Receive Weekly Email and Text Message Updates:
Sign up for latest info on concerts, dining, promotions and more!
Go!

Most Popular

Reader's Picks

Top Recommendations

A short list of San Francisco's most popular hot spots.
user content provided by: LikeMe.net & SF Weekly

National Features >

  • City Pages

    Michele Bachmann, Unmuzzled

    You don't need to read Sarah Palin's book to hear the ravings of a mad woman.

    By Matt Snyders

  • Miami New Times

    Pimp Daddy

    The rise and fall of a chubby sex-cult leader.

    By Natalie O'Neill

  • Riverfront Times

    Babe 'n' Arms

    Tom was a hot-tempered cross-dresser with a garage full of guns--and then he became Rachel.

    By Nicholas Phillips

  • Dallas Observer

    The Fight for Texas

    Rick Perry and Kay Bailey Hutchison are locked in a battle over the soul of the GOP. They're also running for governor.

    By Sam Merten

The Dutchess and the Duke

She's the Dutchess, He's the Duke (Hardly Art)

Share

  • rss

By Jennifer Maerz

Published on August 12, 2008 at 10:09am

She and Him isn't the only country-folk duo out there pining for the simpler highs, lows, and harmonies of the olden days. Seattle's the Dutchess and the Duke pairs a young guy (Jesse Lortz of the Fe Fi Fo Fums) and gal (Kimberly Morrison, who has played with the Intelligence, the Fallouts, and the Unnatural Helpers). Together they use acoustic guitar and tambourine percussion to whip up the year's sweetest batch of black-and-blue ballads.

Morrison and Lortz came together musically after years in the Northwest garage rock scene, which may explain their affinity for not lacquering these tracks with much polish. Unadorned with neither ProTools nor preciousness, the songs on She's the Dutchess, He's the Duke carry a raw Stones edge, especially in Lortz' Mick Jaggerish bad-boy drawl. But the pair is by no means aping stylish rock 'n' roll predecessors. Songs about screwing in a phone booth ("Strangers") and everything inside being all wrong ("I Am Just a Ghost") are equal parts tough and tender, Morrison's songbird lilt lifting Lortz' rougher edges. Each of these sweetheart singalongs is notable for the strength of its simplicity – whether it's the whistling that buffets "Armageddon Song" or the faint flute melody laced around "You Can Tell the Truth, Now," this record is genuinely, charmingly old-fashioned fun. Jennifer Maerz