The Swear, Lakota, Jeremy Ray

From the venue:

Music Room. The Swear’s new album The Clinic and The Sane is a defiant return to singer/writer/guitarist Elizabeth Elkins’ punk rock past inspired by five years of writing country music and playing by Nashville's rules. Rhythm section Kevin Williams (bass) and Kent Aberle (drums) snarl and twist through songs that can only be described as the New York Dolls on an all-night Leonard Cohen bender, with hints of Hum and The Damned. It's a two-minute furious rock and roll assault against hipsters ("East Nashville"), violence on Magazine Street and Sunset Boulevard ("Ghosts of New Orleans", "Outside a LA Rock Club") - and it's a cynical look at the race for fame and love in Nashville ("I Sold My Soul on Gallatin Road", "Stargazers", "Kurt Cobain and Jesus"). Behind the buzzing humbuckers and chaotic lyrics, you’ll find songs as disciplined as they are reactionary, held tightly together by Williams’ prog-punk riffs and Aberle’s disobedient swagger.