The Infamous Stringdusters knock the dust off Nashville’s Marathon Music Works

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By Alma Reed

Written by Wes Lytz

The Infamous Stringdusters bestowed their jams upon Nashville’s Marathon Music Works Friday night. They are touring on their soon to be released Rise Sun album available April 5th. 

Great Peacock opened the show. Mostly rock and roll with a little bit country, Great Peacock pumps out some seriously respectable tunes. They even toss in a cover of Tom Petty’s You Don’t Know How It Feels. Guitarist Blount Floyd appears to be having wayyyy too much fun, and it’s worth the price of admission to see him rock out.

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If you aren’t familiar with The Infamous Stringdusters, consider this your prelude to the Electric Church of great jam music. Not just a catchy name, TIS are 5 talented dudes who sing and play exclusively stringed instruments: double bass, guitar, banjo, fiddle and dobro. They unite the fluidity and spur-of-the-moment expressiveness of your favourite jam band (think Phish) with heavy dose of bluegrass virtuosity and a dash of country and gospel style songwriting.  Like any true jam band, they maintain a coterie of disciples that change from gig to gig. 

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After mingling with some boisterous travelling fans, I assume the position against the safety barrier.  Busy lights and fog machines prepare an induction to an altered state. The band members lead the way, communicating telepathically as they decide which way to take the song this time.  

You get sucked in, it envelops your consciousness. Fiddler Jeremy Garrett has some technical difficulties leading up to his solo, something in the signal chain decides to take the night off. Without so much as a head nod, Andy Hall covers his 6 and shreds a gnarly dobro solo while Mr. Garrett works out the kinks. These are the kinds of things your band can do when everyone is really damn good.

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 Two hours collapses into seconds. The hypnotists snaps their fingers and waking consciousness is restored. A light buzzing sensation and a heart full of inspirado remains. Guess I’ll sign up for those banjo lessons Saturday morning.