Will you "ROLL THE DICE" with Dirt Miller?
If Someone goes by Dirt Miller and their sound isn't gritty and dusty I'd be terribly disappointed, fortunately, this grungy troubadour based out of L.A. isn't geared for disappointment, and his newest single -ROLL THE DICE- sure knows how to impress. He's been described as "Alt-Folk" before, and there's certainly a very rugged folkish flavor to both his lyrics and the steely strumming of his guitar, an instrument that he seems so proficient in that one could easily assume he's been classically trained in it by a serious master guitarist. The way that Miller presents himself is instantly recognizable, he even carries himself like a dustbowl-migrant-turned-rockstar. One part ZZ top, One part Rob Zombie and two parts Wesley Schultz; they say you never judge a book by its cover, but he knows what he's about and he looks the part too. Dirt miller is the archetypal rambling troubadour with boots caked in the dust of the great American southwest, with its arid soil and lonesome roads stuck to his messy dreadlocks like the idea of the desperado in the collective consciousness across many generations.
What I'm saying is that Dirt Miller looks and sounds like a Rock & Roll Hobo. And I say that in the best possible way. Though well desert-shod, he draws even today from the wellspring of Blues, Folk, and Rock & Roll. I even expected "ROLL THE DICE" to take on hints of Punk or heavy metal like a Hank III song at some point, and with a voice that's somewhat reminiscent of Dave Mustaine, I'm sure he'd fit right in if he wanted to. A consummate Songwriter, Dirt Miller bases most of what he writes on his lived experiences, and With "ROLL THE DICE" we get to listen to the cautionary tale of his Fool's gamble, in which the eternal struggle of the Rockstar against the same vices and excesses that often fuel the -romanticized- a lifestyle we often identify with them and often even get to envy. All's not a party and a celebration of life " I made friends with the demon / lost all control," he laments, reflecting on the heinous toll that a wanton lust for thrills can inflict. To set the stage for this amazing release, Miller went out to the abandoned mining town of Rhyolite, a little ghost town in Death Valley, Nevada. The haunting backdrop of this now-dead place makes for some truly haunting imagery punctuated by the Foot-stomping rhythmic section, while raw emotional undertones in the lyrics mirror the unforgiving and inhospitable nature of the desert.
FOLLOW DIRT MILLER
Photo by: Dianne Copeland
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