Dash Rip Rock

Paydirt (PC Music)
by Jamie Kiffel

Plodding drums, serious powerchords and grinning vocals merrily punkify all that would be angst in Dash Rip Rock‘s sometimes honky tonk, occasionally folksy Paydirt. There is a quality of lovable skeletons here, inflatable would-be irritations that squeak with glee when hugged. “No matter who you are, no matter what you say, yer sad ass belongs to King Death!” the band exclaims in fond major key. Tiny, plaster Dia de los Muertos effigies dance merrily. Well-understood by punk and metal girlfriends everywhere is the psychomusical dysfunction characterized in “String You Up,” wherein the listener indulges the Eros-fantastical transformation of Stratocaster to feminine form, complete with talking guitar and cracks about gendered jack hook-ups. “Best Reason” tells the tale of a woman who beds every drummer within cymbalshot, accompanied by musically punning, attention-craving drums and round, over-pronunciation, as glaringly frank as a drunk’s revelation. Bizarrely twisted lyrics like “clown down, take off your greasepaint” set to a honky-tonk rhythm of bent-up guitar strums and bullshit-busting proclamations keep the ears perked while the bass kicks up a good double-divot of dirt clods from any suburban pop-jaded brain. Get on up in the mechanical saddle that is Paydirt, because you could stand to laugh a little at your saddle-sore ass.
(711 8th Ave. San Diego, CA 92101)