There surely is tremendous inner tumult when you know you’ve got something extraordinary, know you’ve got something important to say — and can mentally hear it portrayed in a definite manner — but are restricted by auxiliary commitments.
Quentin Jones founded Pennsylvania’s Lanark Records. While that was to his individual credit, though, the label largely existed to give platform to other artists. Too, he has earned global plaudits for his strident guitar assertions with the Reach Around Rodeo Clowns; indeed, such is his ability that he now has a Gretsch endorsement. But that distinction also came from works bannering aggregate endeavors.
The Rockabilly Hall of Fame has recognized him for his studio and live toil with so many, including Robert Gordon, the Rockats, Herman’s Hermits, and the Gas House Gorillas. So, while it’s true that Quentin’s tasted fame, it’s often been as an adjunct to someone else’s project. One might say his lamp was often hidden beneath a bushel.
But, no more. In 2017, he’s busting out of the shadow world. Standing tall. Declaring out loud his own, unique artistic identity.
A disc is in the pipeline — one bearing his name alone, and not that of some collective. The demos he sent me are all of consistently superior quality. All peaks, no valleys. I guess fire comes in messes, ’cause there’s a mess of fire coming out of these songs.
Quentin’s formidable, party-crashing guitar jet-streams with amazing nimbleness through arrangements smartly reverential of the old while reinventing it as technicolor newness for contemporary climes.
He’s already planning shows as “Quentin Jones and Friends,” And numerous major names have signed on to sit in at various gigs: Annabelle Lwin (Bow Wow Wow), Dibbs Preston (Rockats), Billy Burnette, and Billy J. Kramer (of Beatles-related renown).
He’s known all along that he had something special. Now, the world’s going to know that, too.