The Wiyos

Twist

Mar. 27, 2012

midnight

Bob Dylan handpicked this ragtag posse of vintage acoustic whizzes to open his 2009 tour of minor league baseball stadiums in an exercise in obscurity, eccentricity and, mostly, nostalgia. Named for an Irish street gang out of New York's old Five Points neighborhood, the Wiyos vigorously embraced 1920s- and '30s-style jug bands, Tin Pan Alley ensembles, vaudeville and a swinging New Orleans street idiom. Smoking ragtime guitar, thwacking upright bass and relentless metal-finger attacks on a washboard delivered energetic takes on traditional Americana. In short, they were drinking the same brand of hillbilly moonshine as the Carolina Chocolate Drops, and enough of it to sound like a way more fun-timey version of Mumford & Sons. However, Twist shows the timesalong with the lineup and all established acoustic preferencesare a changin'. Exit ace axman Parrish Ellis and bassman Joseph Dejarnette and enter success, Pro Tools and some house-in-upstate-New York weirdness. Keyboards, effects, hard-driven electric guitar, distortion and even some beat-boxing (seemingly just to punch their purist followers in the ear) lead a windy aural soundscape of lyrical acrobatics. At times sounding like a more up-tempo Felice Brothers, at others like the harmony-obsessed Fleet Foxes, and still sometimes like their former selves, the overall feel is that of an outfit more attuned to the North Mississippi Allstars than the Mississippi Sheiks. Certainly traditionalists will fare well sticking to the group's early efforts, but nuggets like the infectious jaw harp and twang of “Sally May” make it evident that The Wiyos are still one of the most volatile, impassioned and old-school of New Folk outfits.