RESTAVRANT

No, there’s not typos in that title.

I once had a friend who named his dog “Brad”. When I asked him why the name “Brad”, he told me because it was the last possible name anyone would ever give a dog. I don’t know if that is the methodology behind the deep blues band Restavrant, or the title of their latest album, Yeah, I Carve Cheetahs, with it’s conversative, almost plaintive tone. But just like Smuckers jelly, don’t worry about the funny name, just shut up and enjoy. And once you experience the wanton, undefinable, and downright violent approach of this band, you will agree only weirdness would serve to define them.

The Restavrant experience goes something like this:

Push play.
Get your face melted square off your head.
What to call this music? Hell I don’t know. Rootsy garage punk swampy blues rock country…or something. In fact don’t even worry about that crap, just listen to the music. I’ll start off with a word of caution though. I have many positive things to say about this album. One of them is not it’s accessibility. There is nothing mainstream here. What Restravant serves is the manna, the core, the meat of what exists in the “deep blues” underground roots movement that generally blends north Mississippi Hill Country blues with a punk attitude. Nobody may embody this approach with as much abandon as Restavrant. This album is really for the “core” of that fandom, but even from the outside looking in, with a open mind and a true appreciation for music of any kind, you too can be infected by the groove and energy that Restavrant brings.

This music comes at you like some crazy berserker dude kicking and swinging nun chucks, or a rooster with razor blades tied to its talons flying at your head. You may not exactly know what’s going on at first, but it certainly will get your heart pumping. Restavrant doesn’t play music for you, they beat you over the head with it. A two piece setup of screaming wierdo dudes originally from Victoria, TX, one armed with a gut-bending guitar and slide, and the other with common truck stop parking lot refuse that he wails on to create audible percussive-like noises. I’m pretty sure their form of expression is considered assault in certain countries. But for those with the right ear and disposition, it hurts so good.

Restavrant strips it all back. All of it. The guitar work, singing, and lyrics have their moments of impressive flourishes, but they’re careful to not be too good, because with this music, it would take away from the experience as a whole. What is important is the energy and groove. This isn’t music you hear, this is music you feel. They rhythms and groove are infectious enough to call tantric. Restavrant’s music works like a cluster of concentric circles, where it comes around and around, and the tension and resolution and anticipation create a dizzying, whirlwind, whirling dervish trance-like effect with the purpose of making the human Will submit to the rhythm and message.

With songs like “Yeah, I Guess”, my personal favorite “Bev D.”, and the epic “Watch Me Drive” with it’s great message, it is hard to not submit to what Troy Murrah and Bev. D of Restavrant are throwing down, however silly it makes you feel or act as you bang your head listening in rush hour traffic, or bounce up and down in your living when nobody’s watching.

One concern I have is that since Restavrant is such a visceral experience, the song’s effectiveness depends a lot on your personal experiences, so some of the songs could be like a joke you don’t get, even when you do get the band in general. My favs from this album may be completely different from someone else’s. And I know this music is supposed to come across as dirty and distorted, but I really feel like just slightly more attention to the production quality, clarifying some of the sounds, making the bass more thumping may elevate the Restavrant experience that much more.

But aside from a few very minor squabbles I have with - The Triggerman, SavingCountryMusic.com

No, there’s not typos in that title.

I once had a friend who named his dog “Brad”. When I asked him why the name “Brad”, he told me because it was the last possible name anyone would ever give a dog. I don’t know if that is the methodology behind the deep blues band Restavrant, or the title of their latest album, Yeah, I Carve Cheetahs, with it’s conversative, almost plaintive tone. But just like Smuckers jelly, don’t worry about the funny name, just shut up and enjoy. And once you experience the wanton, undefinable, and downright violent approach of this band, you will agree only weirdness would serve to define them.

The Restavrant experience goes something like this:

Push play.
Get your face melted square off your head.
What to call this music? Hell I don’t know. Rootsy garage punk swampy blues rock country…or something. In fact don’t even worry about that crap, just listen to the music. I’ll start off with a word of caution though. I have many positive things to say about this album. One of them is not it’s accessibility. There is nothing mainstream here. What Restravant serves is the manna, the core, the meat of what exists in the “deep blues” underground roots movement that generally blends north Mississippi Hill Country blues with a punk attitude. Nobody may embody this approach with as much abandon as Restavrant. This album is really for the “core” of that fandom, but even from the outside looking in, with a open mind and a true appreciation for music of any kind, you too can be infected by the groove and energy that Restavrant brings.

This music comes at you like some crazy berserker dude kicking and swinging nun chucks, or a rooster with razor blades tied to its talons flying at your head. You may not exactly know what’s going on at first, but it certainly will get your heart pumping. Restavrant doesn’t play music for you, they beat you over the head with it. A two piece setup of screaming wierdo dudes originally from Victoria, TX, one armed with a gut-bending guitar and slide, and the other with common truck stop parking lot refuse that he wails on to create audible percussive-like noises. I’m pretty sure their form of expression is considered assault in certain countries. But for those with the right ear and disposition, it hurts so good.

Restavrant strips it all back. All of it. The guitar work, singing, and lyrics have their moments of impressive flourishes, but they’re careful to not be too good, because with this music, it would take away from the experience as a whole. What is important is the energy and groove. This isn’t music you hear, this is music you feel. They rhythms and groove are infectious enough to call tantric. Restavrant’s music works like a cluster of concentric circles, where it comes around and around, and the tension and resolution and anticipation create a dizzying, whirlwind, whirling dervish trance-like effect with the purpose of making the human Will submit to the rhythm and message.

With songs like “Yeah, I Guess”, my personal favorite “Bev D.”, and the epic “Watch Me Drive” with it’s great message, it is hard to not submit to what Troy Murrah and Bev. D of Restavrant are throwing down, however silly it makes you feel or act as you bang your head listening in rush hour traffic, or bounce up and down in your living when nobody’s watching.

One concern I have is that since Restavrant is such a visceral experience, the song’s effectiveness depends a lot on your personal experiences, so some of the songs could be like a joke you don’t get, even when you do get the band in general. My favs from this album may be completely different from someone else’s. And I know this music is supposed to come across as dirty and distorted, but I really feel like just slightly more attention to the production quality, clarifying some of the sounds, making the bass more thumping may elevate the Restavrant experience that much more.

But aside from a few very minor squabbles I have with - The Triggerman, SavingCountryMusic.com

Los Angeles-based roots rock and electro trash duo Restavrant have created a visionary and positively indiosyncratic sound which involves both sides of the musical coin, so to speak. With bluesy slide guitar and countrified pickin', gritty megaphone vocal delivery, harmonica, the layers provided by loop station programming, the catchy electric vibe of a keyboard, and the clank, tap and stomp of a junkyard drum kit, these two churn out something that is equal parts organic and mechanical, and equal parts rustic and urban. In nearly every way this is a combo that should not work, but somehow it does. It works remarkably well, in fact; so much so that Restavrant are now preparing to release the follow-up to their well-received 2008 debut Returns to the Tomb of Guiliano Medidici, at last. The upcoming album is titled Yeah, I Carve Cheetahs, of all things, and it is slated for a January 10, 2012 release from Hillgrass Bluebilly Records.

Yeah, I Carve Cheetahs finds Restavrant's Troy Murrah and J State in the process of honing their highly experimental songcrafting even further, and thus surpassing the astonishing musical feats of their debut. Cheetahs has a bit more six-string fury and trashed-up energy, some stronger rhythms and bolder riffs, harder hitting beats, and increasingly intricate song structures in general than Returns. Out of the album's twelve tracks, there are a few that I particularly appreciate, like "Six Years," "Fight Myself," "Bev D," the title track "Yeah, I Carve Cheetahs," "Oakley Shades," and "Lie o' My Life." And of course there is the one cover song on the album, CCR's "Bad Moon Rising," a much covered tune, to be sure, but it is likely the most peculiar and daring version to date.

In Hillgrass Bluebilly Records' press release on the album, they state that they are proud to "...unleash Restavrant's second full length album Yeah, I Carve Cheetahsfor guaranteed heavy rotation on your various listening devices." That was quite a prophetic statement; after all, the album has been in my player for the better part of two weeks, with only brief deviations to sample other newly acquired albums. But I keep returning to it, just as I imagine all of you who obtain copies of your own undoubtedly will.

Though they are currently residing in Los Angeles, California, Troy Murrah (guitar, banjo, harp, vocals) and J State (junk kit, other percussion, microKorg, and back-up vocals) hail from Victoria, Texas. Both locales are represented in Restavrant's music in all of their differing points, from the Crossroads country and blues of Victoria to the melting pot music of Los Angeles. They have also played a number of gigs in both cities, and their wild sets, invariably followed by vigorous applause, have been highly appreciated by both audiences. And their albums, the content of which being all too similar to their live material, have also been met with the same level of appreciation.

Restavrant's Yeah, I Carve Cheetahsis one of those rare follow-up albums that I find better than the one that came before it. And I, as a big fan of this duo, can only hope that this trend continues for future releases.

Incidentally, the boys have a handful of upcoming shows in support of Cheetahs. Most of the shows, to the disappointment of those fans who reside here on the east coast, are in the west. At a couple of the January shows, Restavrant will be sharing the bill with the side project of J.D. Wilkes of Th' Legendary Shack Shakers, The Dirt Daubers, and the Two Man Gentleman Band. - James G. Carlson, No Depression

Los Angeles-based roots rock and electro trash duo Restavrant have created a visionary and positively indiosyncratic sound which involves both sides of the musical coin, so to speak. With bluesy slide guitar and countrified pickin', gritty megaphone vocal delivery, harmonica, the layers provided by loop station programming, the catchy electric vibe of a keyboard, and the clank, tap and stomp of a junkyard drum kit, these two churn out something that is equal parts organic and mechanical, and equal parts rustic and urban. In nearly every way this is a combo that should not work, but somehow it does. It works remarkably well, in fact; so much so that Restavrant are now preparing to release the follow-up to their well-received 2008 debut Returns to the Tomb of Guiliano Medidici, at last. The upcoming album is titled Yeah, I Carve Cheetahs, of all things, and it is slated for a January 10, 2012 release from Hillgrass Bluebilly Records.

Yeah, I Carve Cheetahs finds Restavrant's Troy Murrah and J State in the process of honing their highly experimental songcrafting even further, and thus surpassing the astonishing musical feats of their debut. Cheetahs has a bit more six-string fury and trashed-up energy, some stronger rhythms and bolder riffs, harder hitting beats, and increasingly intricate song structures in general than Returns. Out of the album's twelve tracks, there are a few that I particularly appreciate, like "Six Years," "Fight Myself," "Bev D," the title track "Yeah, I Carve Cheetahs," "Oakley Shades," and "Lie o' My Life." And of course there is the one cover song on the album, CCR's "Bad Moon Rising," a much covered tune, to be sure, but it is likely the most peculiar and daring version to date.

In Hillgrass Bluebilly Records' press release on the album, they state that they are proud to "...unleash Restavrant's second full length album Yeah, I Carve Cheetahsfor guaranteed heavy rotation on your various listening devices." That was quite a prophetic statement; after all, the album has been in my player for the better part of two weeks, with only brief deviations to sample other newly acquired albums. But I keep returning to it, just as I imagine all of you who obtain copies of your own undoubtedly will.

Though they are currently residing in Los Angeles, California, Troy Murrah (guitar, banjo, harp, vocals) and J State (junk kit, other percussion, microKorg, and back-up vocals) hail from Victoria, Texas. Both locales are represented in Restavrant's music in all of their differing points, from the Crossroads country and blues of Victoria to the melting pot music of Los Angeles. They have also played a number of gigs in both cities, and their wild sets, invariably followed by vigorous applause, have been highly appreciated by both audiences. And their albums, the content of which being all too similar to their live material, have also been met with the same level of appreciation.

Restavrant's Yeah, I Carve Cheetahsis one of those rare follow-up albums that I find better than the one that came before it. And I, as a big fan of this duo, can only hope that this trend continues for future releases.

Incidentally, the boys have a handful of upcoming shows in support of Cheetahs. Most of the shows, to the disappointment of those fans who reside here on the east coast, are in the west. At a couple of the January shows, Restavrant will be sharing the bill with the side project of J.D. Wilkes of Th' Legendary Shack Shakers, The Dirt Daubers, and the Two Man Gentleman Band. - James G. Carlson, No Depression

The Best Bands in the US(LA) profiles some of the best bands/musicians in the underrated LA music scene, which many (including myself) contend is the best in America.

Whenever I hear or see Restavrant -- the LA-based electro/rock/punk/country/blues duo from Victoria, Texas -- the same thing always goes through my head: if the White Stripes can be one of the biggest bands in the world, these guys certainly deserve to make a living playing music. (Listen to Restavrant here while you read.)

Restavrant (pronounced restaurant) consists of Troy Murrah (vocals, guitar, slide, banjo) and J. State (drums, vocals, drum machine, keys). After seeing one of their shows, I told an uninitiated friend that Restavrant sounds like a tornado ripping through a Texas town whose main industries are chainsaws, electronics repair, scrap metal, beer and sidewinder missiles. - Jonathan Kim, Huffington Post

The Best Bands in the US(LA) profiles some of the best bands/musicians in the underrated LA music scene, which many (including myself) contend is the best in America.

Whenever I hear or see Restavrant -- the LA-based electro/rock/punk/country/blues duo from Victoria, Texas -- the same thing always goes through my head: if the White Stripes can be one of the biggest bands in the world, these guys certainly deserve to make a living playing music. (Listen to Restavrant here while you read.)

Restavrant (pronounced restaurant) consists of Troy Murrah (vocals, guitar, slide, banjo) and J. State (drums, vocals, drum machine, keys). After seeing one of their shows, I told an uninitiated friend that Restavrant sounds like a tornado ripping through a Texas town whose main industries are chainsaws, electronics repair, scrap metal, beer and sidewinder missiles. - Jonathan Kim, Huffington Post