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The Dodge Brothers
are renowned for playing the hell out of classic Americana. Singing
songs about transport, heartbreak and homicide, they render
distinctive narratives of mean women, bad men and railroads and set
them to hard driving rhythms. TV and radio presenter Mark Kermode
thumps the double bass and blows a lonesome harmonica. Joining him
with howling guitar and plaintive banjo is Mike Hammond alongside
the ringing guitar and mandolin of Aly Hirji. They're backed up by
percussion on a shoe-string from Al Hammond. This roughneck quartet
make a mighty roar and have got feet stomping and hands clapping
from California through the Natchez Trace to the South coast of the
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Well, it’s been some time and them
cantankerous sons-of-bitches known as the Brothers Dodge have finally
scraped together enough cash from strumming, singing and thievin’ for
some words to be put down on paper about where they come from and
where they reckon they’re headed – although in the words of that
lecherous old dog Warren Dodge they’re probably “most likely to wind
up playing weddings for cousins and waiting for the drink to do us
in.”
Yes, it must be said that those old
bootleggers do like a drop – which accounts for how they survived
Prohibition by peddling bath-tub gin from guitar cases. Rumour has it
that the middle wandering brother Otis ‘Outhouse’ Dodge will always
keep a case of it in his bass: “To please both sheriff and Devil,” or
so he says.
Oh, those boys are in and out of
trouble with the law most of the time, from petty thievin’ – the first
love of younger Master Chuck Dodge – to gambling and rumours abound
that ‘Wild Warren’ actually stole that John B Stetson and blamed it
all on Billy Lyons as a bet, which goes to show how much they love a
flutter. Why, gambling’s so rife among these boys that it’s said they
own each others souls, and “The Devil had to fold.” I won’t get
started on their low-down cheatin’ ways at cards, but if you ever spy
two or three Diamond Jacks in one deck of cards, odds are one of them
Dodge Brothers has passed that way and stole himself a meal ticket or
a train out of town.
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So notorious are the family feuds that
Chuck Dodge has to keep his brothers in front of him – “If I can’t see
‘em, they’re likely to sell me down to Louisiana or shoot me in the
back,” he is often fond of saying. Rumour has it there was a fourth
Dodge Brother, but it’s either life in the penitentiary for one of our
favourite outlaws, or a rumour that’ll never be confirmed.
But for all their disagreements, one
thing is certain – these boys sure do love their mama; why, they’d do
just about anything for her. And no wonder they’re such loyal sons –
with a father and uncle gone missing in the Natchez Trace while
looking for gold, and apparently being murdered over a card game on
the train back after striking big. Rumour has it that every Saturday
Mama Dodge goes down to the train station to wait for her husband’s
return. Of course, confirming this rumour is hard, as Mama Dodge is
not to be spoken of unless a careless young gambler wants to lay odds
on outrunning one of the many .44’s carried by these gunslingers.
That’s right folks, these fine young
men firmly believe that guns make for a polite society – and who’s to
argue? Not me, that’s for damn sure – just so long as they got a rifle
in one hand and God’s Good Book in the other, these boys can think
what they please – even spitting tobacco on the floor in the presence
of womenfolk is fine, too.
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