The Ike Reilly Assassination is the best American rock band on the scene today.

If this sounds like a bold overstatement chances are you missed the most illustrious album of 2007, We Belong to the Staggering Evenings.

On the third offering from the Ike Reilly Assassination, Ike takes the group’s purely Americana brand of unrestrained and unapologetic rock n’ roll to an entirely new plain of existence.

Since Ike released his solo début – Salesmen and Racists – in 2001, and later his first record with the Assassination – the stellar Sparkle in the Finish (2004) – he and his band have been unexplainably muddled in indy obscurity.

Combing elements of early rock n’ roll, early punk, early pop, bluegrass, folk, R&B, jazz, honky tonk, gospel and 1960’s garage rock in an amazingly fluent, legitimate, and prolific matter, Ike has fine tuned his unique and challenging take on his craft like never before on Evenings.

Combined with his Ray Davies-like observant, sarcastic, and pessimistic lyrics and tied together by an uncanny ear for melody and a good hook, Ike Reilly sets himself apart as a truly unique singer, songwriter, and musician.

Perhaps the most enticing aspect of Ike’s records — and specifically Evenings — is the massive accessibility of the music, especially for those with more eclectic musical leanings.

When listening to his work one can easily tell the different music Reilly has digested; a feature that helps to establish a link of commonality with his audience that is rare in today’s music landscape. Dylan, Beck, the Violent Femmes, the Clash, the Beatles; elements and influence from these groups – groups usually close to the hearts of the truly eclectic music fans – are all heavily present in his music.

The condition that sets Reilly and his band far and above his contemporaries in the American rock scene is their ability to combine those various elements to create a totally new and original conglomerate.

This is not Oasis doing their best Beatles imitation (and I do like Oasis) or Bloc Party channeling Joy Division and the Talking Heads. Reilly isn’t capable of imitation. He is far too adamant about making his own statement with his music; a determination he doesn’t attempt to mask and, in fact, wears proudly on his torn shirt sleeve.

A spiraling whirlwind of buzz-saw guitars and raspy vocals laden with Ike’s signature brand of biting social and political commentary, Evenings is a rock n’ roll masterpiece that seems destined to be buried with the likes of Big Starr and Captain Beefheart in the forgotten bin of artistic obscurity.

There is literally not a weak track on this ingenious offering. Opening the record Reilly wastes no time flexing his muscular repertoire on the frantically paced barn burner “Eight More Days ‘till the 4th of July.”

Plugged in and ready to thrash, Ike rips out nasty R&B riffs, torn through the fabric of time from deep into past, conjuring the spirits of rock n' roll ghosts from 1958. 

The band roars hard right out of the gates, demonstrating an immediate authority and maturity, powerfully illustrating one of the ranging polar heights that the band is capable of attaining.

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