The Quick & Easy Boys Red Light Rabbit

Oregon-bred rockers, The Quick & Easy Boys, are stewing a thick sound of country soul and retro rock on their latest sophomore album, Red Light Rabbit.  In some other form of existence, they must have lived in the deep folds of the South, amidst bar dances and everything fried, knighted with honey-style blues.  Or listened to as much groove-induced rock until their handbag mustaches grew to fit their era of choice.     

The trio, comprised of Jimmy Russell (guitar), Sean Badders (bass), and Michael Goetz (drums), pack the 11-track record with gumbo funk and dance-hopping tunes, starting with their first single, Take Your Medicine. This rollicking hipster tune, remindful of indie-rock folk-sceners, Modest Mouse, is their turn at faded love.  It’s a quirky spin on the usual, pitying-male-that-can’t rebound-from-heartbreak song.  Vocalist Russell hones a Barry Gibb falsetto to recommend prescription-popping as the antidotal quick fix.    

The majority of the album comprises of  quick commands and stories of relationship crumbles, with the three-piece band in tow to shuffle the mending process along.  So contradictory is it with fast-paced to easy-driving tracks, but why can’t we celebrate the good and dance out the pain?  

The 2 standouts, Foster I and Daggers are polar opposites in speed, sound, and vocal registry.  Foster I is literally a hare-paced track about nighttime girls ready for the next gig, with staccato yips conversing with a drilling, un-caged drum section and banshee guitar raking.  Daggers is a simmering grind of solo guitar fixtures and echo dubs.    

The Santana-soaked, Funkadelic hybrid, 7 Ways, grabs with a feisty salsa rhythm and walking bass. “There’s seven ways/ seven days/ oh, get on down,” Russell churns.      

Nevertheless, there are times when the collective sound of the band gets drowned by too much influence and little originality, with moments of teetering, jokester antics (Spicy Paella).  The  genre menagerie makes the album an interesting listen, but chagrin for comparing. 

But if the album is homage to the greats, I suggest adoption papers for the Portland triune.  Red Light Rabbit keeps it spiced, brewing and definitely slow-cooked.