate little from formulated templates. It's music that demands to be noticed alongside the lyrics and is interesting where mainstream releases have recently failed - it's not a thickly layered wall of Shinola, but rather - as Serby describes a character in "Chasin' You" - it is "style beyond compare."

This is an album that hasn't been overly filtered and manages to make fewer missteps than ones that pass by infinitely more eyes and hands. So, while it seemingly takes more risks, the reward is far greater.

In short, with Honkytonk and Vine you can have your cake and eat it, too; style and substance. Imagine that.

4.5 out of 5 Stars

Recommended: "Tumble Down," "I Only Smoke When I'm Drinkin'," "The Heartache's On the Other Sleeve," "Country Club Couples"


- The 9513 - Brady Vercher

Though he grew up in Illinois with adoptive parents, Serby’s a bona fide throwback to the throwback sounds of mid-80s Los Angeles. Ironically, he was born in Los Angeles to a biological father, only recently discovered, who was also a country musician. Serby’s honky-tonk swells from the same roots as the Blasters, but with a deeper helping of the country twang and two-step rhythms Dwight Yoakam brought to the scene. Serby’s vocals favor a gentler version of the Blasters’ Phil Alvin, but he also dips into a croon, such as with the Tex-Mex “For Cryin’ Out Loud,” splitting the difference between Yoakam and Ricky Nelson. The influential echoes are a bit eerie, but the swinging and songwriting are the real deal.

The album opens with twangy electric guitar and hot fiddle licks on the car themed “Get it in Gear.” Serby chases the object of his affection with enough hot rod allusions to make Brian Wilson and Roger Christian smile. He rains tears into his beer, despairs of cheating, and chases the tail-ends of revolving relationships to emerge with a sense of redemption when the dumper finds herself the dumpee. He writes sad songs, but doesn’t sing them sad as the band mostly sticks to jaunty mid-tempos. The down-tempo numbers, including the empathic ballad “Tumble Down,” and country soul “Honky Tonk Affair” are terrific, making you wish Serby would slow down a bit more often.

Serby’s a superb craftsman, expanding clever song titles into lyrics whose rhymes flow as smoothly as conversation. He’s just as clever with his music, mixing up straight two-steps, accordion lined Tex-Mex, Bakersfield sting, and Blasters-styled blue roots-rock. His band is terrific (the rhythm section of bassist Taras Prodaniuk and drummer Gary Ferguson is truly propulsive), as is guest steel from Rick Shea and the legendary Jay Dee Maness and fiddle from Gabe Witcher. Adding to the historic coincidence, Maness played with Serby’s birth father in decade’s past. Shaking off a career in insurance, Serby indulged unknown musical genes and crafted a career filled with the joy of making music. That joy is in every country root he intertwines here.

http://www.hyperbolium.com/2009/05/11/david-serby-honkytonk-and-vine - Hyperbolium

David Serby’s mug, pictured on the back of his new Honkytonk and Vine CD, is the perfect image of modern day honky tonk man. He has the hat, the beard, and the jean jacket. Heck he’s not too far off from looking like a young Merle Haggard! Vocally, however, he’s miles away from The Hag’s rough ‘n tumble vocal tone. Instead, Serby has a smooth, suave singing instrument, which he uses to subtly get his points across. And while the CD cover features a close up of his boots touching down on a Hollywood Walk of Fame star, this man has by no means come any where close to going Hollywood yet. Those boots are just too tall and thick to let Hollywood’s corrupting influence in.

Like all the best country performers, Serby often sounds like a soul singer with twang. Take, “Honky Tonk Affair”, for example. Skip Edwards adds Hammond B3, like it’s an Al Green ‘70s soul ballad, while the lead guitar part brings bluesman Robert Cray’s stinging lead lines to mind. But with “I Only Smoke When I’m Drinkin’”, Serby is beautifully politically incorrect. He engages in both of these vices (smoking and drinking, that is) quite a bit because he only drinks to forget, and he has a load on his mind that can only be drowned away. Instrumentally, the wonderful Jay Dee Maness lays on the pedal steel thick and pure, just like an unfiltered cigarette in a club without ventilation. With “The Grass is Always Bluer”, Serby trades his amplified bar music for Kentucky hills acoustic sounds, which provide a strikingly pleasing contrast.

“Country Club Couples” is another song that could only come out the mouth of a country singer. Its lyric talks of how honky tonks are often magnetic dens of temptation, where inebriated couples fool around and also fool themselves into believing they’re not cheating.

Serby, who wrote all these songs, also has a witty way with words. After detailing many past jobs he’s hated during the verses to “Permanent Position“, he finally finds a position he can live with, which is “leaning on one elbow with a beer glass in my hand.” Elsewhere, on “Chasin' You”, he spells out the vanity in chasing after one particular romantic prey by singing, “What are you good for beneath all that pretty hair/ ‘Cept making me feel like a jerk.” Lastly, the title alone to “The Heartache’s On the Other Sleeve” is a winner all by itself.

Much of Serby’s music is sad, in a funny sort of way, and hardly dance floor ready. But the opener, “Get It in Gear” revs things up a bit, and “Go On and Cry”, with its upfront electric guitar, closes the disc on a high powered sonic note.

Honkytonk and Vine will not hit you over the head with a broken beer bottle. This isn’t hell raising music to rival, say, Kid Rock or Eric Church. Serby, instead, hypnotizes you with that silky voice of his to quietly get under your skin. With that said, country radio isn’t all that good about making room for independent artists like Serby. But Serby has the looks of a heartthrob, the voice of a seducer, and the talent to please those looking deeper than the superficial, so let’s cross our fingers he finds a soft place to land on the charts.

http://www.roughstock.com/reviews/david-serby-honkytonk-and-vine - By: Dan MacIntosh