Eric Fiedor, |
Last Will & Testament
(Rainy Day, 2003)
On a note accompanying his Last Will & Testament, Eric Fiedor claims the mainstream radio stations don't want to play his work. I can only guess the station managers haven't heard it.
It can't be his sound. Fiedor plays fast-moving blues-rock, both hard-edged and accessible. A chorus of guitars fuse into one layered sound, supported with a confident bass and smoothed by some slick keyboarding. Maybe it's the lyrics. They could be obscene. Maybe they're not. I can't tell, since Fiedor's voice often growls into incoherence. For once, that doesn't matter. I can't understand the exact words coming out of the guitars, either, but that's not why they're worth hearing. Fiedor, along with backup vocalists Herndon and Edmonds, is using his voice as another instrument, and his low, hungover vocals are the perfect match for the band's gravel-laced rock sound. This is especially evident in the beat-driven "White Man," where a single repeated chorus serves as the musical backbone for a song that lets the musicians go wild along its theme.
Where the lyrics are clear, they move as fast and loose as the music. "Steak and Potatoes" is love song celebrating the truly great romances of the world. "Should Have Been Dead" is an anthem for every foolhardy man and woman who somehow managed to survive their youth. Slower and groaning with frustration, "Upside Down Rainbow" is a conversation with an old man cursed with optimism. The lyrics to all Fiedor's songs are often funny, sometimes thoughtful, but never obscene that I can hear. So that can't be it, either.
So the only possible good reason that you're not hearing Eric Fiedor right now on local rock station is that they aren't well known. Help remedy that by picking up one of his CDs.