NEW HORZONS
It was the gamble that paid dividends. Back in 2011, three despondent musicians in their thirties – an angry metalhead from the sticks in Wisconsin, a shy, Clapton-loving guitarist from Pennsylvania and a gig-hungry keyboard player from upstate New York – met in Los Angeles and decided to start a blues-rock band.
The angry metalhead (Chris Vos) became the frontman, the guitarist (Alex Stiff) became the bassist, and the keyboard player (Marc Cazorla) became the drummer. Together they were The Record Company, and they played rock’n’roll, spliced with the primal hoodoo of John Lee Hooker, Muddy Waters and the Rolling Stones. Tracks were recorded in Stiff’s living room. They all wore black. They didn’t care one bit about being ‘cool’.
It shouldn’t have worked, but it did. Two acclaimed albums, support gigs at uber-venues like Madison Square Garden and a Grammy nomination ensued. Blues rock seemed to have defined them.
Except, in truth, it doesn’t. It never has. The Record Company are no homogenous, blues-purist unit. Between the three of them they’ve tried to break out in Nashville, written for hip-hop artists in California and played “fucked up” experimental sets in Milwaukee. Jam bands. Sludge metal. Electronica. No covers. Always living – or, more often, dying – by their own music.
Ten years on, it was time to step out of the blues-rock trio
