The Nerve Magazine
June 2006
By Boy Howdy

Tequila and a Concrete Floor

Shiloh ­ hmmm, you may think you are dealing with a purdy lil’ wallflower, but she’ll land a roundhouse right to your head before you get a chance to get your bearings. You’ll wake up, alone, miserable, and on the floor and your money will be gone, your liquor all drink up and don’t even think about finding your cigarettes ‘n’ weed, she’s a crafty kitten and she writes damn fine songs too!

Fuelled by the kind of broken-hearted wisdom that re3ally belies her tender age, Shiloh Lindsey is able to connect with the forlorn and the hell-strewn with tunes like “For My Smoke”, with it’s ragged and dreamy arrangement that takes you away to a time when life seemed to be at a true crossroads.

“I only started writing in the country styling about four years ago. Before that I was doing singer/songwriter stuff. Country is something that I grew up listening to so I guess I’m just going back to what I know best. Heartache and drinkin’, losing parts of ears in bar room brawls, etc.”

When Shiloh sings, “You know you’re alone/When you’re walking home/Drunk out of your mind” ­ you really feel like it’s all fucking over and it just won’t ever be the same again.

Shiloh’s live show is a shitstomp either way ­ solo, or with her crack band featuring Mark Campbell on bass (“a Celtic Sword because he’s a red bearded Scotsman who’s sharp as Hell”), Frank the Tank Nichols (“a battering ram because he’s a hard hitting drummer”), and the extraordinary pedal-lap steel picker Mike Flunkert aka Doc Steel (“a Gatlin Gun because he combines reliability, a high firing rate, and ease of loading into a single device”)

Shiloh describes herself, meanwhile, as “a .44 magnum. She has well finished parts, is hard to break, and will last a lifetime when properly maintained.” She can hold her own in a van with Mud River or Stumblers Inn and out drink the Cadaver Dogs. I tell ya ­ don’t fuck with this gal or she’ll run a spike through your throat.

At the Mud River record release in May, we were livin’ the frantic pace described in Shiloh’s “Whiskey & Rum” first-hand: bum-rushing the stage, singin’ Stones and Crazy Horse covers, and drinkin’ Wisers straight outta the bottle. To say she’s tough, check out the pic: the morning after the night before. Eight stitches and a few new song ideas later, Shiloh got back on the horse and continued her journey. The songs belie her age and the voice: fuck, THE VOICE, it just BOOMS!

Her songs are well crafted and the production on her wonderful record, For My Smoke (by John Ellis) is tasteful and expansive. The pairing is and inspired one for Shiloh’s country torch songs, particularly in the rousing “Hell in The First” ­ Jew’s harp and all. Here, Shiloh really wears a coat of many pained and complex colors, and newcomers are advised to take heed ­ she may be a slight lass, but you’d better not fuck with her!