In the several months before I moved out of Santa Barbara last October, a band emerged on the scene to reignite my hope for the rebirth of the local musical landscape. Not since Matthew McAvene teased me with a few smoking sets in early 2007 had I felt the spark of any new, home-bred talent. All it took was one performance by Howlin’ Woods on a Friday night at Cold Spring Tavern to convince me that these guys had the goods. They could jam fiercely, led by the sinewy guitar voodoo of Griffin Chetakian. The rhythm section of Matthew Farrington on drums and Brian “Solar B” Chandler on bass (and keys) was rugged and raw, yet with an intuitive grace. A lot of bands can jam. These guys came across as the total package thanks to the presence of a true frontman. Jordan Chetakian – a powerhouse vocalist with some acoustic guitar chops to boot, boasted a dynamic range. He could rain down with the back-alley blues, bust out a little Sly Stone soul and woo the ladies like a tormented indie rock icon. Offstage he was just an unassuming, plaid-shirt wearing dude with glasses which made his spotlight transformation all the more profound.
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