Spare time, a spare room, and spared smokes; like a cool-handed stage direction in a Sam Shepard play; like a grit-paced mood-swing in a Larry Brown novel, these are the elements to a truly American alchemy. These are also the ingredients that gave rise to a fresh blend of alt-country, indie rock and folk blues: The Additives, a band from Bridgeport, Chicago; with an uncanny ability to create visual narratives out of the alienation and the outsider braininess that are the makeup of today�s Americana tradition.

Joe Ryan found himself in a position familiar to Big W�s America: laid-off. Instead of wallowing depressively with his spare time, Ryan picked up his guitar and re-engaged his long-standing passion for songwriting. He discovered an expanded expressiveness, matured by a lifestyle of unquenchable wanderlust. He put pen to guitar strings with a newfound fervor, and when it came time to lay down some tracks, Joe rehearsed with girlfriend Sheila Bertoletti, a classically trained pianist, and friend Joey Werner, a percussionist with a sizeable resume, from a spare room in Bridgeport apartment.

What came from those initial sessions was a unique and exhilarating alliance. The three took their show to the road, and sensed that with another addition, they could soar. After practice one afternoon, they stumbled upon Dustin Pyka, a Wisconsin transplant and guitar/bass player fresh out of music school. After listenting to The Additives recently mastered disc, Ryan invited Dustin to the band�s next practice�the Additives were now complete.

The Additives can take a Johnny Cash song and make an old-timer believe it�s an original; a great testament to how this band�s unique voice has been honed by its tireless touring and hometown gigging. Hearing The Additives for the first time, one gets the notion that the Big Song through which American music ventures has become more interesting�and a shit-load cooler.

After what he heard, Ryan promptly invited Dustin to the band's next practice. Back in the spare room the next day, it became obvious to all present that The Additives were now a quartet, and were now complete.

The Additives have been known to take a Johnny Cash song and make an old-timer believe it's an original. This is testament to how singular and inventive a voice this band has honed through its tireless touring and hometown gigging. Hearing The Additives for the first time, whether it be live or on CD, one gets the notion that the Big Song through which American music ventures has just become more interesting . . . and a shit-load cooler.