"The Feast of Three Arms"

by Octopi Mills

Leave it to some folks from San Francisco to put together something like this. Here is what the promo states:

"..the murder balladeers introduce us to Willie’s cousin, Jubal with No Last Name, and his quest to kill the man that did his mama wrong. This detailed tale is delivered through seventeen movements"

The music mixes many styles; Appalachian folk, Spanish, country, blue grass and Tex-Mex- counterfeit Mexican with a non authentic ranchero sauce smuggled down an old pant leg ....just like the melting pot of California itself, and the west comes through in such a way to be unmistakably such. The vocals come across like a Vegas act; singing over the music like a dry, sun-baked cocktail singer sings in lounge over a band that could as well be a million miles away.  Every now again, the voice plays narrator and speaks over the music in a cinematic kind of way, which gives it a audio book kind of feel. The men know how to play their instruments; how to pick and fiddle up a maddening, fire starting heat to a pot of beans on a dusty range trail. We follow the character of the tale as he plays Russian Roulette with the moon, talks to crows, and turns to murder and killing. This is the stuff one might hear at a small theater, and almost has a Branson Missouri stage feel to it. The affair is campy and an eight cheeses kind of plate; a trick pony of hokey, dark humor. In the end it is something different, and has a morbid air for the aspiring cow poke or even the budding horse thief.