By Eleni P. Austin
Originally, Rival Sons made a name for themselves on the road. So, it’s no surprise that the Long Beach four-piece has spent most of this last year touring the globe. Initially, they were celebrating the release of their two 2023 albums, Darkfighter and Lightbringer, a pair of post-pandemic masterpieces that, taken together distilled the shadow and illumination that gripped the world these last few years. First, they worked their way through the U.S. before hopping continents trekking through the U.K., Europe and South America.
Currently, they’re hopscotching the states on a co-headlining with Stoner Rock stalwarts, Clutch. Fresh off the critical and commercial success of Darkfighter and Lightbringer, they’re also commemorating the 10-year anniversary of their game-changing 2014 effort, Great Western Valkyrie.
Guitar-slinger Scott Holiday, charismatic front-man Jay Buchanan, drummer Michael Miley and bassist Dave Beste, have created a sun-drenched, California Blues Rock sound that is, by turns, Soulful,erudite, electrifying, raunchy, reflective, playful and perspicacious.
More than 15 years and nine records in, the Sons have received Grammy nominations, garnered praise from heroes like Jimmy Page and Ozzy Osbourne, and toured with everyone from AC/DC, Aerosmith, Deep Purple, Lenny Kravitz, Guns N’ Roses, Sabbath and the Stones.
Tuesday night they finally touched down in their home state, hitting the stage at L.A.’s venerable Wiltern venue, following a lengthy set from Clutch that was equal parts thunder and finesse.
As the lights dimmed, the show began on a quiescent note as Jay stepped out of the shadows armed with his trusty acoustic guitar. He launched into a sylph-like solo version of the sanctified stomp “Shooting Stars.” In the five years since the band recorded it, the song has become a touchstone. The opening couplet says it all: “My Love is stronger than your, it’s stronger than yours, it’s stronger than yours, my love is stronger than your hate will ever be.” As his protean vocals soared and swooped, atop strummy guitar, the crowd fell in line, added staccato handclaps and backing vocals without out prompting. It was something of a musical palette cleanser following Clutch, that offered a bit of a cosmic exhale.
As his humble croon receded, the rest of the band hit the stage and got down to business. Up first was the celestial crunch of “Mirrors.” Jay’s stentorian vocals ping-ponged between keys, tensile bass, a basher beat and rapid-fire riff-age. As time signatures shifted, Scott unspooled a ferocious, fuzz-crusted solo that allowed Jay to “smash through the mirrors to see me on the other side.”
A couple of songs from Great Western Valkyrie dotted the set, allowing the band and the crowd to reflect on that record’s stunning achievement. “Electric Man” simply throbbed with intent. High voltage keys drafted off a pummeling beat, whirring guitar and rumbling bass lines. Jay’s elastic yowl leapt into the fray, part yodel, part war cry. The erotic frisson was palpable as Jay promised to “take you to the promised land.”
Meanwhile, the heaviosity of “Open My Eyes” was anchored by Miley’s leviathan beat, and leavened by flinty bass honeyed arpeggios and pyrotechnic licks. Jay’s melismatic cri de Coeur added a bit of Gospel heft as lyrics search for spiritual equanimity. On the break, Scott ripped into an incendiary solo that offered a hint of catharsis.
Happily, this hometown crowd was primed for the newer material from Darkfighter, and the Sons’ happily obliged. The Punk-tastic “Nobody Wants To Die” exploded across the stage, a calibrated cacophony of twitchy guitars, caffeinated keys and search-and-destroy bass lines all tethered to a jackhammer beat. Jay’s rat-a-tat vocal delivery was matched by panicked, paranoid, pandemic-y lyrics like: “Nobody wants to die, but they know they’re going to have to, X’s and O’s, ribbons and bows, ain’t no one gonna save you/Nobody wants to die, but they know they’re gonna have to, silver and gold, people you know, ain’t no one gonna save you.” Scott’s serpentine solo on the break was shadowed by cascading keys.
The mood shifted when the band launched into “Darkside.” The song is at once deeply personal and sadly universal. Down-stroke, double-neck guitar chords and a bone-crusher beat quickly downsized to just Jay’s tender voice, whispery acoustic notes and Scott’s lachrymose licks. Lyrics sketched out a scene that feels depressingly familiar- a friend falls down a rabbit hole of prescription addiction and can’t work his way out- finally succumbing : “there are no promises to keep, anymore.” The arrangement rises and falls, quiet verses were juxtaposed with incandescent instrumental interludes. Scott’s keening solo silhouetted Jay’s unfettered voice, empathetically mirroring the five stages of grief: anger, denial, anger, bargaining, depression and acceptance.
“Rapture” somehow struck a balance between the two. Broody guitars were wed to buttery keys, angular bass and a walloping backbeat. There was a Homeric lilt to Jay’s voice as he sought solace somewhere between sin and salvation: “Let my heart dance it’s way out of it’s chest to sing it’s freedom, that’s where I long to be, in creation, howling in rage/Singing loud, I do believe, I’m becoming, I’m becoming what I meant to be.” Scott’s phased and slightly dazed Psychedelic solo managed to wedge open the Doors Of Perception.
The Sons were simply on fire all night, but there were three songs that absolutely set the stage ablaze. A crisp and energetic take on their breakthrough track “Pressure And Time” was powered by Scott’s super-sonic guitar riffs, the crack time-keeping of Dave’s deft bass runs and Miley’s blitzkrieg beat. This song begs for a bit of call-and-response during the chorus and the crowd instinctively chimed in, chanting “Can we build it up.” At the bridge, Jay unfurled a catalogue of woes: “Take me out of this mudslide of never enough. let me eat from the fruit right off of the trees, when God gets his rest, because six days are just too rough, I can only pray he doesn’t forget about me,” over a chunky percussive kick, and Scott immediately clapped back with a squally, face-melting solo.
The beauty of live performance, means that no song is ever played the same way twice. On vinyl, the title track from Feral Roots signaled an evocative return to Jay’s rural beginnings. In the last few years it has become an epic groover, the lodestar of their live sets.
Scott teased out feathery filigrees on his double-necked guitar as Jay’s bramble-thick rhythm riffs bookended his flights of fancy. The extended instrumental intro was propelled by Dave’s sinewy bass and Miley’s cantilevered backbeat. Prowling the stage like a panther, Jay offered up an origin story of sorts: “On the book where my page was torn there are words that I don’t understand, all my elders they tell me those ones were not writ by human hands, well, I just don’t believe that’s true, if the truth can be written then the truth can be hid, those words are commanding you, though your body may grow old, in your mind you must remain a kid.” The combustible chorus was contrasted by a lengthy break as Scott’s willowy wah-wah notes coalesced around hoodoo keys. By turns pastoral, Prog-Rock-y and Psychedelic, it clocked in at just over 13 minutes.
The set’s penultimate track, was also the most communal moment of the night. Jay introduced the sweetly sunny “Mosaic” by eloquently referencing the world’s recent trials and tribulations, as hurricanes and fires, discord and rage threaten to tear at the fabric of the country. Scott’s fleet fretwork was matched by moody, Moog-y keys, agile bass and a rippling beat. Sagacious lyrics weave a vivid tapestry of heartache, happiness, joy and pain, stitching together a journey that is just as important as the destination. By the anthemic chorus, it felt as though the entire audience was singing along, making eye contact and sharing sly glances, knowing everything was at stake: “In this mosaic of laughter and tears, ohh to fall, to rise, to rebuild, to realize, the broken, the broken, the broken pieces fit together, back away and the lines disappear, the broken fit together, back away and the lines disappear….we’re only here for each other.” Scott cut loose on the break, unleashing an elegiac solo that allowed us the grace to mourn the departed as well as celebrate the living.
Other interesting moments included the piledriving“Do Your Worst,” the wanton sensuality and sting of “Tied Up” and the blistering, bitter kiss-off of “Too Bad.” The set closed with the pugilistic “Keep On Swinging.” Scott’s distorto guitar salvos partnered with bruising bass lines and a batter-ram beat. Jay nimbly jabbed and feinted, sharing lyrics that are part mantra, part invocation: “One day, my prayers are gonna be answered, for so long, I’ve been hungry for something else, where there’s a will, there’s a way,I work hard cause at the end of the day, the Lord helps those that help themselves.” It was a lean and unfussy finish to a thrilling show.
There is a magic and majesty to this band, much like The Beatles and Led Zeppelin, the four-piece continue to expand their horizons and blaze new trails. Live and in person, Rival Sons deliver shows that simply crackle with authority, creating a kinetic kinship with fans. When Jay steadfastly croons “We’re only here for each other,” it’s clear that we are all included in that equation.
