Holy hell, people. Let me tell you about J Dulva. This cat from Eunice, United States, ain’t messing around. His band – that six-piece monster called Counting Coup – dropped Counting of the Coup on May 1st, 2026, and it’s a goddamn live-wire straight to the gut. Ten tracks of blues-drenched, roots-rocking, harmonica-wailing realness that sounds like it crawled out of a bayou and stole your beer.
Here’s the deal. These folks have been holding down weekly residencies for five years. Five. Years. That means they’ve played together more than most married couples talk. So when they walked into Poolside Studios in southwest Louisiana during their regular gig and hit record, they didn’t need second takes. They needed instinct. And brother, instinct is all over this thing.
Front and centre is J Dulva himself – vocals, guitar, harmonica. The man’s voice sits somewhere between a weathered porch storyteller and a guy who’s seen too much but ain’t done yet. Behind him, Missy Benoit holds down vocals and keyboards with a touch that adds soul without getting sappy. Steve Benoit on bass – he’s the anchor, keeping these tunes from floating away into chaos. Mike Picou jumps in on vocals and harmonica, doubling up on that reedy, crying sound that cuts like a knife. Peyton Soileau on guitar brings the grit, and Bernard Brown on drums has got a groove that won’t quit.
And here’s the kicker – every single song was written by Jack Miller. All original. No covers. No filler. These cats mean business.
“Rico Gillette” kicks things off. It’s about a fictional small-time criminal who thinks he’s a big shot but really he’s just another rat in the sewer. The jangling chords and rock structure hit hard, even if the mix feels a little squashed. That’s live recording for ya – no apologies, just truth.
Then “Dead Mingo” rolls in at five minutes and one second, and suddenly the groove locks in tighter. This one’s got momentum.
“Funny Looking Flowers” – now THIS is where the fidelity opens up. The instruments breathe. Pure warmth. Best sounding track on the record, hands down.
“A Good Day” slows the roll. Ballad territory. Nostalgic, sweet, but not syrupy. Then “Waiting on That Call” keeps that mid-tempo heartbeat going.
But “19th Degree Blues“? That’s jam territory, baby. Loose, wandering, the kind of track where you imagine J Dulva looking over at Mike Picou with that smirk – you know the one. The same smirk attached to their pre-song ritual question: “have we done this before?” Classic.
“The Valley Below” comes in at just over three minutes, but it packs a punch. This one digs into the myth of Joachim – a Mexican outlaw from early southwestern North America. Haunting stuff. You can almost see the dust and the shadows.
“Keep the Flame Alive” rides that late-60s rock wave – short, punchy, two minutes and thirty-eight seconds of pure fire. Then “Boudin Blues” goes full traditional blues, and it ain’t performative. These folks live it.
“This Morning” clocks in at six minutes and forty seconds – the longest cut on Counting of the Coup. And holy moly, it’s worth every second. The organ and harmonica lock together like they’re old drinking buddies, cutting through the rough production and reminding you just how damn good this band can sound when everything clicks. Perfect closer.
Look, this album ain’t polished. It ain’t supposed to be. The production shifts from track to track – some sound narrow and distant like they were recorded in a closet, others open up wide like a Louisiana sky. But that inconsistency? That’s the charm. That’s the room. That’s five years of weekly residences and a band that doesn’t give a damn about perfection.
J Dulva and his Counting Coup crew made an honest record. Raw, heartfelt, and swampy as hell. Crank it up. Let the imperfections breathe. And for God’s sake, don’t ask “have we done this before?” – just hit play and feel it.