Collecting Empties by Rainville

Imagine for a moment that you've been driving an old beat-up pickup all day long. Driving down a desolate rural road, you are headed back toward the city. You are close enough to the city to begin to feel you are home, yet rural enough to feel just out of place. Ahead, you see a figure sauntering down the road, hitch hiking - the old timer from the cover of Collecting Empties. Sure, your momma told you never to pick up hitchhikers - but it's been a long day, and some company would be nice. So you pick the old timer up - he's heading to the local saloon. He offers to buy you a beer since you were kind enough to give him a ride.

It's late, and you should be getting back to Denver - but damn a cold beer sounds awfully good right now - so you take the old timer up on his offer. The saloon has a nice-sized crowd, but the old timer is a regular, and he gets good seats. After a few beers, you notice a band called Rainville setting up. The old timer buys them a round of beers, as well as a few shots of whiskey - he gets the two of you a couple of shots as well. The band finishes their shots and begins playing - a smoky, bluesy alt-country filled set full of songs about drinking, losing, wandering, and drinking some more. The bartender is married to the owner, she calls you honey and pours you a shot on the house. She reminds you of every sweet-yet-tough old lady you've ever heard about. As you toast her, you can't figure out if the singer sounds more like Neil Young or Tom Waits so you go with both.

One of the local gals asks if you want to two-step to Lonely Everywhere. Despite your insistence that you don't know how, she offers to teach you - she's attractive, and Gary Brudos' almost honky-tonk style piano is catchy enough to put you at ease. Singer John Common is playing a country-blues guitar solo and singing amusing lines like just lonely enough to be charming, just bored enough to be witty and you are beginning to have a wonderful time. The band begins playing the slow, lament-filled Nothing In My Hat. As you slow dance with the attractive local girl, you realize you haven't even introduced yourself, you cad. Maybe it's because you're too intent on listening to that damn country-inspired piano, or the gospel-style organ that pops up occasionally in the background. Maybe it's the blues guitar solo or the slow, deliberate power chords, with just enough distortion. Whatever the reason, you find yourself totally immersed in the song - you can always introduce yourself later.

You may be a cad, but you are a gentleman - you are sure to kiss her hand in thanks before heading back to the bar for another shot. Another beer would be nice too. The band has picked the pace back up a little for Convenience Store Killer - a Neil Young-style country-rocker about a drug addict holding up a convenience store for drug money. The romantic sound of a steel guitar starts off Windows, and you look to dance with your girl again, but notice she's taken - her beau has shown up, and he's holding her tight on the dance floor. Ah, it's probably for the better, but that doesn't stop you from ordering another round and soaking in the sad piano that accompanies that addictive slide. As those haunting, twangy guitar chords play in the background, you mourn. Sure, it was just a dance - a local being friendly to the new guy - but it could have been so much more, and you sigh heavily.

Broken hearted, you order up another shot from your new favorite bartender - being sure to get a round for the old timer as well. The band starts playing Pass That Bottle Down - as good an idea as you've heard all night. You dig the almost jazzy beat that drummer Steve Richards and bassist Matt Sumner are playing - it fits in real well with the vibe-like keyboards and the subdued rock-a-billy guitar - and the piano solo sounds straight out of the cocktail lounge, not a saloon. Yet it's all working - "pass that bottle down, honey! One for everyone!" you are shocked to hear yourself shout.

Thank goodness it's getting close to closing time - the room is smoky and your vision is blurred. Rainville is playing Someone, a great late-night countrified rocker highlighted by a sizzling organ solo. It feels right, so you order up a round for the band and head onto the dance floor by yourself. Just because she broke your heart doesn't mean you can't have a good time, dammit! And it starts tonight!

You order one last round for you and the old timer before settling your tab with Honey. The band has announced that Evil Moon will be the final song of the evening - a Tom Waits-ish jazzy honky-tonk piano ditty that seems the perfect way to end the night. The old timer thanks you again for the ride, and heads out the door to hitchhike back home. Rainville thanks the crowd for coming, and asks everyone to drive safely on the way home. But you aren't planning on driving. The old pickup will be OK, and you won't need it any longer, anyway. Instead, you leave the keys in the ignition, then walk about a mile up the road, due east. There you hop a freight train and settle into an empty boxcar for the night. Doesn't matter where it's going, as long as it's going somewhere...

Want to learn about other Colorado Bands? Check out Solitary Sinners