Country Risque brings a certain rapscallion energy to their album, Doe-Eyed Loverboys & Saints, that is reminiscent of ur-queer country artist Lavender Country. As we discussed in their Pride of Place interview, the band’s commitment to keeping San Francisco weird is a big part of this aesthetic. This is a band that remembers the grit and grunge and cruising culture of the Bay Area that’s still there if you scratch beneath the surface. Doe-Eyed Loverboys & Saints is queer as in fuck you, and Country Risqué’s easygoing groove makes that attitude quite drinkable.
The album kicks off with the luxuriant “Drove Me Crazy,” a boot-tapper (the band’s too mellow for stomping) about the pleasures of cruising. The flip side of that coin arrives in “Autumn Of Your Charm,” about a guy who htinks he still has it — but is lovable nevertheless. There’s an ironic twist of the lip here — not quite a smile or smirk — on songs like “Depression Drawer” and “Sad Sad People.”
After all, is it really country if there’s no tears in beers? Country Risque lives up to its name, with country songs about the cowboy-like freedom of hookup culture as well as its lonelier side. These songs lope along with a sense of finality — the party isn’t over, but it’s winding down. And there’s beauty in those moments.