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Above all else, The Radiators are a gig band. Blues, no doubt; Cajun, yes, Swamp-boogie, absolutely: a mix of guitar-driven Swamp vibe meets formula-driven, but distinctive, rock and roll. Whatever you want is all there—The Radiators' musical stew—as befits a true home grown New Orleans band. In some ways they are like their grander musical cousin, Credence Clearwater Revival; they excel at everything, and so don't stand out in any one area. As Springsteen said about Credence, "they weren't the coolest, just the best."
The Radiators aren't the best, just the coolest, but only when you hear them live. Put them in the studio and they cut a distinct groove, indeed. But it's being on the road—in front of people, performing against the hum and jangle of a local bar or dive—that makes The Radiators one of the great, if not greatly known, bands of our time.
1987's Law of the Fish is, by consensus, their best studio work. But their truly great work, what you pay the price of admission for, is, well, what you pay the price of admission for: to see them and hear them. Other than The Grateful Dead—surely the most self-indulgent rock band of our time—The Radiators represent perhaps the largest chasm between the live versus the playback experience. Live is better, and with The Radiators it's not even close.
Which is why Radz Records has done all of us a favor by releasing the 2-disc Wild & Free, 28 songs that represent special performances, mostly in front of crowds, of some of The Radiators' best work. A few of the songs are previously unreleased, and two new tunes—"Where Was You At?" and "Girl With the Golden Eyes"—were written especially for the release. But buy Wild & Free for its many live performance pleasures; everything else is thrown in just for good measure.
Or look at it this way: The Radiators are a band that has been together for 30 years with no—that's right, zero—personnel changes, and they've had always to tour and travel to support themselves and to flog their records. Thirty years together makes for an easy and mystical chemistry, and that is clearly evident on Wild & Free. It's one of those rare albums that allow us to feel the performance as much as to hear it. That is, in fact, what it's about: you listen, and these guys are playing at so and so juke joint, maybe just down the street. You can smell the sweat and feel the vibe. Someone's throwing up in the bathroom. "Ok, let's set this next one up for you. It's about…" Well, you get the idea.
I've long admired The Radiators for their longevity and their ability to perform the way Spenser Tracy said all artists should: know your lines and don't knock into the furniture. The Radiators may not scream and shout to be heard, but you'll nonetheless feel them long after the gig's over. Wild & Free allows us this privilege, and we'd be fools to ignore it.
You might even become a fish head and follow them around.
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