Hard Fixed, the DTs
Nepotism is the practice of giving jobs, promotions, or fawning press coverage to family members or other drinking buddies because they ask nicely and because you already like them pretty well. (It doesn’t hurt when you actually love their work, but it’s still nepotism…)
If it aint fucked up, don’t fix it.
Hard Fixed, the smouldering debut by Bellingham, Washington’s DTs is neither fixed nor fucked, rather a collection of saucy rhythm and soul with enough jolt to flatten the proudest. Sure, it’s real purdy at a glance, but watch out for that big goddamn hammer. I said WATCHOUT!!
An ardent departure for Sir Estrus Dave Crider’s former work with the Mono Men and Watts, this band draws its muse from the blue moods of ‘60s soul. Hard Fixed is a dynamic romp through themes of love, loss and revenge—stuff no one sings about these days.
The DTs label themselves Hard Soul. To dare a record like this you need a shit hot chick singer like Diana Blanchard. Girl’s got Voice and the guts to use it— inviting the listener in with a sultry taste, then turning with wanton wail that harkens Tina or Janis. Her vocals are powerful and sure at either extreme, and her lyrics are the stuff of life lived. “I’m down on the ground, but I’ve been here before” she snarls on “On the Ground,” summing up the lyrical attitude of the album—that which does not shatter my heart only makes me stronger.
Drummer Phil Carter takes it to the roof, and organist Patti Bell lays down an opaque bass that sets the DTs apart from all the other hard soul bands out there right now jockeying for position. As if! The DTs are on a train all their own with a sound part borrowed, part new and all blue. No one’s pushing this kind of junk right now.
The album kicks off with “Loaded Gun,” featuring Dave on some great slide guitar, and closes with a murderous version of Tina Turner’s “Chopper,” one of two covers on the record. Hilights in between include every one of the other 8 tracks. “Proud Man” drives hard in low gear while “Hurt is Over” climbs hypnotically from cool to fucking insane-- baby baby baby babaay! “The Slide” and the desperate “Star 69” are sparser and feature Diana at her slyest.
Calmly etched in a weekend at legendary Egg Studios in Seattle with his Honor Tim Kerr at the wheel, Hard Fixed is a collection of feel ‘n’ fury for any era. Together a year as a three by the time Patti joined last April, the band hit the road ‘neath the summer skies to testify on jaunts with the Immortal Lee County Killers, the Midnight Evils and the Makers. Mercy missions overseas are planned in support of the record later this year.
Damn handsome packaging, too. Meticulously crafted by northwest illustrator extraordinaire Jim Blanchard (relation), the metallic snakeskin themotta represents perfectly the pretty yet gritty and sincere inner sinner of the DTs. The foldout mini-comic tells a narrative all its own, another dimension to the Hard Fixed device.
Hell, on second thought, this record is both fixed and fucked. In the hardest way. Baby…
— Callous French