This is energetic rock’n’roll, energetic enough that it borders on frenetic at times. With rockabilly, Americana, and punk influences, this is lead-guitar-heavy garage rock. At times it gets a little swampy and there are some KINKS influences in the guitar work. I’d call it Anxiety Rock. My wife thinks it could work as a spaghetti western soundtrack.
Four tracks of bratty garage rock from Portland. Two original songs on the A-side, two covers on the B-side of good time, ’60s-inspired fun. Peppy songs with a bit of vocal whining that is emphasized by the organ sound.
Maybe it’s me. Maybe looking for something fresh in the crowded space of garage bands is a fool’s errand, and I should just get over myself and try to have fun. But we’ve been at this stuff for decades now: the Tiki kitsch, the organ without any bite, the fuzzy but compressed-to-all-hell guitar. On their ninth LP (and yes that is impressive), this band presents something squeaky clean and calls it trash. It just doesn’t sell for me. Bands were obsessed with all these same things in the ’90s, cryptids and aliens and cocktail lounge decor. I’m sure this Long Beach act has a blast doing this after all these years, but for me it’s just another band harkening back to some made up alternate history of American rock’n’roll and doing nothing novel to tweak the formula.
