Carrying The Torch: Vintage Trouble And The Battle For Rock 'N' Roll

There's something refreshingly old-fashioned about Vintage Trouble, and it's not just the name. A stripped-back rhythm and blues four-piece, their blueprint – rock-solid rhythm section, slick guitarist and a showman out front – has been around since the earliest knockings of rock 'n' roll. 

Sometimes, there's a lot to be said for the old way. Vintage Trouble put on a killer live show and work hard; they're always on tour and spent their earliest days playing four residencies a week back home in Los Angeles.

Since then they've embarked on their own version of the Stax family's famous 1967 UK tour – during which an appearance on Later...with Jools Holland tipped them into the limelight – and laid waste to countless clubs, theatres and arenas. They're currently on tour with the Who, and will turn out at Glastonbury before opening for the Rolling Stones this summer. You need to have the goods to pull that off.

“We clicked from the very first moment we stepped in a room together,” drummer Richard Danielson said. “The very first beat. I specifically remember that moment in my life, thinking ‘oh’. That’s how we were able to get in the studio so quick and record our record so fast, get that residency so quickly. We were also working extremely hard, getting together a lot and playing a lot.

“A lot of bands in Los Angeles and probably across the world, they don’t play as much as they probably could. They kinda do that big gig and then hold up for a while, maybe do some rehearsing, play that next gig in six weeks or something. We were playing four nights a week and before that we were probably rehearsing four nights a week. We jumped ahead very quickly by putting in a lot of time.”

Ty Taylor, the band's magnetic frontman, points to their first show – and ensuing after-hours gig – as the moment that he knew they were onto something special.

“We played our very first gig at Harvelle's and we played an after gig at another place,” he said. “We knew right away that we were surrounded by people who would play until they fell down. We knew that in our band we had three other people who would play until they couldn’t walk anymore. We got together at five o’clock for a soundcheck on the first night we ever played, and we didn’t leave each other until the sun was up the next day.”

They very quickly developed a reputation, both at home and abroad, as a fearsome live band. Their energy was captured on tape for their first record, 'The Bomb Shelter Sessions', and they soon found themselves as a beacon for music fans who wanted to forget their troubles on the dancefloor. Taylor was happy to oblige.

“The world tries to be so cool now,” he said. “If you look back at the earliest rock 'n' roll and the earliest rhythm and blues, it was happy music. It was escape music. A lot of people even consider negro spirituals to be heavy and dark, but they weren’t heavy and dark. It was music that lifted people out of their misery.

“It’s nice that we get a chance to carry the torch for a style of music that if enough people don’t carry the torch for it, it might be gone. That would be horrible. If the world gets so perfect that there’s no more soul and heart in art, then we’re really in trouble. How else are people going to learn that everything starts in the centre of your body, not in your head? We don’t mind being on a mission to make sure that people don’t forget.”

In full flow, they are a sight to behold. Taylor holds court at the front of the stage, a blur of arms and dancing feet. Guitarist Nalle Colt peels off licks while winking to the crowd, and bassist Rick Barrio Dill shouts backing vocals while laying down a groove. It's a formula that's worked before, but they do it much better than most.

“If someone wants to say that we’re the next big thing, then we want to make sure that someone who comes to see us has no reason to leave that place saying ‘hmmm, no they’re not’,” Taylor said. “It’s hard, but you’ve got to live up to shit like that.

“Sometimes the world can be a little cynical, and when some people give you nice titles and reviews, there are a bunch of people who are gonna come because they want to shoot holes through it. For us, rather than getting nervous about that, it gives us impetus to get better every day. By better I don’t mean perfect, I mean better as in doing what we want to.”

Along with carrying the torch for rhythm and blues, Vintage Trouble are happy to kick against the electronic loops, click tracks and shoegazers that dominate certain corners of the live music scene. Danielson picks up on the theme and laments the hermetically sealed pop music that clogs countless iPods and listings guides.

“A lot of the big shows people are going and seeing, that’s not necessarily live music,” he said. “A lot of it is to tape. It’s not organic and it’s not real. I do think that there’s a huge upswing in that and there has been for a whole decade. But live music has always been there, it is coming back around. I hope that there will be more of a call for it and less of a call for music that is less honest.

“My fear is that we’ve lost an entire generation to this sort of computer generation. Our kids are growing up today with music that was made by computers and they don’t necessarily know any better. I do see kids today discovering older music as if it’s some amazing new thing. I think the reason they’re discovering it in that sense is that it’s hitting them somewhere in their soul, in their guts. It was produced in such a way and it’s affecting them on some subconscious level. Kids today are discovering real, true live music.”

Taylor too believes that there's light at the end of the tunnel. He added: “If you have someone like Mumford and Sons being the biggest selling arena act in the world, you know you’re heading in the right direction. We just hope it’s a good sign. Ten years ago there wasn’t a Mumford and Sons and I was like, ‘oh fuck, where are we going?'”

Dill lays some of the responsibility for preserving the sanctity of the live show with the artists themselves, and brings out a few names that would make even the most hard-headed studio executive sit up and take notice. Arena shows aren't everything it seems, and even the big guns need to get things off their chest from time to time.

“I always loved the stories of Prince,” he said. “He’d play the big arena shows and everyone would get the hits. For 95% of people that’s what they want and they can go back to work the next day. Then you’ve got the super fans, the uber musicians, who come and see him at the after party at two in the morning, where he would play until whenever.

“That’s more for the artist. That’s more for himself, to keep him going. Jack White, even the Foo Fighters, they show up and they do these crazy gigs in little towns for 200 people. There are bands out there that are like that and combine both. To me, that’s cool. It’s setting a beacon for the business side of music.”

Vintage Trouble are old school, and they won't apologise for it, but Taylor understands that there's a time and place for everything. Just because he's usually found demanding hands in the air from a sweaty, gyrating crowd, doesn't mean that he can't sit back and admire a record created in the confines of a state-of-the-art studio. “There’s something so magical about those old Disney animations, but that doesn’t make us not like Toy Story,” he said.

Living entirely in the past might not be healthy, then, but dipping a toe into the world that Vintage Trouble inhabit is a recipe for a good time. Dance more. Sing along.

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