Hailing from upstate New York, near where Bob Dylan and the Band cut The Basement Tapes, the Felice Brothers (three siblings and a friend) aspire to the weird, woozy vibe of that great album, and often approach it. Ian Felice seems to be battling a massive hangover as he sings about unreliable lowlifes who carry firearms, hatch dubious schemes, and get into woman trouble. And just when his tales of desperate living start to wear thin, tender tunes like “Ruby Mae” provide a refreshing break from the roughneck chatter.
