Stevie Tombstone
Slow Drunken Waltz
(Farmageddon)
The wine bottle really never empties when Elle is around. I must praise her for introducing me to the wine maker that produced such a delicate taste with a whopping punch.
Wait. I keep forgetting that it is wine that I helped bottle while traveling about in France . Damn, I’m pretty good at making this stuff. Alas, we have been drinking it the last three day here at the beach. I have enjoyed it, but upon my return home there will be no more. It will be time to hit the hardcore beginning of the year diet sans wine and Carl’s Jr.
Until then, I have no problem dancing in this empty dive with a gorgeous woman who seems to make all time stop when I’m with her. It really wouldn’t surprise me if she was a time traveler. Not that I’m in “love” with Elle—you can’t be, but that’s another story.
Seems like the couple of days at the beach lasted a little longer. Santa has come and gone. Though it’s cold weather, we’ve quite enjoyed ourselves and the pleasant silence at the abandoned beach. It’s been late night outings and sleep-in mornings. I better enjoy it now because things like this won’t last long.
This third night was our last at the beach; Elle was going to take off to her next stop while in the states. So there we were, another late night in a beach dive, both having too much wine and closely dancing to the wailing jukebox—one of the best ways to spend a night in my opinion. And since it was Stevie Tombstone and since we were both gracing the dance floor with our belt buckle rubbing waltz, we felt right at home…
Slow Drunken Waltz is the first solo release from Stevie Tombstone in eight years. And wisely, in those eight years, he has delivered us a nine track EP of really good music available on the Farmageddon label.. During that time, Stevie has created beautiful and simple moving pieces of Americana / underground roots music that is—well, simply beautiful. Time and intelligence in songwriting were deeply rooted into the soul of these songs, which is why there really isn’t a bad song on this release.
Using the bare essentials and no fluff, Tombstone strips down to minimal instrumentation which speaks in volumes and with a prominent rich tone. His subtlety in instrumentation focuses on Tombstone ’s solid vocals and reflective lyrics providing the canvas to paint his music in a sincere, modern day American Gothic.
As mentioned previously, there’s really not a bad track on Slow Drunken Waltz. Any song can be a favorite; that’s the beauty of this EP and there is something for everyone. But what is a review without mentioning a song or two? Don’t Know What I’m Gonna Do is easily a popular song and a memorable one at that. With its upbeat (but not too) tempo, musically it is a beautifully layered tune underneath his rich vocals. The title track, Slow Drunken Waltz, is much more subtle and nocturnal in its low, solemn tempo. It has that middle-of-the-night, bottom-of-the-bottle tale of life that everyone can relate to. Why it works, like the other track on this release, is because it has that dark side to it, which is one of the key ingredients when it come to a country flavored tale.
What makes Slow Drunken Waltz such a success is simple. It was made with sincerity and emotion. It is heartfelt and the vocals ring familiar to listening ears. Not to mention the man that created these songs is a talent. Good music doesn’t just grow on trees. It has to be crafted from someone that knows a thing or two about music.
Damn good music at that.
After our late night of gracing the dance floor with our slow movin’ waltz, I figured Elle would be ready to retire to the cabin and enjoy the few hours of sleep we would share. Of course, I was wrong about that as usual; one can never be sure of what she would do or not.
As we let the dive, Elle had the idea of adding to her collection of tattoos from this adventure of ours, much like she did the first time we were on holiday together. Minutes of trying to talk her out of it did no good—her mind was made up and she was getting ink. So, together in the darkest hours of night we drove to a small tattoo parlor just outside the city where she hopped out and raced me to the door.
I let her know this time she was flying solo with the ink; that I was gonna pass. Of course she was unhappy with my decision but it wasn’t gonna stop her. Knowing what she wanted, she jumped out of her jeans and went behind the curtain with the artist. It was going to be awhile, so I got cozy in the truck and drifted in and out of sleep as I waited for her.