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Three Chords and a Cloud Of Dust II
Three Chords and a Cloud Of Dust II
Watershed

 

CD $ 9.99 IR062 BUY NOW

Track Listing:
1. Suckerpunch
2. 5th of July
3. Small Doses
4. Obvious
5. The Habit
6. Wallflower Child
7. Mercurochrome
8. Anniversary
9. Slowly Then Suddenly
10. Don't Give a Damn
11. Can't Be Myself
12. The Best Is Yet To Come
13. Black Concert T-Shirt
Columbus, Ohio’s Watershed have done damn near everything there is to do in rock and roll. After dropping out of college, they signed with Epic Records and sipped champagne in long, white limousines. Then they stuffed themselves into a Ford Econoline, and they’ve been living off beer and beef jerky ever since. They humped their amps through the doors at CBGB ten times. They’ve played the House of Blues on the Sunset Strip. The Metro in Chicago. The Rat in Boston. They’ve shared the stage with Wilco, Ben Folds, Tommy Stinson, The Damnwells, Cheap Trick, The Smithereens, Insane Clown Posse (no shit), and long list of has-beens and wannabes. Their catchy, three-minute rock gems have been featured on MTV’s Laguna Beach, Date My Mom, and Made, and they’ve been in rotation on radio stations from South Carolina to Seattle.

In keeping with overblown arena rock tradition, Watershed recognizes that all career-making live albums must have a sequel. Trouble is their 1994 Epic debut, Three Chords and a Cloud of Dust Live, wasn’t exactly career-making. In fact, it pretty much ruined them at Epic. Thirteen years and eight-hundred shows later, they’re giving themselves a do over with Three Chords and a Cloud of Dust II, an unedited live set that captures the all the raw power of a sold-out show in their hometown: bum notes, dropped beats, and all.

On tape Watershed sounds like a (gasp) rock band. That may sound trite, but these days rock bands—real rock bands, the kind that play Les Pauls and Marshalls, not Apple PowerBooks—are hard to come by. As Amplifier Magazine’s Tom Semoli writes, a Watershed concert is “akin to the manner in which the Replacements and The Faces once bravely blurred the fine line between mayhem and total professionalism.” Their sets inevitably end with half the band flat on their backs and tangled in their instrument cables, the stage littered with guitars and cymbal stands and empty beer bottles.

In the Midwest, Watershed shows are legendary. But they don’t log 100,000 hard miles and a hundred shows a year to be “legendary” any more than Cool Hand Luke cracked all those eggs because he wanted an omelet. No, Watershed takes the stages of musty clubs, belting their songs like their lives depend on it, because they are one of the last rock bands standing. And that’s what rock bands do.