Sarah Shook and the Disarmers
McGonigel’s Mucky Duck
January 29, 2024
You can be sure of a few things when you attend a show at the Duck: someone will say something loudly during a quiet moment, a patron will discover their bar seat’s line of sight goes directly through the lone support pillar in the center of the room, and you might just discover a hidden gem of a performer.
Sarah Shook has been around for a minute, earning accolades from numerous publications — including the once vaunted likes of Rolling Stone — for their Bloodshot Records/Thirty Tigers releases Years and Nightroamer. That unique blend of C/W and punk still qualifies as “hidden” in a world where country radio is dominated by the likes of Morgan Wallen and whatever the fuck a HARDY is.
Shook and the band appeared with no fanfare (another enjoyable aspect of the Duck is how performers have to thread the cramped tables to get to the stage). “Good As Gold,” one of the stronger cuts from Years, started things off. It was followed quickly by one of their more popular cuts, “Talking to Myself.”
They’re a person of few words, playing five or six songs before bothering to address the audience. Even then, it was a perfunctory “Thanks for showing up.” About as fitting a sentiment for a Monday night as you could expect.
And aside from that and introducing the band — guitarist Blake Tallent looks like Adam Driver with graying hat hair — Shook let their music do the talking. By turns twangy, bluesy, or with a sense of doom-filled urgency, their set gave hope to those looking for authenticity in an era of Auto-Tune and The Voice.
I also appreciate any band that looks like a bunch of people I would’ve crossed the practice field to avoid after the last bell rang in high school. The Disarmers have serious mullet energy and I’m here for it.
And maybe they use that to offset (or augment, depending on your follicular opinions) the hangdoggedness of Shook’s lyrics. “Stranger,” “Heal Me,” and “New Ways to Fail” all exemplify the idea that we’re all well and truly hosed.
Abetted by Tallent, each of Shook’s songs are as close to the Platonic ideal of verse-chorus-verse—guitar solo-verse-chorus as you’ll ever hear. From a rollicking “Fuck Up” to an almost dirge like “If It’s Poison,” their aching and authentic stories about heartbreak and battles with the bottle offer everything people complain is missing from contemporary country music.
They rolled out a few new tunes, including “Backsliders,” a song about … well, you know. It’s a number that wouldn’t have sounded out of place on a Dwight Yoakum album. Quite the coincidence that they played the whiskey-soaked “Dwight Yoakum” (from 2017’s Sidelong) shortly thereafter.
Shook’s voice recalls Lucinda Williams by way of Exene Cervenka, and is as authentic an instrument as her Gibson. “The Bottle Never Lets Me Down,” “Years,” and “Nothin’ Feels Right But Doin’ Wrong” all recall a bygone era when country music wasn’t Muzak with pedal steel, when it still had a hint of danger and desperation, and when it was written by real people who poured their lives into the words.
The Disarmers are one of a few bands still flying that flag. Do yourself a favor and seek them out (hint: none of them will be playing NRG next month).
Personal Bias: I watched a few episodes of the AppleTV+ series High Desert and the only thing that stuck out was the title song. A Tunefind search yielded “Talkin’ to Myself” by Shook, and the rest is history.
The Crowd: 75 percent aging Duck regulars, 25 percent dirtbag.
Overheard In The Crowd: “Do you have anything nonalcoholic?”
Random Notebook Dump: “She actually said ‘tip your bartenders.'”
This article appears in Jan 1 – Dec 31, 2024.
