Track Dogs celebrate 20 years on the track, as they cast their catchy field wider than ever. The best mariachi ragtime band in the world?

YES, WE HAVE NO MAÑANAS

Whilst this quartet may be as authentically Madrileño as Madri beer, at least they actually live there, even if the road may seem equally their base, such their prodigious touring and playing. Issuing albums, too, at a rate of knots, this wasn’t supposed to appear until next year, but, in the can, why wait? No need for mañana when we have today!

Sounding like the intro to a joke, these two Irishmen, an Englishman and a Yank, have, over a few short years, proved a popular and persuasive draw, making friends and influencing people across any number of folk festival stages, with a busy tour ethic cementing their name. Yet this is actually their 20th year of being, building up, slowly and surely, a head of polished steam before “overnight fame”, in 2022, as they hooked up with Show of Hands for a run of shows and a joint live album. We like ’em here, at ATB, following recent progress with relish, as album after album billow forth.

IT’S FUN

Handclaps and mariachi trumpet introduce the album with The Right Side (of History), with Garret Wall’s vocal just on the cusp of a warning wail. The sound is more layered than before, with piano and mandolin joining also the guitar, brass, bass and cajón percussion that is the core of the band sound. There is also the sound of a quijada in there too, an instrument I had to google, recommending you do the same. A catchy bouncy number around the pitfalls of, or not, fence sitting as the world unravels. It’s fun, and I can imagine the quartet on stage, trying to synchronise the handclaps, possibly failing.

Rhythm remains important, as it is with Robbie K. Jones frantic hands that Hardest Of Hearts then opens. Cajón is actually much more than hammering a tea crate whilst you sit on it, yet he can make it look just like that. Wall starts to sing, with a first stanza before trumpet, uke and bass join. Another veiled warning about the present: “I watched your halo catch fire, as you had gone too far“. An early comment is how well has Howard Brown’s horn playing has developed. Having previously displayed perhaps a touch too much of his English reserve, tending to imbue his play with some school assembly stiffness, now he has relaxed fully into the more latin influences that his adopted home abounds in. Dave Mooney’s bass is, as ever, a tremendous anchor that can also bubble with unexpected inventiveness.

PASS AGG PASSION

More percussion, fittingly, for Stomping Ground, again with handclaps, this time evocative of a flamenco show, which contrasts well with a first appearance of Jones’ banjo. Little more than a unison chant, it displays well the vocal choir the four have within them, and will be another live scorcher. If you can imagine the Ozark Mountain Daredevils, transplanted to the Seite Picos, well, that’s the vibe. It is then followed by the frankly astonishing I’ll Take You Home. Never has a pick-up song been so gloriously passively aggressive. Set to strictly ragtime, Brown’s trumpet is all ragged Satchmo, as Jones tells the tale of a possibly typical night out at Shrewsbury’s Folk Festival, referencing both the Berwick Bar and the morning coffee cart. Wall plies a rolling piano part and tongues are all, hopefully, fixed firmly in cheeks.

Mooney opens the title track with some neat bass perambulations. a wry reflection on the risks of music and the road as a career choice. There is a hint of Irish seeping through this one, the cajón mimicking a bodhran. Whether it is a sad song or a song of triumph is hard to gauge, a sense of helplessness, of what can you do, arguably the take home message. A change of mood for the agreeable Motown-lite of Mirror, Mirror, with Wall channeling his inner Smokey. Hammond organ, from Yago Fernandez fills out the sound, with a Brown and Mooney middle eight that adds to the uplift in this change of style.

PUB ROCK FIT FOR A CANTINA

Not for the first time I am minded of Brinsley Schwarz for Scoop, like an acoustic version of the pub rock pioneers, who could also flit between styles wth precision and ease. This is almost doo-wop, and there is a hint of Nick Lowe both vocally and in the self-deprecatory lyric, here and elsewhere. The electric piano, from Mooney, is tremendous, evocative too of sweaty nights down the Hope and Anchor. Back to mariachi central and a cover, Who Were You Thinking Of, a cheesy Europop meets Doug Sahm serenade. Simon Care adds some splendid Sierra Madre squeezebox and a Javiolin, whoever he, some applicably cantina fiddle, the whole a wonderful excursion and diversion. It is also Mooney’s first lead vocal for the band.

WORLD FAMOUS IN OHIO

Catching Rockies is another trad jazz banger, with more ragtime than Alexander’s famous band. Based on a poem by a George P. Wakefield, amongst other things a longtime columnist for various press outlets in Vermilion, Ohio, which is, coincidentally, or rather not, the home town of Jones. It is about fishing. Having had Wall, Jones and Mooney all taking a crack at lead vox, as they style it, it is only fitting that Brown gets a turn, which he does for Don’t Make It Easy, albeit in harmony with Wall. Again there is an easy going power pop sensibility, with a hooky bass.

This leads then, if unexpectedly, into a fairly straight acoustic romp through Steve Young’s Seven Bridges Road, best known in the version by Eagles. If it sounds broadly similar to the US platinum sellers, reflect on this: their arrangement was based almost wholly on an earlier version by Iain Matthews, the ex-Fairport and Southern Comfort man. So who better than Matthews to guest on this version, along with his current right hand man, BJ Baartmans, on slide guitar. That knowledge elevates the song, yes, as well as showing off the strength of the TD’s vocal backline.

ANOTHER COVER TO CLOSE

Another cover to close, and another guest vocal, if each from a surprising source, as Thin Lizzy might not seem an obvious template to which the band might be drawn. That said, The Sun Goes Down, Lizzy’s last single, translates very well to a trumpet and banjo led arrangement. The vocal comes from Peter M. Smith, a stage actor who has played Phil Lynott in “Moonlight; the Phil Lynott Enigma”, both in the West End and the subsequent tour. Perhaps a little lighter in tone than Lynott, it is a decent version of a song I confess I missed at the time, in 1983. Anchored by Mooney’s bass, it is a lovely way to bookend this album.

20 NOT OUT

From, originally, the Garrett Wall Band through now to Track Dogs, 20 years isn’t a bad trajectory to be standing on the brink of wider acclaim, although the quirky MO the band adopt may keep them more in the niche of festival favourites. Heck, they may even prefer that, unless the world sees suddenly fit to go overboard for a good timey mariachi ragtime hybrid. Which would be cool. They launch the album with a tour, as here. I can’t think of better way to warm your cockles as the winter trickles slowly in.

Meanwhile, here’s the answer to what an Englishman, two Irish and a Yank, all Spanish based, might have to do with Thin Lizzy. Features Peter M. Smith, another Iberio-Irishman, one who calls Tarragona his home.

(In passing, is this the first review ever not to mention the extravagant facial hair of Mr Jones, seemingly also 20 years old?)

Track Dogs: Website

At The Barrier: Facebook /  X  / Instagram