“This rollin’ ripper gets under your skin and in your veins without asking permission… and trust me, you’ll love it.” — Turn Up The Volume
Chicago’s Trickshooter Social Club have always lived in the space where grit meets storytelling. With Porchlight Pie, the band delivers a roots-rock EP that feels weathered, lived-in, and fully aware of the strange contradictions of modern America. It’s a record built on stomp, sweat, and reflection—where garage rock energy collides with country instrumentation and blues-driven soul. At its core, Porchlight Pie continues the band’s long-standing identity: a blend of Americana, alt-country, and blues-rock shaped by late-night sessions, lived experience, and a strong sense of place. Led by guitarist Larry Liss and frontman Steve Simoncic, Trickshooter Social Club channel years of Chicago’s underground music culture into songs that feel both spontaneous and deliberate.
The EP thrives on contrast. Low-slung guitars meet fiddle textures, raw vocal delivery meets tight rhythmic drive, and lyrical weight sits comfortably alongside melodic accessibility. There’s a constant push and pull between chaos and control, as if the music is always on the edge of spilling over—but never quite does. the record reflects on “interesting times” with a mix of cynicism and clarity. These are songs that acknowledge struggle without turning away from it, finding meaning in imperfection rather than resolution. The storytelling feels cinematic in places, but never detached—these are grounded narratives, shaped by working-class energy and real-world tension. Porchlight Pie sits somewhere between classic American rock traditions and modern indie grit. The band’s influences can be felt without ever overwhelming the sound: echoes of Tom Petty’s heartland rock, the Black Keys’ raw blues revival, and the ragged edge of Social Distortion-style punk-infused Americana. Yet the result is unmistakably their own. What makes the EP stand out is its sense of authenticity. Nothing feels overly polished or artificially constructed. Instead, the production leans into texture—slight roughness, room ambience, and a live-band feel that captures the physicality of performance. It’s music meant to be felt as much as heard.
There’s also a strong sense of character running through the project. The band doesn’t shy away from contradiction: beauty and violence, humor and exhaustion, redemption and weariness all coexist within the same sonic space. That balance gives Porchlight Pie its emotional depth. As a continuation of their broader catalogue—including earlier releases like American Experiment—this EP reinforces Trickshooter Social Club’s reputation as a band that treats Americana not as nostalgia, but as a living, evolving idea. Their music reflects a country that is complicated, flawed, and constantly in motion. In the end, Porchlight Pie doesn’t try to solve anything. Instead, it documents the feeling of living through it all—messy, loud, and human. It’s a record that thrives in motion, best experienced at volume, preferably with the windows down.
English