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I relish a risk. I'll root for an underdog. I'll dive in a different direction. I'll play on the edge.  And I'll sample a new band.  That's why when I saw their name and tag (blues rock), I bit.  

Raging Grace just sounds, well&risky.  And I was right.  Like a Texas tornado this band blew the roof off my expectations.  I counted on some solid blues.  Perhaps a great lyric or a brief burst of brilliance in one or two songs.  But I never figured an unknown, unsigned independent band could crank out this solid of an effort.  

From the opening (and might I add, blistering) southern rocker "Heads Up" (ala Molly Hatchet) to the closing "Sorry Again," Raging Grace rocks and rolls, sizzles and swings.  The band borrows licks from Stevie Ray Vaughan ("Good To Me") and chops from B.B. King ("Flood Plain") as they ramble through a slough of scorching blues rock.  They even cook up an Allmanesque worship song ("Satisfied").  Stephen Bell's guitar fills are fun and furious.  Dean Shannon's bass lines and Dave Cheney's backbeats result in more than one memorable moment (there's even bagpipes to bring the "Flying To the Foot" to a nice conclusion).

Lyrically, the power trio lays down a variety of messages, ranging from the hunger for a Savior (“Sin Sick”) to the need for,…well,…raging grace (“Curb of Affliction”).  Toss in a couple love songs (“Married Man Shuffle” and “Light Me Up”), a Bible story (“No Room at the Inn”) and a raucous hymn (“Nothin’ But The Blood”) and you’ve got a balanced effort.   You can even sense the spiritually paralyzed in “Satisfied”:  "You have put a ring upon my finger/you have chased confusion from my mind/if I can only touch Your robe, I know my world will flood with hope and I shall be satisfied."

The bottom line is I like Raging Grace.  And I think you will too.  But there’s little doubt the boys are at their best when they burn the blues.  The straight shooting “Ninevah” could be some of the best Christian blues ever laid down.  It’s raw.  It’s juiced.  And it hits you in the heart as a prodigal comes home: "Thirteen years of wasted living, trying to drown his gentle call/Thirteen years of painful living, face first into the wall/Jesus I hear you knocking on my heart’s door/Come on in, You’re welcome here, I’m not running anymore"

Amen, boys.  I’m glad you aren’t.  And I’m glad I bit.

Rick Chromey September 22, 2002