Drew Landry
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Drew Landry

Lafayette, Louisiana, United States | SELF

Lafayette, Louisiana, United States | SELF
Band Americana Rock


This band hasn't logged any future gigs

This band hasn't logged any past gigs



CD REVIEW: Drew Landry and the Dirty Cajuns – Tailgaten Relief and Hurricane Companion EP
By Chip Withrow - 03/04/06 -musesmuse.com

The other day, I was watching a news report about the first Mardi Gras after Hurricane Katrina. The haunting song in the background was a gospel group, maybe the The Blind Boys of Alabama, singing “House of the Rising Sun/Amazing Grace.”

Drew Landry’s “Category Five” deserves a spot alongside that song as a powerful soundtrack for post-Katrina images. With a gravelly voice and an acoustic guitar, Landry tells a story that is both poetic and direct, with this searing message: “Maybe next time all the old and sick and poor won’t have to die.”

This 7-track disc begins with the blistering “Grosbec (Game Warden Song).” I can’t figure out whether it’s a cautionary tale or unapologetic advice to do what you gotta do, but it satisfies my periodic craving for doses of good Southern rock and nasty slide guitar.

At first listen, I didn’t much care for “Tiger Fan” – it sounded too much like a novelty. But after repeated listens, I realize that the sentiment applies to anyone who – like my wife has accused me of being with Ohio State sports – bases his emotional well-being too much on how his favorite team is doing. Plus, the guitar and harmonica interplay rocks, and rhyming “Shaq O’Neal” with “Billy Cannon up and down the football field” is just plain cool.

“Dirty South” and “Land of Dead Giants,” different as they sound, seem like companion pieces, odes to a Cajun country that used to be. The former is a rousing rocker (again, strong lead guitar and blues harp) with the refrain, “Where you been goin to?” The latter, a plaintive guitar-and-fiddle number, is a vivid picture of lost wilderness.

The closing track (well, there is a bonus track, a boozy-sounding singalong that seems to be called “I Can Hear the Jukebox Play”), is well-suited to end this Louisiana-themed song cycle. On “Salt Water Tears,” Landry refers to TV preachers, looters, and the government’s favoring of foreign wars over national safety.

In the notes that accompanied this CD, Landry writes that Tailgaten Relief and Hurricane Companion is “the story of what kept me from putting out a 2005 release.” He adds that this EP might not appeal to people outside of Louisiana, but I disagree. Good songs are good no matter what, and I’m looking forward to the tales he will tell on his 3-CD set due this summer.
- Chip Withrow - 03/04/06 -musesmuse.com

We get CDs from people we don't know all the time, and a cursory listen usually validates their obscurity. Not so in this case. Once through Tailgaten Relief & Hurricane Companion, and we almost felt that we should apologize to Drew Landry for not having heard of him earlier.

Equal parts gritfolk and southern-fried country-rock, Drew Landry and the Dirty Cajuns' latest release is a 7-track, 43-minute EP that collects 8 songs, a few answering machine messages and some sort of field interview a la Alan Lomax.

While Drew and the boys draw the occasional comparison to the Drive-By Truckers--give "Grosbec" a listen [REAL AUDIO CLIP]--don't write them off as imitators. Their admixture of biting social commentary and well-rendered regional vignettes has a distinctly original flavor.

The album has several standout tracks, but we're partial to "Salt Water Tears" [REAL AUDIO CLIP]. These guys deserve a listen. - Cheezeball.net

D.Landry &The Dirty Cajuns “Keep What’s Left” (Self Release 2004) Available: Now. Review by Pete Gow
Man this guy D. Landry has confidence in himself. In fact looking at what dropped through my door for review some might say it is a confidence that borders on malapert arrogance. A CD, with no case, a photocopied strip of paper wrapped around the disc that contains neither the name of the artist, never mind the name of the record. Oh yeah & it has the words to five of the seventeen songs handwritten on the back with a promise that the rest of the lyrics will be posted soon on a website (that appears to be under construction) and ending with the declaration ‘P.S It’s Copyrighted 2004’. It just made me wonder how many times Mr Landry’s record found its way into the bin, before ever getting anywhere near a CD player? ‘Keep What’s Left’ is the equivalent of the Lomax field recordings for the 21st Century. The tracks were, apparently recorded in three days & none of the players got paid. Well I can guess that not much of those three days were spent on mixing, or mastering the tracks. They are a sonic cluster- fuck. I would compare them to the sessions in the 30’s when the work of A.P Carter & his family was committed to acetate for the first time, but I suspect they may have used slightly superior equipment in Bristol. So why am I scoring this so highly? I will tell you why, because it is brilliant. It captures a spirit that will never be replicated in a conventional studio. Landry is a songwriter of essentially country music, but ‘Keep What’s Left’ dips its toe into all manner of blues, old- timey, skiffle and roadhouse variations on the theme. A number of the songs are just Landry and his (increasingly out of tune) guitar, building verses over repetitive guitar figures, his storytelling draws us into a whole cast of cowboys, drinkers, gamblers & fighters… ‘Moe Brown’, ‘the Rodeo clown who works two hundred days of the year’, or the prisoner repenting the murder he committed in Shreveport before they ‘Locked me up & threw away the key in the Angola Penitentiary’. There are also more biographical tales, such as ‘Hub City Blues’ or the enigmatically titled ‘Family Farm’. When the Dirty Cajuns kick in, they really bring some good old-fashioned ass-kicking to the party. Elegantly sloppy (check out the drumming on ‘Whiskey Shot’) this is the a house band that probably takes its pay in Wild Turkey and amphetamines. The guitar solo that leaps out at you in ‘Hub City Blues’ (I don’t think they have heard of compression in Lafayette!) sounds like James Burton on heroin…. but in a good way, while the beautifully monikered ‘Bayouself’ is a guitar & fiddle ballad in which Landry’s voice is all but giving out on him…. When the bottle is empty, it ain’t worth a damn. I’ll drink to that. I’m not going to pretend that over seventeen tracks that this record works every time. But that is kind of the point. It is not really a record. There is no apparent thought gone into the sequencing, it just sounds like the soundtrack to one of those picking parties that Townes Van Zandt & Guy Clark used to hold where the guitar was passed around in the same hand as the Jim Beam. D. Landry has some songs to sing and here they are. He is getting them down before he forgets them. Well I won’t forget them in a hurry. That these recordings made their way out of South Louisiana and to my door in England is an absolute triumph for independent music & underlines my long running argument that the best bands are not always auditioned. It is not easy to get hold of this album, but the rewards will be obvious to anyone who loves music with heart, soul & integrity and, lets face it, not much else. www.pailhorse.com (…. when it is finished) www.milesofmusic.com PG

- americana UK

Sometimes an inspired amateur can achieve an originality that veteran competence forbids. Consider as a case in point the extraordinary debut of D. Landry & the Dirty Cajuns on "keep what's left"(self-released). His coon-ass romps simultaneously extend and rebut the country music of his native southwest Louisiana in the same way that the Pogues' lurching, fast-forward, can't-walk-a-straight-line rambles blasted through the greensward pieties of traditonal Irish music. Counrty, Cajun, Zydeco, Rock & Roll, Landry does them all. "Hounds of Hell", for instance, is a terrific blues tune. You can imagine hearing D. Landry's songs at a (very inlightened) truck stop. The relative homemade quality of the recording is an asset, too, though "low-fi" has become a cheap signifier these days of authenticity
- Oxford American magazine

House of echoes
by Cody Daigle

Tucked inconspicuously near a side entrance of Bourque’s Social Club in Scott is a small, weathered display case. Its purpose: publicly displaying all the required permits necessary to run the establishment.

The case, in essence, is a history lesson. Along with all the permits for the building’s contemporary incarnation, it holds permits from the past 60 or 70 years, curling and browned with age, layered beneath the recent ones like rings on an oak tree.

And tucked in the corner of the case is another little nod to history — a cobalt blue Hadacol bottle.

“You check that out?” Drew Landry, the club’s owner and operator, says as he gestures toward the permits in the case. “They go back a long time.”

Take a casual glance around Bourque’s Social Club, and you’ll find a lot of things that go back a long time. The turn-of-the-century building’s white clapboard walls are chipped and peeling. The floor can creak with age. A peek into the building’s back room reveals an interior staircase to the building’s second floor that reminds one of old Cajun homes along the bayou. And the beautifully detailed wooden bar and backing evoke the memory of black-and-white film westerns.

And the building remains absent of central air. The two overhead ceiling fans and open doors and windows serve the purpose.

In contrast is Drew Landry, a bearded, laid-back guy in his early 30s. Best known locally as a musician, Landry has been at the helm of Bourque’s Social Club for the last three years. Landry is a no-frills kind of guy, seemingly most comfortable in jeans and a T-shirt. There’s nothing superfluous about Landry — he’s reserved, unpretentious and direct.

Yet while he may be short on words, he’s long on enthusiasm. And though his youth may seem out of place among the ghosts that inhabit Bourque’s, Landry is the perfect complement to his surroundings.

Nestled along St. Mary Street in Scott, Bourque’s Social Club is a local institution. The building dates to 1902, and in its first incarnation, the building was known as Bourque’s Bar. The establishment’s namesake, Albert Bourque, fashioned the building as a Western-style saloon, and it was dubbed “an all-men’s bar and a meeting place for old folks.”

Bourque fashioned the building after Western-style saloons because, as history has it, Bourque believed Scott was “where the West begins,” a slogan that remains with the city to this day.

The story-and-a-half structure looks much the same now as it did when it was first built, except the shingle roof has been replaced by tin and the dormer windows have been removed.

The bar took a hiatus in 1918, when it was transformed into a general store due to Prohibition. Once Prohibition was repealed in 1933, Bourque’s Bar was back in business.

When Albert Bourque died in 1960, his two sons, Clovis “Pete” and Wilson “Toot” Bourque, who’d worked with their father in the bar since they were 10 years old, took over the business. And the two bachelor brothers ran the bar until 1976, when it was finally closed for good.

Since the bar’s closure, the building has gone through a series of different identities, most notably the main gallery for local artist Floyd Sonnier.

And now, because of Landry, the building is returning to its roots.

“This is just an old building with a lot of good spirits,” says Landry of Bourque’s. Those spirits are company that Landry seems very glad to keep and, in many ways, they are the reason he was drawn to the building in the first place.

In Landry’s hands, Bourque’s Social Club has become an under-the-radar destination for fans and aficionados of American roots music, specifically the country and blues roots that are firmly entrenched in the area, and the history that has created it.

The venue has housed performances by a host of local musicians (including Michael Doucet, Scott H. Biram, Horace Trahan, Zachary Richard and D.L. Menard), as well as national and regional acts worth noting (including upcoming gigs by Willie Heath Neal and Country Music Hall of Famer Charles Louvin).

The venue even hosted a performance of the Angola Prison band.

But Bourque’s also serves as a gathering place for folklorists and amateur musical old-timers with a love of old songs and the stories of how they were created. Friends and locals show up at Bourque’s regularly to pluck a few tunes on the guitar or swap stories of Scott’s sometimes checkered history. There’s a constant but casual flow of activity through Bourque’s, and everyone seems to leave a little piece of themselves behind.

For Landry, those two elements — music and history — are irreducible partners.
“I think historians tend to put themselves in front of the history,” Landry said. “For me, I think you should just let the history speak for itself. And that’s what I try to do here. Just preserve it, celebrate it.”

When Landry talks about his vision for Bourque’s Social Club, he’s quick to point out that the venue isn’t a bar. In his words, the place is “a listening room,” a venue where the music is king.

“You go to some places to hear music, and people aren’t really listening to it,” Landry said. “What I want this place to be is a place where you really listen to the songs or listen to the stories.”

To that end, the venue doesn’t sell alcohol. And due to Landry’s main gig as a traveling musician, the venue has a sometimes erratic booking schedule, fitting shows in when they’re important enough to do and when Landry is in town to do them.

“That’s kind of kept the place quiet for most people,” Landry said. “We’d do some shows, but then I’d be on the road for a while. But the people who do come here really support what we’re doing. And that’s what I want this place to be about, not just about going out somewhere.”

It’s one of the reasons Landry has resisted doing any aggressive publicity for Bourque’s, relying instead on word of mouth and the network of fans the venue has built over the last few years.

“I’ve been kind of scared to do it, you know,” Landry said. “Because the people that come here now get the place and what it is. For them and for the place, I want to make sure we get people here who respect that.”

For the regulars of Bourque’s Social Club, Landry’s vision has been a success. But there is much more Landry wants to do with the venue, and he’s working toward making those dreams a reality.

Landry is in the process of outfitting the venue with the means to record the performances that come through — in both audio and video formats — for the purpose of creating a musical archive. Landry also plans to use the system to record interviews with musicians, folklorists and Scott locals in an attempt to document the area’s fading history.

“Once these people are gone, the people who grew up speaking only French, the people who lived here all their lives,” Landry said, “they’re gone. Their stories are gone.”

For Landry, the impulse to honor history is a personal one.

“Before my grandmother died, I recorded this interview with her,” Landry said. “I put some of it at the end of my CD. To have that, now that’s she’s gone, is invaluable to me.”

At Bourque’s Social Club, it seems wherever you turn, the present is colliding with the past. While the building retains almost every detail of its turn-of-the-century design, it’s been outfitted with electricity. The wooden bar sits opposite a makeshift stage outfitted with sound equipment. Even Landry’s youth seems to butt heads with the history of the venue he’s developed.

But that collision is commonplace for the people of South Louisiana. Here, the past is always present — in the food, the music, the language, the life. And the collision, as it does in every other circumstance, produces something beautiful.

And if you venture down to Bourque’s Social Club for a show, the collision looks a lot like a two-step, danced to an old-time song your daddy learned growing up, kept in rhythm by the rolling beat of history.

On April 5, Bourque’s Social Club will host a special performance by Charles Louvin, a member of the Country Music Hall of Fame and one half of the famed Louvin Brothers.

Last year, Drew Landry had the opportunity to interview Louvin, and what follows is Landry’s take on meeting Louvin and excerpts from their conversation, which Landry had recorded.

It’s another great example of what happens when the past and the present collide.


Last year I was in Nashville for the Americana Music Conference. I wanted to see what was left of “Country Music, USA.”

Between the cover bands and karaoke, the tourist traps and billboards, there’s still a contingency of faithful classic country musicians and fans waiting for the second coming.

The first original song I heard was by a street performer who claimed the place had been “bum-barded.” He said, “I use to make a pretty good livin’ in this town.” Heeding his warning, I made my way up Broadway past Ernest Tubb Records and hung a left toward the Country Music Hall of Fame. Glen Campbell was playing a free show there, but I ran into Charlie Louvin and never made it to see the Rhinestone Cowboy.

The Louvin Brothers (Charlie and Ira) helped popularize the two-part vocal harmonies that became a staple of American music. The duo had 12 hits on the Billboard Country Charts between 1955 and 1962. Gram Parsons, Emmylou Harris, Uncle Tupelo, George Jones, the Byrds and countless other artists have covered their songs and imitated their style. Even after his brother’s death, Charlie never quit playing. He is a walking piece of history, a member of the Grand Old Opry and a staple at the Country Music Hall of Fame.

I took off with Charlie’s crew for lunch and happened to have a voice recorder in my guitar case. He agreed to help with my Nashville education over a box of fried chicken.

Here’s some of what he had to say:

Drew Landry: How did your journey begin?

Charlie Louvin: We started off with what they call folk music today. Knoxville Girl, Mary of the Wild Moor, I’ll Be All Smiles Tonight, and those kinds of songs. We weren’t beggars, and never did work churches like most gospel groups. And they thought we were a carnival act because we played stringed instruments.

DL: What about your first recording contract?

CL: Ira and I got our first decent recording contract with Capitol the first of ‘52. The label agreed to sign us as a gospel duo because they already had a secular duet by the name of Jim and Jesse (who got their deal by singing a Louvin Brothers song). We had a hell of a time getting on the Opry and still believed we had songs that wouldn’t insult God-fearing people. So we took a chance with When I Stop Dreaming and it opened up the world for us.

DL: What was the risk?

CL: If the gospel fans would have stopped buying records because we recorded secular music, the label would have dropped us. But we did what we knew how to do, what we started out as, and never changed. When Ira and I were together, we were the hottest duo in the country.

DL: So what happened to the Louvin Brothers?

CL: Ira was a drinker and I couldn’t deal with a drinker. I told the label I’d like to try to do it on my own and I Don’t Love You Anymore did very good as my first release. I never got rich, but my wife managed to raise three good kids while I was on the road.

“My brother’s gift was professing the word of the Lord.” Charlie paused, “He went down the wrong path and paid the price.” (Ironically, Ira Louvin was sober on June 20, 1965 when a drunk driver took his life.)

DL: How is country music different today?

CL: It’s generic. Hell, if the jockey don’t tell me who’s singing I could guess 10 times and be wrong 10 times. There’s a whole flock of them that sound the same. If you got a style that works for you, stick to what you’re doing.

DL: How do major labels work now?

CL: A label will record eight artists. If one makes ‘em money they’ll kick the other seven off and get ‘em eight more. There’s so many people like Dolly Parton, Loretta Lynn, and Merle Haggard that made the label tens of millions of dollars, but when you get up to 45 years old they drop you. You ain’t supposed to be able to sing anymore. That’s not what I hear from out in radio land.

DL: How do you put out recordings now?

CL: I guess you call it a small or independent label, but we have distribution. Now I’m working to the great- grandchildren of folks that first bought our records.

Then I realized Charlie, the street performer and I were fighting the same battle. At 81, Mr. Louvin is one of those rare people who will never waver. If music is your calling, you have to get out there and play for whoever will listen. Sure, it’s great to make money, but there’s nothing better than finding someone your songs have made a difference to.

Last thing Charlie said to me was, “If I got anything for you, I want to give it to you while you can still see it, smell it, and touch it. The s--- that I stack on your grave don’t mean nothing.

“The old song, ‘Give me the roses while I live, that which cheer me on. But useless are flowers that you give after the soul is gone,’ people should remember that. If you got something for somebody else that would make life easier or just make ’em happy, give it to ’em while they can remember that you did it. ’Cause when they’re gone, they’re gone.”

Over the years, many have predicted the demise of country music. Ira wasn’t too fond of Elvis, but even the King’s mother loved the Louvin Brothers. When The Silver Fox burned John Denver’s Entertainer of the Year envelope in 1975, he wasn’t just drunk, he felt the music he helped create was heading for hell. Even today country purists consider Garth Brooks the Anti-Christ.

Either way, talking with someone truly authentic then stepping out of the Country Music Hall of Fame to see a Billboard of The Honky Tonk Ba-donk-a-donk is like walking into a bar with 27 different kinds of light beer when you just need a shot of whiskey.

If there is hope for the future of country music, it lies in learning from the lessons of the past.

— Drew Landry - Times of Acadiana

Still Standin
By Nick Pittman

Probably because of the way the story ends, Drew Landry doesn’t often brag about how Kris Kristofferson called him the best songwriter he’s heard in 30 years. Landry impressed the legend by playing him his “Last Man Standin” backstage at a Kristofferson concert. Afterwards, Kristofferson called him out, repeating his praise to the crowd. The only problem was Landry missed the whole thing because he was in the bathroom.

“I figured that would be one of those things in life that would be a real cool confidence builder nobody ever knows about,” says Landry. “It’s just like, well, this is what I’m supposed to be doing.”

The incident is par for Landry’s course: incredible luck coupled with unstoppable hustle. In grass roots marketing terms, Landry is a weed—ever-present and relentless in his efforts to get his music into the right hands. He’s hobbled around Austin on crutches during SXSW and mailed CDs to anyone with an address, and he has seen the results. His Tailgaten Relief & Hurricane Companion and this year’s Sharecropper’s Whine landed on the Euro-Americana Chart. However, Landry’s appeal is more than just hustle. Landry is a legit old school balladeer who weaves down home and ultra honest songs (even if they are completely fictional). Part good ole boy, part conspiracy-minded, politically incorrect pundit, he draws comparisons to Bob Dylan, Townes Van Zandt and Woody Guthrie. Though he sounds like he just ate a large, greasy meal and washed it down with a whiskey soaked night on the town, his slightly nasal voice has its own unique appeal. Landry spent the summer in Los Angeles, playing the Roxy and the Mint as he worked with a manager in hopes of getting a distribution deal for the October re-release of Sharecropper’s Whine.

“For me it’s just getting out of Louisiana, getting out of your comfort zone, trying to reach more people,” says Landry. “There is always somebody you haven’t met and something else you can do. I’m doing what I can.”

The record features 20-plus friends and incredible musicians, including Anthony Dopsie, members of the Red Stick Ramblers and Andrew Duplantis of Son Volt. “Last Man Standin” is definitely the album’s gem. In it, Landry’s politics come into their own. Landry regretfully croons, “If Jesus were alive, I bet we’d string him up just like we were the Romans. / Instead we’re going to use his name to justify a fight across the ocean.”

The song’s title is also the name of Josh Hyde’s documentary about Landry’s struggle for stardom. As Hyde follows Landry, the songwriter hits the road and gets tossed a record deal from Memphis International—a deal he rejects because it offered a 15 percent return.

“The movie is about making it, what does it mean to make it,” Landry says. “It’s funny because [Hyde] showed it to some people up north and they were like, ‘This dude didn’t make it because he wasn’t on American Idol.’ I showed it to people down here; they were like, ‘Dude, you finally made it.’ I guess it’s all relative. It’s one thing to write songs. It’s another thing to record them and get them sounding the way you want with the right musicians. If that makes money or not, that is a completely different thing. I don’t know. I’m pretty happy with where I am.”

OffBeat, Inc. | offbeat@offbeat.com
Site Designed by dzign@datatv.com - Offbeat Magazine/ Nick Pittman

Drew Landry's "BandryLand: Sharecropper's Whine" is a Cajun-influenced Americana masterwork that vividly illustrates the unadulterated passion of an authentic Southwest Louisiana country boy and storyteller who won't let rough times or hardships (like Hurricane Katrina) get in the way of his music. It's a good thing, because Drew Landry's "BandryLand: Sharecropper's Whine" is a personal and sometimes heart-wrenching mix of interesting, original tracks about politics, hard life choices and tough economic times.

The favorite memory of Drew Landry's musical career is when he played the Angola Prison Rodeo with the prison band. After the performance, Landry promised his new friends that he would get them out of jail someday. To the surprise of the prisoners in the band, Drew Landry made good on the promise, and the Angola warden allowed the band to play with Landry at a fundraiser held in his hometown of Scott, Louisiana.

"BandryLand: Sharecropper's Whine" is Drew Landry's third studio album. This project also serves as the soundtrack for a documentary film about Landry's life titled "Last Man Standin: The Drew Landry Story" from filmmaker Josh Hyde. Landry's song "Last Man Standin" on the album is a deeply personal, autobiographical cut that fuses Landry's Cajun heritage with certain elements that are reminiscent of both Tracy Chapman's hit single "Fast Car" and tracks from Chris Knight's album, "The Trailer Tapes."

Drew Landry is at his best with sparse instrumental backing combined with his brilliantly authentic voice and razor sharp lyrics. The track "Strength Of A Song" is one of the finest songs on the album and offers a compelling message about the power of music. Also, more upbeat songs, like the track "Sharecropper's Wine" and "Gone Home," are amazing examples of his musical artistry that blend elements of Texas country with his Louisiana heritage.

However, the best song on the album is "Juvenile Delinquent," an almost Dylanesque performance with stripped down instrumentation and an earnest vocal by Landry. The elements of "Juvenile Delinquent" all work together to create an Americana work of art. This cut is a carefully paced story that builds into a crescendo. Indeed, "Juvenile Delinquent" features Landry in top form and vividly illustrates why any music lover needs to know about Drew Landry.

The album "BandryLand: Sharecropper's Whine" is a landmark Cajun-inspired recording with gritty vocals, accomplished guitar work and subtle, but piercing, lyrics. But the power of this album is largely derived from Drew Landry's obvious purity of heart and eager intensity which permeates every note. No, Drew Landry's "BandryLand: Sharecropper's Whine" is not a good album. It's great. CountryChart.com - countrychart.com


Bandryland Bootleg - 2001 self release
Keep What's Left - w/ the Dirty Cajuns - 2004 self release
Tailgaten Relief & Hurricane Companion Ep - 2006 self release
"Carry My Cross" is on The GAA Volume 6
"BP Blues" Single - 2010 Warner Bros
Sharecropper's Whine - Nov 22, 2011 self release

*getting radio play on AAA, NPR, & Webradio stations in the US & throughout Europe



Drew Landry landed his first gig as a roadie on a Scott Biram/Hank III tour. Since Williams asked him to open that show Landry has shared the stage with Billy Joe Shaver, The Angola State Prison Band, Lazy Lester, David Allen Coe, Charlie Louvin, Dwight Yoakam, Cross Canadian Ragweed, Doug Kershaw, Johnny Winter and countless others.

Landry's first album "Keep What's Left" was called "The Equivalent to Lomax's field recordings for the 21st Century". The sophomore effort, "Tailgaten Relief" was featured as live nations "Ones to Watch". Bandryland or the "Drew Landry Band" is a group of over 20 South Louisiana musicians who helped Landry record this album. Sharecropper's Whine was to be the soundtrack for the unreleased documentary film "Last Man Standin". Advance copies of this album had already charted when the project's untimely delay kept Landry's music from reaching his fans.

Without the resources to get his songs to a national audience, Landry walked away from music and found redemption in the swamps of his native South Louisiana by helping coastal citizens deal with the BP disaster.

Kris Kristofferson was quoted as saying Landry's State of the Union Address/folk song, "Last Man Standin" is the "best he's heard in 30 years". Landry's singing testimony to the Presidential Oil Spill commission would bring his music back to the limelight and lead to a deal with Warner Bros. Their Charity single "BP Blues" gave money to coastal citizens with spill related health issues. He joined forces with Dr. John and many other artists to finish the Deepwater "Memorial EP" and continues to work on the Bobby Charles inspired "Solution to Pollution" Project.

Finally, the cult classic will hit itunes thanksgiving week 2011 with 3 bonus tracks. The album not only takes a hard look at where Landry comes from, but where the proverbial snowball headed for hell might take us all. Although this release has been delayed more times than the new Iphone, Sharecropper's Whine deserves a listen and we are proud it will finally see the light of day. Copies will be available on his Gulf Coast Tour starting Thanksgiving week & in record stores the first week of January 2012.