This album, Dixie Witch’s fourth, with its gold chrome letters on crushed black leather, is the simplest, most uncomplicated, and appropriately textured statement the band could make concerning their return after a five year absence. As if anticipating the inevitable question, ‘Well, what are you going to do now?’ they’ve just gone and shrugged and said, ‘Let it roll, motherfucker!’ With all due respect to the Small Stone bands who’ve already released albums this year, and many condolences to the ones yet to come, this here is the Olympic pinnacle, and the trio of long-toothed Texan troublemakers have stormed Zeus’ Godly realm and confiscated his throne. Armed with an arsenal of lightning bolts and cloaked in the kind of invincibility you can only get from a mountain high, Trinidad Leal, Curt “CC” Christenson, and new guitarist Josh “JT” Todd Smith now seem to hold dominion over all things ROCK; their Southern stoner sound, once drenched in the earthly confines of mud and fuzz, has found a magical, heavenly edge. It’s still every bit the beast Smoke & Mirrors is, but they’ve elevated the power and melody to rocket-fueled levels (and left out the ballads), making Let It Roll as much a supreme n’ sizzling cock rock record as it is a boogie n’ blues truck stop tango drenched in AC/DC, Lynyrd Skynyrd, ZZ Top, and Alabama Thunderpussy influences. I suppose Let It Roll has the potential to piss off anyone not enamored with a polished production, but if deliciously dirty dynamics and majestic riffs are your bag, you’re in for one hell of a treat.
Fresh off their split with Danava and Earthless (review here), Oakland’s Lecherous Gaze take a less-than-fresh approach in re-releasing their 2010 four-song EP, Audio Testament, as a self-titled Tee Pee debut. A re-release usually means better production and mixing, but, much to the band’s credit, there’s not too much evidence of that found here because these songs still sound like they were recorded in a room full of tin garbage cans and shag carpeting. Lecherous Gaze contains the kind of kick-out-the-jams fuzz n’ roll that could only be made by flophouse orphans who spent their wasted youth picking scabs, bumming cigarettes, flipping through muscle car magazines and the thick-bushed pages of Playboys from the early 70s, and listening to AC/DC, The Ramones, MC5, and Thin Lizzy records. Of course, that’s probably due in large part to the fact that singer Lakis Panagiotopulos blows into the mic like Joey Ramone or Phil Lynott with dying batteries, and that the groovy punk rock riffs on “Phaze,” “Sold,” and “R’n'R Lust” are so raw, sweaty, and delicious you can practically taste ‘em (the ones on “Graveyard” are so bluesy you can practically feel ‘em), but then what good is an electric cock sandwich if it’s not smothered in classic righteous sauce, huh? The whole thing is damn downright dirty and four songs just isn’t enough. I want more and you will too.
It’s hard to imagine that the Tokyo Dragons, in their brief, two-album career, could have influenced anybody, but here come fellow UK’ers Black Spiders, swingin’ their hot nuts and givin’ me the fear like the Dragons used to do. Of course, it might make more sense to compare the Spiders’ explosive, hi-top arena rock to bands like KISS, AC/DC, and Motörhead (all of whom the band have referenced in their music by way of lyrics or cover songs), and I wouldn’t be surprised to find out there’s a Soundgarden, Circus of Power, and Four Horsemen freak in their ranks too, but you know what I’m getting at here: this is music for keg parties, biker rallies, or any event where a hot tub and cocaine are present. Sons of the North is the band’s first full-length after a steady diet of EPs for the last two plus years (The St. Peter EP, Cinco Hombres [Diez Cojones], and No Goats in the Omen) and thumps its chest so loud and proud it bruises the heart deep inside. Old fans of the band will notice some familiar bite in the previously released songs “Stay Down,” “Just Like a Woman,” and “St. Peter”, but the way the album seamlessly weaves eye-lined sleaze rock excitement (“KISS Tried to Kill Me,” “Easy Peasy,” “What Good’s a Rock Without a Roll?”) with bearded stoner rock bullying (“Blood of the Kings,” “Man’s Ruin,” “Si, El Diablo”) is a mouthful of deliciously bloody meat you’ll want to feast on for a long time to come. Pull this one out at the next hot tub biker keg party rally you attend and you’ll find yourself fighting and fucking the night away, guaranteed.
Check out the video for “Just Like a Woman” from Sons of the North (even though this video was shot when they released the song on No Goats in the Omen)!
Dixie Witch
Lecherous Gaze
Black Spiders