Doc Feldman & The LD50 - Sundown at the Station
After years of supporting other musicians and playing in bands, including his most recently defunct band, Good Saints, veteran multi-instrumentalist and singer-songwriter Derek “Doc” Feldman is releasing his first solo album Sundowning at the Station. The album was recorded by Jason Groves at Sneak Attack! In Lexington, Kentucky and is being released via This Is American Music on July 16th, 2013. Calling themselves “the LD50,” Doc enlisted the help of a few friends, including close friend and sometimes songwriting collaborator James Jackson Toth (aka Wooden Wand), to help fill out the sound.
Similar to an old, well-constructed house that has been lived in by lonesome, lost, and booze-lovin’ residents for centuries, each element on Sundowning at the Station serves its purpose and without one the others collapse. One might be tempted to listen to this album with a couple of pain pills and a shot of whiskey to numb the heartache, but the songs themselves serves as the vaccination from the real disease. Songs like the mournful “Ready” and the bluesy and bruised “Alive for Now” both sung with honesty and experience. Or there’s the earthy minimalist howl of “Can’t Quit You.” There’s the hardened and gritty “Cold Tile Floor” or lapsteel-laced “A Texas Moan,” both of which are collaborative songwriting efforts between Feldman and Toth. “A Texas Moan” has been re-worked here, but the song itself was originally released on a 7” vinyl split with Kill County when Doc and James were with Good Saints. Also of particular note is the weary yet hopeful “Battle Hymn” performed by Doc, but written by old friends and St. Louis, Missouri staples Brothers Lazaroff.
“Doc Feldman’s debut album Sundowning at the Station brings the gothic South front and centre. Find yourself immersed in a bluesy whiskey soaked ode to what real country should be…finally something to dig my teeth into again and again.” – Sandy Smith, Slowcoustic
“Doc Feldman’s new album sounds like the weary, worndown end of a dark barroom set. Tired, frustrated, and beaten, his songs are of a particularly compelling breed of Southern gothic. There’s hope there, but the kind of hope you find at the ass-end of a hot humid Southern day as you collapse on your bed for rest. There’s depth to these songs, and weight, and something that fills up your soul just a little bit.” – Devon Leger, Hearth Music