Kevin Herig Duo • alternative rock

Thursday Mar 22, 2018

1912 Second Street NW
Albuquerque, NM 87102
US

Phone: 505-900-3909
Website: Click to Visit

Cost:

FREE

Ages:

ALL-AGES!

Contact:

Rio Bravo Brewing Co.

Phone: 5059003909
Website: Click to Visit

More events at Rio Bravo Brewing Company

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“Give it all away” was released in the Fall of 2013, followed with "All You Can't Control" in March of 2016. Kevin is also the Founder and Director of Rock 101 New Mexico, a music program in his hometown of Albuquerque, New Mexico that aims to educate and empower youth.

 

From Musically Speaking by Mel Minter:

 

Now that singer/songwriter/guitarist Kevin Herig’s good friend (and backing vocalist on this album) Meredith Wilder has headed north to Colorado, Herig can quite reasonably lay claim to the mantle of the area’s sweetest voice—warm, intimate, and soothing—reminiscent of early Paul Simon. That’s not the only influence you’ll hear on All You Can’t Control. There are echoes of CSN, ’50s Memphis, and the Beatles, too—but it’s all Herig.

 

The six original songs are so well and tightly crafted, with such fine details so perfectly placed—a bell here, a brief harmony there, a slide up the guitar’s neck to carry you to the next verse—that you might want to take them in your hands and turn them over and over for the sheer tactile pleasure of it. The music is never hurried, and the musicians—Wilder, Kyle Ruggles (bass), Jeff Bell (drums), Brendan Brejcha (piano and organ), Chris Tenerowicz (slide)—play with a restrained laconic fervor that deepens the emotional content. Herig explores relationships—good ones, bad ones, equivocal ones, impossible ones—and memory through the lens of singular details.

 

In “Honey Jar,” he grapples with uncertainty: “These lines we hook and throw, I follow through the air, into the water/But from there, I do not see where they will go.” In “Contrails,” he can’t escape what he cannot have: “It shows on my face like a breath in cold air./I fall through the fog, and I’ll stay suspended there./I brood in the truth,/I can never have you./How long must you hold on to me?” In “Aptos,” then and now simultaneously inhabit a special place: “I go and stand there all the time,/my toes up to the edge, my hands clenched to a rusty fence./I look down from the cliff and see some kids are playing with/A baseball bat washed in with old debris./One of those kids was me.” The crisp production, shared between Herig and Tenerowicz, finds an airy spaciousness that allows the material to breathe and invites the listener in.