there won’t be no country music. there won’t be no rock ‘n’ roll.
that this isn’t some bastard cw mccall concept record is kinda disappointing. yeah there’s some cb chatter buried on the first side, highway ghost voices chuntering beneath a juicy rhythmic stew. but there’s no goddam honkytonk twang or haggard snarl.
that it does sound like craig clouse fucked up art of noise is kinda pleasing. it’s… mmmmm… messily precise. like a knife sliding saucily between ribs. first shit and shine of 2016 and it’s one of those not totally all over the place kinda shit and shine records. taking all that energy, and the frequent relentlessnesses of the usual and focussing it on big dirty beats.
four tracks, howking analogue lumps out of wires and electricity, honed, but all loose limbed and flailing like the mostly formed melty beasts in the thing. glides, like it shouldn’t, with an ugly polish, with a lurching gait, with a bombast mashed and askew.
outlaws and lone star beer. no messin’.
