Sunday, June 27, 1999 | 4:26 a.m.
First published August 12, 1998.
It's 11:30 on a Wednesday night as I pull up to the Sand Dollar Blues Lounge and park. There's a moon and a light breeze out tonight, and the air has that perfect, invisible quality it gets when it's neither too hot out nor too cold--a temperature you can't feel at all.
The music emanating from within the Sand Dollar filters out to the parking lot; once inside, it thumps in my chest as I take a seat at the bar and accept a Sam Adams from gorgeous bartender Cheryl. As I look around, I notice that the familiar promo-picture-festooned green walls have been freshly painted black. The change gives the Sand Dollar a new atmosphere, one decidedly more like that of the gone-but-not-forgotten Fremont Street Reggae and Blues Club, generally remembered as one of the best live music clubs Las Vegas has ever seen.
A bit of nostalgia hits me as I survey the filled dance floor and full seating area--yep, the Dollar's doing good business tonight.
When the set breaks Rob Edwards, the Ruffnecks' affable bass player, joins me for drinks; we talk over the next few hours about his band, Las Vegas, and music in general. These days, the Sand Dollar is the center of the Las Vegas blues scene; and although the venerable John Earl and the Boogieman Band call it home on weekends, tonight it belongs--as it does every Wednesday--to the Ruffnecks, who hold court with a vengeance.
Vegas mainstays for ten years now, the Ruffnecks are always working--and if a live music club ever existed in Vegas during those ten years, the Ruffnecks probably played it. That includes several spots opening for national acts at the Hard Rock Hotel's Joint, at Boulder Station, at the aforementioned Fremont St. Reggae and Blues Club, at Junefest concerts, the Sand Dollar and Sam's Town. They play the Lee Canyon "Cruise to the Blues" festivals every summer, and take at least one extended out-of-town tour a month.
"We benefit from playing live (at the Sand Dollar) on Wednesdays because we can drive away on Thursday," says Edwards. "At the beginning of the month we played Oklahoma City on Friday night, Kansas on Saturday, then Omaha Sunday and Monday, then came back and played our Wednesday again."
That kind of work ethic and schedule would make many alterna-fluff bands cringe, but for the Ruffnecks--well, it's all about the next gig.
"There's money to be made with this genre of band--you just have to go out and get it," says Edwards. "I'm not saying that (staying in) Vegas isn't great, I'm just saying that with our genre--we picked it, now we have to live by it. We love it, and we're not gonna change."
Their "genre," while hard to define, is definitely a spicy one; it's changed some over the years, but these days it's hardened into a greasy Rockabilly, blues and roots rock combination, all poured into a tight four-piece accented by Edwards' standup bass. With two CDs under their belt and road experience comparable to many interstate truckers, the Ruffnecks--rounded out by Matt Finicchia on guitar, Brent Ballard on drums and Rob's brother Jason on vocals, piano and guitar--are definitely ready for the next level.
And the next level--as it has for so many bands lately--may have sprung from the EAT'M showcase at the Fremont Street Experience this past May.
"We only played a three-song set, because the generator blew up earlier," explains Rob. "So we were a little hotheaded on stage."
Too much aggression isn't necessarily a bad thing, though--it wound up attracting the attention of Andy Burke, a producer who's worked with Kathy Mattea, and a representative of Warner-Chappell Music Publishing. After talks and private showcases, Burke agreed to produce the band's third album.
"Really, we consider it our first," says Rob, "because of the money that will be put into it. We put about $10,000 into each record--he's talking about over $50,000 for this one to record and shop with."
And the material?
"It'll probably be a 'best of' from the first two albums, re-recorded and everything," says Rob. Hopefully that kind of budget will help capture the spirit of the Ruffnecks' live energy; as veteran performers that is, naturally, their greatest strength.
The first time I saw the Ruffnecks play was about five years ago, in some now-defunct Westside bar. I was drunk, but I still remember the sight of Rob Edwards lying on his back on stage with a six-foot stand-up bass cradled between his legs, laying down a fat-ass Cajun blues groove with his head stuck inside then-drummer Dalton Farmer's kick drum--while around him guitarist Matt Fenicchia ripped through a solo, singer Jason Edwards beat the keys through the piano and the whole band raged loud enough to wake up God.
"I actually remember that," smirks Rob through his beer. Things have changed since then. "We're definitely a lot harder now than we were three or four years ago," he says. "Anyone who's seen us lately knows it."
Bold as that statement may be, he's not lying. For anyone who hasn't seen them lately, that harder sound can be found all over "Burnt Again," their latest CD. Drawing on influences like the Reverend Horton Heat, The Paladins, Stevie Ray Vaughan and Led Zeppelin, The Ruffnecks forge a sound high on attitude and low on sweets. The instrumental attack of "Party at Rippers" verges on psychobilly; it's impossible not to move your head when Rob's hopped-up bass slaps drive Fenicchia's chicken picking that frenetically.
The slow, greasy rock slabs of Seventies guitar found on the title track, written by drummer Brent Ballard, couldn't get much heavier; neither could a gritty cover of Otis Blackwell's "Daddy Rolling Stone." Jason Edward's voice nails everything to the wall; although only twenty-seven, he sings with more emotion and authority than most blues/roots singers a decade older.
The Ruffnecks don't want to be mislabeled, though. They've taken a turn away from the blues since their 1995 self-titled debut, and now don't consider themselves a blues band at all. "When we started, we were a rockabilly band, pure and simple. Then we went to a roadhouse blues kind of thing, 'cause I guess we just got bored," explains Rob. "Now roots rock is the closest thing we are. But if any body thinks we're a blues band, they're dead wrong," he cautions.
Does the blues label get limiting if you're not just doing blues?
"We get stuck in a lot of blues clubs," he says. "They don't have many roots rock bands, if any, so we just slowly fool 'em. The first set we play stuff we think they'll appreciate--then they have a few drinks and start dancing, and the next thing you know we're playing everything we always play."
The guys feel good about calling Las Vegas home--for now. "The scene, as they say, is really good. I'm happy for it," says Rob. "I'm happy for Vegas. We're just ready to go to the next level." Despite their enthusiasm for the local "scene" though, the Ruffnecks don't really feel like part of it.
"I guess we're too old, and we're not in the same genre that most bands are in. We do talk to blues bands, but we're not in that genre either," says Rob.
So how would they describe their outlook?
"Flyin' the coop," jokes Rob.
This is a band who has been doing what it takes to make it for ten years now, and--far from not being part of the scene--have been fundamental working members of it for much longer than almost any other original band playing in Las Vegas today.
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