Rosetta West - 'Gravity Sessions'

Some bands tidy up in the studio; Rosetta West turn the mics on and let the storm roll. Cut live at Chicago’s storied Gravity Studios, their newest EP of the same name delivers five performances that vibrate with the unpredictable hum of tube amps and human pulse.

The Illinois trio sound fiercely present. Joseph Demagore’s voice carries the weight of back-road sermons, while Herf Guderian’s bass lumbers like heavy machinery and Mike Weaver’s drumming snaps like downed power lines. Together they make roots music that feels aged in barrel smoke yet urgent as breaking news.

'Dora Lee (Gravity)' opens the set with a slow-burn ritual of slide guitar and ominous toms, but the real hook is the chemistry, as spaces widen, riffs collide, and everything settles into a thick, hypnotic pocket. Elsewhere, mid-tempo burners morph into bruised ballads without warning, proving the trio’s dynamic range is more instinct than calculation.

What gives these recordings their bite is the decision to keep imperfections. You hear fingers scrape, cymbals breathe, cables buzz; proof that music can still feel hand-made in a digital era. The lyrics, steeped in gothic folklore and small-town angst, arrive like half-remembered warnings from a roadside preacher. There’s menace here, but also redemption, often in the same line.

Rosetta West have always lived outside fashion cycles, and 'Gravity Sessions' reinforces that exile as virtue. While many retro-blues outfits polish away the grit for algorithmic approval, this EP leaves the dirt under its fingernails, and is far more compelling for it.