Austin Sound

Here’s something weird: The Happen-Ins aren’t doing anything remotely new or innovative on their self titled debut album, yet somehow they seem like a fun fresh breath of air. Maybe it’s because the album features instructions for “things to consider before, during, and after listening to this record” – and those things, in the end, will apparently and assuredly result in “palpitations, perspirations, and motivations to stomp the floor”. Maybe it’s because The Happen-Ins just sound like they’re having fun playing old school rock and roll. Or maybe it’s because, along with having a sense of humor, swagger, and melody, The Happen-Ins play the music your parents (or, shit, grandparents in some of your cases) might have loved, but they don’t sound worn out like the grooves on a dusty old Creedence record. Their debut affair practically bursts from the speakers, with exuberance that is all too often missing from their peers’ recordings.

The Happen-Ins self proclaimed list of influences includes The Flying Burrito Brothers, Crazy Horse, The Rolling Stones, The Band, and more. And apparently the band is beyond self-aware. Across their debut 12 songs, The Happen-Ins repeatedly meet their influences half way, all of the time - and all the way, half the time. By not over thinking the boogieing grooves of those bands, The Happen-Ins lock into a classic bluesy stomp on tracks like “Never Said”, “Just The Way It Always Was”, and “Cross Your Heart”. The rhythm section’s ability to keep it simple with Falcon Valdez’s straight ahead timeless beats and rollicking bass lines (by both Ricky Ray Jackson and John Michael Dayspring) allows guitarists/vocalists Sean Faires and the aforementioned John Michael to really shine.

All four guys provide vocals, often harmonizing together over the slower tunes; On “You’ve Been Bad”, one of the countrified songs that crosses the Burrito Bros and Beggar’s Banquet-era Stones, the band strikes gold with gorgeously lonesome vocals and Jackon’s perfect pedal steel fills. These moments of tired gold, again echoed on the Gram Parsons-perfect “Don’t Look Back”, reverberate to a time when rock and roll bands played standards and originals, side by side, to rooms with creaky floors. Without the overproduction listeners have become so used to – choral arrangements, bassoon solos, gratuitous Moog and mellotron usage – we’re forced to confront the fact that a good solid band can reward audiences with a tight blend of swaggering rock and dusty country licks.

As expected, an album of original songs sounding like calls from an era long gone and often found only in the vinyl bins at garage sales is an album that’ll elate few while offending even fewer. Completely solid, thoroughly entertaining, and beyond enjoyable, The Happen-Ins debut is missing the slight hook to push it from the background to the foreground. The band has crafted an album that is perfectly suited for late night whiskey and beer binges, early morning bloody marys, back yard barbecuing or cross country drives at sunsets. Like their heroes before them, The Happen-Ins let their guitars and songs speak for themselves; it’s hard to imagine the band glamorizing the rock and roll lifestyle as more than a fun, sweaty, and loud time. Here’s to hoping that instead of just letting the guitars and songs speak in the future, The Happen-Ins let them roar.

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