Taylor Hollingsworth will release his new record, Bad Little Kitty, on July 29th. A sideman for Maria Taylor and Conor Oberst (Taylor played guitar on Oberst’s forthcoming Merge solo debut), he recalls a Johnny Thunders-styled throwback or a Dexter Romweber-esque shredder. Armed with an arsenal of guitar slinging and grisly, thought-provoking songwriting, this boy-faced wonder echoes the gritty gist of some of the Southâ€™s greatest musical traditions.
Taylor Hollingsworth and his father, Wesley, would trek all over the South in a beat-up VW van, with the riffs of Tom Petty and Jerry Lee Lewis scratching out of cheap speakers as they hunted hang-gliding hotspots. “I think I got the bug for traveling from him,” says Hollingsworth, who’s prone to hitting the road on a moment’s notice. After having played as a lead guitarist in multiple US and European tours, Hollingsworth feels more at home in a van than he does in his hometown of Birmingham, Alabama. That’s not to say Birmingham hasn’t had its pull on Hollingsworth. Listen closely and you can hear the gritty echoes of the South’s greatest musicians in his guitar. Aside from his Southern influences, Taylor bleeds the snarling disposition of Black Francis, while his sneering bravado and riff-happy outlook can be attributed to the New York Dolls and MC5. With glam/psychedelia flourishes, but the lo-fi immediacy of The Stooges, Taylor’s vocals cut through the riffs of his songs like piano wire through a hunk of SPAM.
Unlike his birth, you canâ€™t call this delightfully haphazard approach to music â€œjust a happy accidentâ€. After busting G-strings for the likes of the Dave Grohl-produced Verbena, Cutgrass, and The Dexateens, Taylor has developed his own version of dirty, white trash rock that reflects a wealth of experience accumulated by a life in the blues.
Much like nacho cheese, his newest effort, Bad Little Kitty, is completely amazing, satisfying, and dirty as hell to boot. This high-powered voyage is a supped up spree through the squatter friendly warehouses and dives that populate his past. Jammed with acrobatic guitar solos and glam-y blues driven hooks, Taylor takes no prisoners in making a name for himself, home invasion style.
“I don’t really feel like I had any choice in being a musician,” he says. “It was that natural–I had to go down this road.”
Previous Press for Taylor Hollingsworth:
Forget bands like Jet: that stuff is played. I thought that someone gave Meg White a couple of uppers when I heard it. Taylor Hollingsworth has my vote for the anti-garage band of the year.
– Splendid Magazine
Birmingham, Ala.’s Taylor Hollingsworth and his backing crew don’t really care if you need another garage band like you need another four years of Bush. Not only do they not care, they are going to provide you one with the attitude of Bowie, the snarl of Black Francis and a foot the size of Shaquille O’Neal to kick you in the ass with, of course.
– Creative Loafing
Wow…I don’t know what to say? Taylor Hollingsworth’s “Shoot Me, Shoot Me, Heaven” is fucking brilliant, excuse my language. I love Johnny Thunders, Keith Richards, Izzy Stradlin, and Dinosaur Jr. more than anything in this world. Glad to know someone else appreciates them also.
– Jeff Clark, Daily Times Leader