Done Gone Fire

The joy of first listening to the music of Liz Janes, is like finding some rare 78 at a grage sale or finding some mislabeled home recording at the Goodwill. There is a tuck of secrecy behind the growled passion, at times soft enough to get the most stubborn insomniacs to relax, other times piercing through the heart of the most confident suitors.

Emerging out of the northwest punk improv scene, Liz Janes takes a breath and tells it straight. There is still a clever tumbling of fingers, a snapping, a plucking, an aggressive pulling; this is a confidence in the strength of the strings of her guitar, or any guitar. From the chords, vocal and otherwise, sprituals resurface through the strata of rock and there is a whisper of deep in interweaving roots. Walking the delicate yet adhesive line that drives through the blues/gospel split, she takes the message of spiritual liberation from Elvis' hips and redelivers it as a fiery vision of Holy Ghost power. Her music is a reminder that punk came way before rock n' roll.