Horse Cave Trio does. I saw this group recently at a bar with no dance floor to speak of, and an ever-growing crowd of middle-aged hipsters took to their feet anyway, jostling elbows during the too-short set. With no promotional materials, website, explanation of its odd name, or full-length album, Horse Cave Trio wouldn't normally have come to my attention yet. But I know who Ron DeVore is, and when I heard he was in a new rockabilly trio that was impressing rock DJs, motorcycle gangs, and horror-movie host "The Ghoul," I had to be there.
"Ronnie D," as he was introduced to me over a decade ago, has carried off the same sexy rockabilly swagger, complete with dyed-blond pompadour, all this time. And with the maturity of family life, a varied professional music career, and this return to his roots, Ronnie is hotter than ever. As front man on vocals and bass, DeVore is a consummate performer, eating up the crowd with his Chuck Berry moves, squeals and shouts, and groovin' bass, accented by pointy-toed boots and tight black jeans.
He sometimes turns around and plays to the drummer, as though so caught up in the cool sounds they're making together he's forgotten about the crowd. But then he'll flip back to the microphone and belt out "Long distance information, give me Memphis, Tennessee" for all he's worth. He knows how to mimic the vocal stylings of Elvis or Jerry Lee. He can hit the high notes with precision. And he carries off the blues like a man who knows about broken hearts and after-hours brawls.