Coronado – Self-titled

Raised by parents who were never shy about sneaking their children into a smoky bar to catch a gritty live performance, I have a hard time remembering if it was my mother or my father who turned me on to the blues. Coming at them from completely opposite directions—my mother with her country music and honky-tonk roots, while my father’s music collection was imbued with Motown R&B and jazz—the blues seemed to complete my circle of musical progression.

That being said, I am increasingly skeptical of up-and-coming bands professing their command of that classic bluesy rock ‘n’ roll sound. I have sat through too many cover band bar performance ending in “Free Bird” to know that there are far too many young men who think they have what it takes to be the next Stevie Ray Vaughn. Fortunately, the newcomers to the budding Pittsburgh music scene, Coronado, seem to be above that. Their first full-length self-titled album is a cool blend of fuzzy rock and southern blues with a complete retro feel.

Their band page on Facebook could read as homage to Harry Nilsson, but the group is far grittier than the classic Nilsson sound, an aspect that could be one of their greatest strengths. Coronado is not without its shallow moments, which is to be expected for a first release of a young band. In particular, “The Souza Show,” with tejano trumpets and impudent lyrics, feels exaggerated. Yet, Coronado is at it’s best in it’s most delicate moments—tracks such as “the Great Divide” and “Lay Me Down” juxtapose subtly sensitivity lyrical moments with the band’s bristly sound.

But more importantly, this debut album proves that Coronado is more than just a pool hall band whose discography consists solely of under produced live albums. Instead they provide a crisp, new take on a classic sound, without coming off as another garage band imitation. Certainly $5 well spent via their Bandcamp page.