Local CD Review: Grandpa's Stash

Grandpa's Stash
Where Does It End

For the best part of a decade, Grandpa's Stash has established itself on the local club scene as something of a gnarly, untamable beast onstage, given over to loose but unshakable grooves, blithe, expansive jams, and raucous horn-driven ensemble squalls. Ironically, the band's live prowess has tended to obscure the fact that there's some keen songwriting underlying all the keg-tapping jams, and the band's first release, Where Does It End, proves it so. Braiding Beach Boys-style melodic sensibilities, Tower of Power horn kick, echoes of Motown, and the best of the Grateful Dead's studio craft with Southern-fried riffology and even Vaudevillian flourishes, the six-piece outfit has turned in a surprisingly polished and concise set of paisleyed pop-rock jewels.

Don't expect any Dylan-esque musing from vocalists Scott Faw and Andrew Sayne, though; most of the lyrics hail from the sunny side of the hippie-rock spectrum, all happy tokes and let's-join-hands communalism. But it's all good, because the airy pop delights of "Zephyr" or the bluesy swing of the set-closing "Bet on Good Times" appeal to our inner flower child with a mix of melody and heart that transcends rock sophistry. Grandpa smoked the kind bud, it would seem.


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