The Past:
I reckon it’s desert fever that draws so many folks to Arizona. Or it might be something in the hot devil wind that whispers in their ears, calling out over the painted mesas, beckoning them to pack up their saddle bags and ride out West. Then again, maybe it’s just fated chance that led four heartland musicians to the dusty dives of Tempe, Arizona and into that twangy juggernaut that is Tramps & Thieves.
The group was founded by singer/songwriters J. Scott Howard and Emmett DeGuvera who slung their guitars over their shoulders and hit the trail west from them Motown, though they didn’t meet until they had both already hung their hats in the warmer climes of the Valley of the Sun.
Good fortune and long nights at the local waterin’ holes brought them together with bassist Andy Jensen, a native of Minneapolis, Minnesota. Andy found he had more sand than snow in his blood and hit the ground runnin’, his feet giving out just in time for him to slide onto a bar-side stool down at good ol’ Long Wongs. The gang’s rounded out by the likes of old friend Ryan “Skydog” Ferguson, an Ohioan from Columbus. Skydog’s a film-scoring multi-instrumentalist, with a talent for behemoth drumming.
The Present:
Drawing on the outlaw style of Waylon and Willie; the cosmic American songsmithing of Gram Parsons; the alt-country vibe of Uncle Tupelo, Whiskeytown, and the Jayhawks; and the swaggerin’ classic rock of the Eagles, The Band, Creedence Clearwater Revival, The Rolling Stones, Black Crowes and Neil Young, Tramps & Thieves have a unique sound that’s fresh as an ice-cold beer on a summer day, as potent as a snort of White Mountain moonshine, and, all at once, as comfortable as a broken-in pair of cowhide boots.
The Future:
The future’s bright for the Tramps & Thieves boys: they’re in the midst of recording their debut E.P. as we’re here conversating. The band makes each gig they play one not to be missed, so check them out soon in AZ, as well as the rest of the Southwest. You never know, before the night’s out you just might find yourself up on stage, singing along to their ragged brew of old-fashioned country sincerity and Midwestern musical muscle. Much stranger things have happened.
