Tin Can Telephone

With their newest release, Tin Can Telephone, St. Louis locals The Campfire Club are on to a delightfully unique formula: one part alt-country and bluegrass stomp, one part smoky analogue reverb and a healthy dose of STL pride. “Faulty tape machines, liquor, beautiful disasters and unbelievably true stories are what Tin Can Telephone is made of,” Campfire Club member Ryne Watts said. “This is our “midwest-istential” document of freedom, pain, guilt, regret, love, loss, dreams, and belief. It’s the melodies and lyrics in my head seen to fruition.”

Banjos, fiddles, and harmonicas pop up all over Tin Can Telephone, adding to the supremely intimate country vibe provided by the analogue recording process. Even the machine itself is woven into the atmosphere of the album: “We bought our new (old) reel-to-reel from a precarious, backwoods, character who kept a chainsaw on his couch, convex mirrors in the corners of his rooms, and walls lined with heavily-marked topography maps,” Watts said.

In particular, “The Banjo Song,” a cheerful, romping ode to life in St. Louis (featuring plenty of jolly banjo, of course), and “Devil’s in the Details,” a thoughtful and chilly song, both stand out as highlight tracks – yet as a whole, the album is held together by a cohesive sonic theme. Each song fits snugly and cozily with the rest and play off of very similar and what ultimately become familiar motifs after a few listens: the highs are lighthearted and jubilant; the lows are quiet and delicate; and throughout it all, The Campfire Club maintains a comfortable warmth. There’s no doubt that Tin Can Telephone will leave you with that good ol’ nostalgic feelin’. Blame the banjos.

*This article will appear in the November 2011 issue of Eleven Magazine.

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