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Deadstring Brothers

1622


Listen to Sao Paulo

From the classic rock echoes that hang heavy like the reefer smoke in the rafters of Detroit’s Cobo Hall, to the soul reflected in the alleys and small faces of London’s Heavy Load scene to the exile off Main Street, few bands channel the sonic groove generated at the headwaters of our rock-and-roll DNA like Deadstring Brothers.

They know that rock-and-roll is both disease and redemption, penalty and reward, intoxicant and hangover. They know that a powerhouse hook exhilarates even as you’re getting kicked in the heart. The Brothers, in their leather boots and frayed jeans, tenaciously trudge through the oil slick puddles of a dying city, the hard light splitting into prismatic rainbows, finding beauty in decay.