It’s not just great song writing, warm guitars, a nut-tight rhythm section, and the occasional blues harp riffs that make The Stone Foxes’ so good; the Bay Area band consisting of brothers Shannon and Spence Koehler, and Aaron Mort have captured something else on their recordings and live shows that makes them huge, and very, very cool.
Listeners sense it right away. There’s a genuineness here that’s rare and refreshing, and it’s something that can’t be achieved simply by grabbing a couple of vintage axes and plugging into a stack of tube amps. Because while The Stone Foxes may be influenced by the greats of the late 60s and early 70s like The Band, Bob Dylan, and Led Zeppelin, they never sound like they’re trying to be anything but exactly who they are. But then they don’t need to: their style of blues-rock stands on its own.
Still though, there’s something about their sophomore album “Bears & Bulls” that sets it well apart from other records. And to understand what it is, what makes this record so unique, so good; you need to know how The Stone Foxes approach their music.
“We’ll never be a traditional studio band,” says Aaron.
“The songs are worked out on stage and are meant to be played live,” adds Shannon.
That makes perfect sense to anyone that’s been to one of their shows: it’s clear the Foxes care far more about performing their music for living, breathing human beings than an empty room filled with microphones.
So rather than holing up in a studio, writing songs in a void, then cutting an album and touring it, The Stone Foxes work their new material out on stage over a period of months, playing it for their fans. And that’s part of what makes their shows, and this new record, so special. Each song in their arsenal has evolved organically over time, taking on a unique personality while retaining the core DNA that makes it a Stone Foxes original. Every song, every lick, every fill on Bears & Bulls has had its own unique path to maturity, taking the energy and feedback from the live experience and making it a critical part of the music.
When it was time to cut the record, the band knew that in order to capture the real soul of the music it would be critical to maintain that energy, those unique aspects of each song. So Bears & Bulls was recorded with virtually no overdubs, at a studio they built themselves.
“We found mattresses, put them against our garage walls and used planks of wood as dividers. Then we played the songs live and let the sound bleed in the mics,” says Shannon.
As a result, Bears & Bulls is an audio snapshot of exactly who and where The Stone Foxes were musically when they recorded it. They were all living together, listening to the same records, and singer songwriter Avi Vinocur was a member of the band at that time. It’s a reflection of their live show and a tribute to the interplay between musicians and fans. It’s a moment in time captured digitally, then mixed by Alex Newport and mastered by John Cuniberti in beautiful, warm, old-school analog. Just like it should be.
Spence Koehler, who along with brother Shannon grew up in the Sierra Foothills before moving to the Bay Area a few years ago, points out another thing about the new record that makes it unique. “You know,” he says, “all the instrumentation on the recording is the same as it is live.”
Right, the instrumentation thing: The Stone Foxes don’t have a set lineup on instruments. Since each song is unique, who plays what changes depending on the song’s personality. Shannon may come out from behind the drums to sing and play harmonica. Aaron and Spence regularly swap rhythm, lead, and bass duties, and every member sings lead on at least a few songs. But it’s no gimmick: like everything The Stone Foxes do, the instrument and vocal changes are a function of the natural evolution of their music and what works best on each song.
“It doesn’t matter who writes the lyrics,” says Shannon, “if someone else has a better voice for the song, they sing it.”
And the way they play it live is the way it’s laid to tape.
So you’ve got this band of players that can actually play, writers that can actually write, none of whom seem to have much ego: it’s about the music and the band over all – not the individual. You turn them loose to create songs that evolve and mature over time, then you drop them in a studio to track a record on their own terms. As it turns out, what you end up getting is something way deeper and more heartfelt than most bands ever deliver.
You also get a hint of what they’ll become. Because this collection of songs, from the raucous fun of “Stomp” to the slow grind of “Through the Fire” from the bad ass lick that opens “Patience” to the down and dirty blues of “Mr. Hangman” could only have been created by a band that’s fearless about following their music where it leads, and has the skills to share what they learn on the trip. And it’s a trip they’re still taking: The Stone Foxes and their music continue to evolve, and continue to deliver live shows that blow the doors off of venues along the way.
When asked if there’s one thing that they want their fans to know, there’s no hesitation: they say they have a huge amount of fun playing live, loved capturing their work on the record, and that they wouldn’t be doing any of this if they didn’t.
Really though, that’s completely unnecessary to mention: one listen to the record, one visit to a gig, and all that is clear from note one.
Bio written by Bradford Schmidt
I Killed Robert Johnson
The Stone Foxes Lyrics
Jump to: Overall Meaning ↴ Line by Line Meaning ↴
When your bottle and your blues are all that you've got
I didn't want to do it, but he gave me no choice
I poisoned the whiskey that coated his voice
Guitar on the floor and my girl on his lap
So I topped off the bottle with more than a cap
And I killed Robert Johnson, just the same
I hired that colored boy to play his guitar blues
To entertain the white folks and I'd pay him in booze
Oh but it turned sour quickly when he went for my wife
Even Sonny Boy Williamson couldn't save his life
"Don't ever knock a bottle out another man's hand"
He got a slow painful ending under Mississippi land
Now I'm not saying he deserved it, oh for crossing the line
But I killed Robert Johnson, with strychnine
I'm lowdown, I'm lowdown, I'm lowdown (x4)
But he's dying
Oh I've kept my mouth shut awaiting my fate
It's trapped in the history of 1938
And as the men that knew Robert all died of old age
My secret grew lonelier like his music on a stage
I may never tell the public the reason he's dead
Only the Hell Hound can pull this truth from my head
I'm not saying I regret it after all of these years
But I killed Robert Johnson
I'm lowdown, I'm lowdown, I'm lowdown (x4)
But he's dying
The Stone Foxes's song "I Killed Robert Johnson" is a bluesy tribute to the famous blues musician who is believed to have sold his soul to the devil at the crossroads. The singer of the song tells the story of how he poisoned Robert Johnson's whiskey on a hot and humid night in Clarksdale, Mississippi, after he caught him with his girlfriend. The song's lyrics are full of guilt and regret but also convey a sense of inevitability - as if the singer had no other choice but to kill Johnson.
The first verse sets the scene of a sultry summer night in Mississippi, where the only thing to do is to drown your sorrows in a bottle of whiskey and listen to the blues. The second verse reveals that the singer is not just any blues lover, but a man who hired a black musician to play blues for him and his white friends in exchange for booze. However, things take a turn for the worse when the musician makes a pass at the singer's girlfriend, and he decides to take matters into his own hands.
The chorus of the song is a haunting repetition of the line "I'm lowdown, I'm lowdown, I'm lowdown," conveying the shame and guilt that the singer feels for killing a fellow musician. The song ends with a sense of closure, as the singer acknowledges that he may never be able to reveal the truth behind Johnson's death, but he will always carry the weight of his secret.
Line by Line Meaning
On a Clarksdale night, humid and hot
It was a hot and humid night in Clarksdale.
When your bottle and your blues are all that you've got
When all you have is your bottle and your blues music.
I didn't want to do it, but he gave me no choice
I didn't want to kill him, but he left me with no other option.
I poisoned the whiskey that coated his voice
I put poison in the whiskey he was drinking, that made it to his throat and caused his death.
Guitar on the floor and my girl on his lap
He was playing guitar on the floor with my girl on his lap.
So I topped off the bottle with more than a cap
I added more poison to his whiskey bottle.
When you poison men with alcohol, oh the liquor gets the blame
When you use alcohol to kill someone, it's the liquor that will be blamed.
And I killed Robert Johnson, just the same
I killed Robert Johnson in the process.
I hired that colored boy to play his guitar blues
I hired that black boy to play his guitar and sing the blues.
To entertain the white folks and I'd pay him in booze
I paid him with alcohol to entertain the white folks.
Oh but it turned sour quickly when he went for my wife
It all turned sour when he made a move on my wife.
Even Sonny Boy Williamson couldn't save his life
Even Sonny Boy Williamson, a famous blues musician, couldn't save his life.
"Don't ever knock a bottle out another man's hand"
I was told not to knock a bottle out of another man's hand.
He got a slow painful ending under Mississippi land
He died a slow, painful death and was buried under the ground in Mississippi.
Now I'm not saying he deserved it, oh for crossing the line
I am not justifying his death because he crossed a line.
But I killed Robert Johnson, with strychnine
But I killed Robert Johnson with a poison called strychnine.
I'm lowdown, I'm lowdown, I'm lowdown (x4)
I am ashamed of what I did and feel low for it.
But he's dying
He is dying from the poison I administered.
Oh I've kept my mouth shut awaiting my fate
I have kept quiet and am waiting for my fate to catch up with me.
It's trapped in the history of 1938
It's confined to the history of events in the year of 1938.
And as the men that knew Robert all died of old age
As the men who knew Robert Johnson die of old age.
My secret grew lonelier like his music on a stage
My secret became lonelier, like his music amidst the silence of an empty stage.
I may never tell the public the reason he's dead
I may never reveal to the public the reason why he died.
Only the Hell Hound can pull this truth from my head
Only a supernatural being, like the Hell Hound can force me to reveal the truth.
I'm not saying I regret it after all of these years
I am not saying I regret what I did after so many years.
But I killed Robert Johnson
But I am the one who killed Robert Johnson.
Contributed by Penelope H. Suggest a correction in the comments below.