Stacie Collins Rolls ‘Em
Put Wanda Jackson and Lou Ann Barton in a sack with a wildcat. Shake well. Open, then quickly get out of the way. That unholy recipe whomps up a heapin’ helping of Stacie Collins. For her latest, Collins is packin’. She’s strapped, locked, and loaded, ready to blow you away. Born over a bar in Muscogee and raised on the mean streets of Bakersfield, Collins puts out a high octane blend of blues and raucous county honk studded with enough rock to rattle your teeth. Her persona is impressive enough on vocals and harp, but the extra ammo she‘s loaded for this outing packs quite a wallop.
Georgia Satellite founder/vocalist/guitarist Dan Baird is back on board. Baird produced and played on her sophomore effort, ’07’s Lucky Spot and 2010’s Sometimes You Gotta. He’s aided by guitarist Audley Freed, (Cry Of Love, Black Crowes, Govt. Mule, Joe Perry Band, Dixie Chicks), with hubby and producer Al Collins on bass.
Collins backs her twangy whoop with wailing back alley Chicago style harp while Baird and Freed fling Stonesy riffs at one another on the opener, “Lost and Found.” Those boys are seriously twisted string pullers, layin down a messa rockin’ bidness that gets your heart pounding and your butt rockin,’ setting you up for Collins’ honky-tonk whup ass vocals.
“Gonna Fly” has a pull yourself up by your bootstraps message, the singer vowing she’s not gonna live like this anymore, hammered home with heavy duty rock.
In her live show, Collins’ tales of heartbreak and hard livin’ are presented with such energy and showwomanship, the singer stomping along on top of the bar, perched on the woofers, harp wailing, that sometimes folks get so excited about the presentation, prancing and whoopin‘ and such that it‘s hard to get the full impact of the lyrics and understand what a good songwriter she is. “Heart On My Sleeve” is feisty enough to have been penned by Loretta Lynn. Like any good country song, it has a simple message, plain spoken but eloquently expressed. “Don’t talk till you’ve walked a mile in my shoes,” Collins warns potential loved ones applying for the job: “maybe then you could give some advice I could use.”
“Keep Rollin’” showcases what Collins does best, a mind bending combo of raw urban blues harp overlaid with southern fried vocals garnished with whoop and twang, Baird and Freed honky-tonkin like Keef crashing a good ole boy get down session.
Collins should be huge. This stuff kicks Nashville’s country ass big time. But as Collins acknowledges, the problem is that her stuff is so unusual that it presents marketing problems. “People here in Nashville don’t know what to do with it because its kind of a rocking thing, and it’s kinda country, and it doesn’t really fall into any category,” Collins says of her adopted hometown’s attitude toward her. “The blues people love it, but they don’t have any relationships in the country market, and the country people think its too rock.”
To hell with all of ’em. Tear off the labels and throw ’em away. It’s just good music, and that’s all you need to know.