Just posted: An interview with The Whipkey Three. Matt, Sarah and Zip talk about the origin of the band, the new album and the trials and tribulations of balancing a relationship with a music career (read it here). The trio celebrates the release of their self-titled debut LP this Saturday at Slowdown Jr. with It’s True. Could this be the album that finally takes Whipkey to the next level? Tomorrow, pt. 2 of the story in the form of this week’s column. Bring a Kleenex.

Lazy-i intern Brendan Greene-Walsh finally has come through with some CD reviews, which I’ll be sprinkling into the blog over the next few days. Here’s the first one:

Brightblack Morning Light, Motion to Rejoin (Matador) — The best way to describe it is to offer up an unlikely (if not impossible) set of circumstances and ask that you come along on a short journey. Imagine it’s the late ’70s and we’re in Tennessee. We stumble upon an opium den where a house lounge act is performing. This band — the only band that could ever fit this incredulous place in this dubious time — is Brightblack Morning Light. The air is dense and motionless, like the majority of the apathetic clientele. The band plays through the haze of smoke, barely noticeable. Their sound is subdued and sparse. A vintage Rhodes piano stands at the center of the music along with ambient drums and horn swells that come and go as they please. Nothing about this album seems forced, and that’s a bit deterring. With songs averaging around the six-and-a-half-minute mark, things eventually become monotonous. Rating: No. — Brendan Greene-Walsh

Tim Sez: Yeah, it does feel like a ’70s drug jam played in slow motion submerged under water. The only thing missing is Chan Marshall stoned out of her mind, mumbling the lyrics. Instead, give praise to the super-high gospel singers testifying to what, I don’t know, since it all sounds like one long slur. I assume it has something to do with dope. And like any good narcotic, it’s guaranteed to put you right to sleep. Now where did I put those black light bulbs? Rating: No.

Speaking of reviews, I went to see Ian Moore last night at The Waiting Room. I knew virtually nothing about him other than having listened to his most recent CD on LaLa yesterday. I come to find out that he’s a guitar virtuoso, a legend that built a following in his youth as some sort of blues guitar messiah who once opened shows for the Rolling Stones, Dylan and ZZ Top, among others. I guess that reputation was what drew so many older folks to the show — the place looked like a Cialis commercial, and I halfway expected Moore to break out a cover of “Viva Viagra.” I will say this for these older blues fans — they get into the music a helluva lot more than the standard slumped-shouldered indie rock slacker who looks like he just woke up before the show and only went because someone promised him he could go back to sleep right afterward. A couple of these blues fans were actually dancing (again, Cialis commercial). After spending years watching young musicians who barely know how to tune their guitars, it was a pleasure to watch Moore tear it up, spurred on by whoops from the crowd. He’s a master musician, and his songwriting isn’t bad, either. While I enjoyed his take on pop rock (reminiscent of Big Star and Tommy Keene), the songs were eclipsed by the performance, which included a guy on keyboards who also played trumpet at the same time. While I left the show impressed with what I’d just heard, I couldn’t tell you what a single song was about, nor did I have any interest in finding out.

Tonight at Slowdown Jr., it’s Boston psyche-rock band Apollo Sunshine with Vinyl Haze. $8, 9 p.m.

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