Hey Negrita Burn the Whole Place Down Review

Caught on the wing, this fourth full-length offering from London-based six-piece Hey Negrita glints and gleams with all the fabulous, flinty beauty of an uncut diamond.

Burn the Whole Place Down takes the country-blues revivalists into spur-of-the-moment acoustic territory with a dozen tracks laid down in just five hours and left to fend for themselves. Free from second takes, overdubs or edits, the result is noticeably less feisty than the band’s signature sound, what lead vocalist Felix Bechtolsheimer describes as “a drunken racket”. But it is none the less captivating.

We Dreamed America, the title of last year’s award-winning documentary on the thriving British Americana scene, tells you everything you need to know about the method and message of Hey Negrita’s tuneful musical manifesto. And in Bechtolsheimer’s frayed velvet, gravel-lined voice these dark-hued, world-weary, moonshine-soaked tales of love gone sour take on a pointed poetic immediacy. Think Johnny Cash covered by Credence Clearwater Revival, or mid-period Dylan in a jaundiced waltzing delirium with John Lee Hooker.

Richie Kayvan’s hands-off production frames a band in perfect harmony with itself while spotlighting dazzling contributions from all concerned. Where Will Greener’s hauntingly wounded harmonica howls forlornly at the moon, Paul Sandy’s double bass provides a brooding blood-pulse to proceedings while Neil Findlay’s rattling, railroad-track percussion keeps things moving with involving impetus.

Bechtolsheimer’s and Matthew Ord’s Tennessee-accented guitars weave the patchwork quilt of melodies together with telling threads of bluegrass, country rock and tortured romance.

Magnificent from start to finish.