World Gone Wild by Ron Rogers & The Wailing Wind (2019, self-released)

By Phil Favorite
That Much Further West Podcast

Before he sank his feet into rich soil of the Pacific Northwest roots rock scene, Ron Rogers survived a spell working a variety of music business gigs in Los Angeles.

In that time he saw the best and worst of the industry, spending countless hours in the studio as an engineer, working for labels in various roles, and all the while working to perfect his craft as a songwriter and guitarist.

But nothing he experienced in L.A. or since moving to Portland has washed clean the Texa-delic blood he was baptized in as a younger man, and which infuses the sound of his band, The Wailing Wind, and their current album, World Gone Wild.

The band’s third album is a delightful throwback to the late ’60s, when Texas-based bands made bold musical statements on par with anything that came out of the Summer of Love scene in San Francisco. But unlike the wild head trips of The 13^th Floor Elevators and the would-be hippy anthems of the Sir Douglas Quintet, Ron Rogers & The Wailing Wind deliver an upscale, more straightforward psychedelia that’s built for modern clubs and is perfect Internet radio.

It’s colorful, it’s danceable, and it rocks.

Credit goes to the whole cast of characters who make up the The Wailing Wind. Drummer Chris Bond and bassist Don Campbell provide the luscious groove, and a rotating lineup of lead guitarists including Chris Viola, Grant Cumpston and Mark Bowden deliver the twists that turn the record into a thrill ride.

But it’s the presence of backup singer Deborah Giles that adds a whole new element to the Wailing Wind sound. She joined the band after release of the band’s eponymously titled 2013 album, and has been riding shotgun alongside Rogers at the front of the band ever since.

Sometimes bold, often haunting, Giles’ voice is the perfect foil to Rogers’ creaking-door tenor.

Her presence is felt right off the top with the album opener “Ride On Baby,” which sets the trippy tone from the get-go. On “Slave Boy,” Rogers shows off his talent for clever wordplay, where the protagonist (antagonist?) proclaims, “I can wear these chains and shackles, and make you think they’re the latest style.”

The ride is mostly wild throughout but well balanced by some sweeter moments, including the tender ballad “Let Me Know.” But eventually all roads lead to Texas, where the “Flames of Waco” and “Beulahland” reveal a history both somber and foot-stomping.

Just goes to show, you can take the boy out of Texas, but you can’t take Texas out of the boy.