No “Tears In Heaven” Here | The Culls’ aren’t about to go all mushy-Clapton on ya.
The Culls
May 10 (2pm) @ The Black Dog (10425-82 Ave)/May 10 (8pm) @ Rendezvous Pub (10108-149 St).
“I might write a lot of screamin’ heavy shit, but I’m a farm lad.... I want to write songs about the lifestyle I live, and what I can see outside my window.”
Calling from his farm outside of Calgary, The Culls guitarist and lead singer Rick Overwater is dishing quite matter-of-factly on why classic country artists like Merle Haggard or Johnny Cash convey a certain level of honesty and down-home sincerity that newer country singers can’t quite pull off.
If getting in touch with Overwater in the past few days has been a task, it’s not because he’s living a frilly Brooks & Dunn existence: he’s been taking care of his duties as a dad or, as in the case of our first missed call, hauling compost. (“Sexy stuff,” he jokes.) Combine this no-bullshit daily living with a love for sharp-as-a-razor, steady-as-a-train outlaw tunes, and you’re already beginning to hone in on the spirit behind what Overwater calls The Culls’ brand of “bent-up bluegrass gospel and outlaw honkytonk.”
“I like the idea of music being more accessible and timeless,” he continues. “I like to write songs about cheatin’, hurtin’, and heartbreak—but with a Shakespearean angle. I write those same songs about killin’ and dyin’, but if this guy kills his woman, he’s gonna fuckin’ pay for it!”
With influences ranging from Waylon Jennings to The Sadies and even The Cramps, The Culls latest album If Your Horse Returns Alone is as hell-bent as they come: it doles out breakneck-fast public-domain bluegrass stompers like “Mathemetician Blues” and God-fearin’ cautionary tales like the aptly titled “A Warning Shot From the Lord.”
“I grew up in a Christian family,” Overwater says, “and that taught me a lot about patience and forgiveness—that came out in the classic gospel songs.”
At other times, Overwater channels his so-called “inner reprobate” into punk-tinged tunes like “Country Boy’s Revenge.” But at the end of the day, the songwriter has little in common with the drunks and derelicts canonized by the country tunes of old: the Didsbury, Alberta native is too busy being a parent. “I wouldn’t say it has an enormous effect on the way I write songs,” he says, “but it certainly gives you a bigger palette to draw from—your capacity for worry goes through the roof. I’m looking at my daughter in her sandbox outside right now and I’m afraid to leave her alone. I’ll hopefully never do the Eric Clapton thing and write a song about my kid, but it certainly does give you that perspective for morality.”
Despite his duties as a dad, Overwater and his band plan on a busy summer of touring west through Alberta and into British Columbia. If all goes well, they’ll maintain that momentum and close up some festival appearances (once, Overwater says, the “headache” of the application process subsides) before returning home.
“We just want to go where there is an audience for this kind of music: it’s a matter of going where the fans are. Ideally, I’ll be playing this kind of music my whole life.”
