MAXIMUM VOLUME
Andy Thorley -May 18, 2026
This past Saturday, on the streets of our nation’s capital, an estimated 60,000 far-right morons marched to “reclaim the kingdom” or some nonsense.
Coked-up Tommy Ten Names claimed it was millions. Loads of MAGA types spent the day posting pictures to prove it too. Except the picture they were all sharing wasn’t from London at all. It was a Shakira concert in Rio.
The scary part is that they all appear to believe this stuff. The even scarier part is that, in the post-truth age, it doesn’t even seem to matter that it’s a lie.
Which makes “Demokracy Blues” feel less like an album and more like a necessary act of resistance.
The Right Reverend Crow is Nathan Bell, but this is more than an alias. The Reverend is Bell’s offering to the blues that have fed him since the earliest days of a musical career that now stretches back more than half a century. Five years after the first appearance of The Right Reverend Crow, Bell reconvened the rhythm section of Frank Swart and Alvino Bennett at Skunkworks Studio in Capitola, California, and together they have made something that sounds old, angry, righteous and horribly current.
“What Time It Is” is blues and soul, and righteously pissed off. This revolution is being televised, but do enough people care? That question hangs over the whole record like a threat.
“A Woman” deals with violence against women and girls in a way that recalls something Jim Jones might have done: bleak, furious, and impossible to look away from. “Downhearted And Blue”, featuring Sean “Mack” McDonald, feels like the human condition writ large in 2026, while the guitar work is utterly sensational.
“The Devil Lives In Bargain Town” uses spoken-word delivery to increase the sense that this is a conversation we need to have. “Your dreams are gonna kill ya, your hopes will do the same,” he says, and there is no comfort coming. “Governor Lee” is the haves and have-nots, the many and the few. The governor is fine. Was it ever thus?
“Hard Worker” is a classic-sounding blues song with working-class struggle writ large, and eventually you’ve got to transgress. “How, How, How” somehow taps into something visceral and primal, while “Heavy Like That” might contain the key to the whole thing: “nobody wants to die, but we all know we will, cos it’s heavy like that.”
“Roll (Right Over You)”, featuring Tamara Mack, is perhaps the most indignant the record gets. A change is coming. “Hot Tub Shark” suggests the agitation is in the solos too, before “Talking Pandemic Blues” lands with the weary shrug of “and didn’t we all?”
“It’s A Wonder (What People Will Do)” is a salute to those just trying to make ends meet, and “You Say Nothing (Demokracy Blues)” closes with a lifetime of subservience ringing in its bones.
As Woody had it, and as Billy Bragg and Wilco brought back to life: all you fascists are bound to lose.
But Christ, it does help to know you’re not alone.
RATING: 9/10
