AEM095 The Powder Kegs

The Pow­der Kegs are a pop trio from Philadel­phia via NYC, fea­tur­ing Dan Maroti on vocals, gui­tar, and key­board, Ryan Dieringer on vocals and bass, and Sam McDougle on drums. Their rootsy pop rock & roll bends gen­res, and calls to mind per­son­al­i­ties like Beck, Elvis Costello or Paul Simon.  Dieringer explains, “our band’s take on indie-pop is eclec­tic, but grounded by a dis­tinct folk bent.” He adds that their ‘folk bent’ was osten­si­bly acquired dur­ing their four-year stint as an old-time string band busk­ing on the streets of New York City.  But if you want to trace it back even fur­ther, you can, to the sum­mer they spent in Ver­mont work­ing as farmhands in exchange for room and board and tak­ing Burlington’s clubs and bars by storm at night.  When The Pow­der Kegs formed in 2005, they were as a six-piece ensem­ble fea­tur­ing gui­tar, bass, fid­dle, banjo, slide-guitar, har­mon­ica, and vocal har­monies galore.  This rootsy ensem­ble was fea­tured on NPR’s A Prairie Home Com­pan­ion with Gar­ri­son Keillor—the  same radio show your Dad blasted in the car when you were a child on those inter­minably long road trips to Grandma’s house—where in 2007 they took home first prize for the “Peo­ple in their Twen­ties Tal­ent Show.”  So is that the begin­ning?  No, because long before the Pow­der Kegs, Maroti, Dieringer, and McDougle, who met in high school, were mak­ing music together.

And now, almost a decade later, they’ve returned to their roots in a sense, because the band is once again a trio.  But they’ve trav­eled a long way.   The Pow­der Kegs have relo­cated once more, aban­don­ing the Big Apple for Philadel­phia, and they’ve put another hun­dred miles between them­selves and the moun­tains of Ver­mont, both lit­er­ally and fig­u­ra­tively.  McDougle put down the fiddle—at least as his pri­mary axe—and took up his new res­i­dence behind the drum set, while Dieringer switched to elec­tric bass.   As Dieringer explains, their sound is still grounded by a folk bent but now it’s a lit­tle harder to see, obscured by a thick layer of pop.  It isn’t easy for a band to change direc­tions so sharply with­out con­fus­ing or, worse, alien­at­ing its fan­base, but to their credit The Pow­der Kegs have set­tled into their new home and new style with remark­able ease.  And maybe that’s because in both incar­na­tions they have played or  now play the kind of music that just about any­body would be hard pressed not to enjoy.

Whether it’s the reg­gae inflec­tions, buoy­ant vocal melody, or Span­ish lyrics, A-side “La Mari­posa” (The But­ter­fly) has all the mark­ings of a sum­mer beach jam.  This song pushes things south of the bor­der.  Give me the palm trees, sand beneath my toes, and a frozen mar­garita.  Well, almost.  This isn’t Jimmy Buf­fet and it isn’t Jason Mraz, although fans of the lat­ter would prob­a­bly dig this.  But thank­fully it’s also got some edge and some sub­stance.  Dierienger, who wrote the song, describes it as  “hip-hop influ­enced pop track” which is an accu­rate enough appraisal of a song which man­ages to incor­po­rate both the rhyth­mic punch of hip hop and the melodic hooks char­ac­ter­is­tic of pop.  It starts out softly enough, with a lightly strummed acoustic gui­tar, shaker, and vocals, but hits on “back and forth, back and forth” drive it into action.  I’m always a sucker for that moment when the beat drops, and “La Mari­posa” plays it up.  The bass line is bril­liant for its sim­plic­ity.  Just a few notes, but it anchors every­thing down with a solid and very dance­able groove.  Antic­i­pat­ing the down­beat, it gives the song a vaguely latin groove, which jives well with the Span­ish lyrics.  So kick back and enjoy… until the cho­rus hits, and pushes things in a very dif­fer­ent direc­tion.  The bass and drums cut away, leav­ing only elec­tric piano and a some­what sub­dued vocal melody, not to men­tion an over­all sen­sa­tion of weight­less­ness.   Basi­cally, the bot­tom drops out.  Lyrics and groove alike evoke clas­sic pop.  “Baby, would you love me if I was 15 miles closer?”  It’s a per­fect cho­rus, not only for the con­trast it provides—the tight but sim­ple verse groove would prob­a­bly become bor­ing if sus­tained for three and a half min­utes with­out pause—but also because but also because it sets the stage for another epic beat drop.  Verse two?  Bang!  Indul­gent?  Maybe, but damn it feels good.  “La Mari­posa” also ends on an inter­est­ing note.  That reg­gae inflected groove slowly builds, first with a tasty trom­bone solo per­formed by Dylan Hume and later an entire horn sec­tion (read: many lay­ers of trom­bone over­dubs) which grows into some­thing resem­bling ska, but all the while main­tain­ing that solid bass foundation.

B-side “Shake Me Down” is every bit as catchy as “La Mari­posa” albeit for com­pletely dif­fer­ent rea­sons.  This time Maroti steps up to the role of song­writer, which per­haps explains why key­board  is the glue that holds this track together.  It’s a lot less bouncy, but har­mon­i­cally very beau­ti­ful.  The band describes it as a more “psy­che­delic groove track” which is an accu­rate enough descrip­tion although, again, the pop influ­ence is what stands out most.  By pop, I mean 60’s pop.  Vocals are processed to give them a vin­tage qual­ity.  The piano riff seems extremely pre­dictable… until that extra mea­sure thrown in at the end of every phrase.  “The world will change the bed­sheets of eter­nity,” 6, 7, 8, 9.  “What you are and what you’ll never ever be,” 6, 7, 8, 9.  But just when you’re begin­ning to get used to it, your expec­ta­tions are shat­tered again and the third phrase ends after a con­ven­tional eight beats.  The refrain pulls every­thing together well, with all instru­ments play­ing in rhyth­mic uni­son and then a short break before find­ing the groove again.  The “ooooh” har­monies that kick in for the sec­ond verse give it a lit­tle more oomph and keep things inter­est­ing.  Again, a trom­bone solo rises up at the end but unlike in “La Mari­posa” it dons an epic rather than jazzy vibe.  The song cul­mi­nates with a sing along clap along sec­tion that brings to mind “Hey Jude.”

So where is that folk bent that the band likes to talk about?  I see it mostly in the pleas­ant sim­plic­ity of their music.  Rather than bog­ging every­thing down with unnec­es­sary chords and notes, The Pow­der Kegs take an organic approach to their music and allow their songs to develop at a nat­ural pace.  The result is, sim­ply put, enjoy­able.  I’ve yet to see them live, but from what I hear they put on a fan­tas­tic show.  They’ll be going on tour this sum­mer, and drop­ping by NYC on July 8^th.

Nate Green­berg

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