I caught the D.B. Bryant Band at House of Blues during Bike Week.  If you like hard charging, Southern Rock, then your life has no meaning until you see D.B. live.  D.B. ripped into action and in no time his white hot licks had shredded the faces off every drunk Redneck in the front row.  D.B. never looked down at his fretboard as he melted the crowd with lightning fast chops that seared the denim into the skin of each victim who was close enough to be exposed to the sonic blast issuing from D.B.’s Marshall amps.  After the fourth song, the entire floor was just a slick mess of molten denim, leather, and cowboy hats.  When I die, I want to be cremated by one of D.B.’s riffs.  Just place my lifeless body in front of D.B’s amp, and in less than a second I will be reduced to a steaming pile of ashes.

db1


 
I’ve heard a lot of guitar players and I’ve seen a lot of guitars players but I’ve never seen or heard one like D.B.  He ruled his Strat with an iron pick and he never quit bringing it. Along with the life-altering riffs, D.B. did a great job of slinging lyrics and his band was excellent too.  He even played The Bud Song, whereby he uses an empty Bud bottle to play the notes on his Strat thereby proving that even if you cut his hands off and poked his eyes out he’d still play guitar a thousand times better than you ever could, so just shut up and listen!

db2


 
What I’m saying, you dense idiot, is that you need to get off your sofa and get your ass in gear and go see D.B. so that when you die at least you’ll have done one thing right, one thing worth remembering.
 
 With all the bullshit our country has been through thanks to our bullshit government, it’s nice to see that something is still made in America, something nobody else in the world does better, and that’s down-home, gritty, soul-charging rock baby!!!
 
D.B. Bryant:  Made in America, playing with pride.  If you don’t like it, kiss my ass.

Ready to have your face shredded? Visit the band's site: www.dbbryant.com

Return Home

E-mail me